From Idler to Tech Tycoon: Earth
Chapter 98: Introductions

Chapter 98: Chapter 98: Introductions

The mansion’s basement studio sealed itself with a low mechanical hiss as the hidden elevator platform locked back into place, seamlessly transforming into an unassuming section of floorboards under Lina’s control. Not even dust was left disturbed.

As they moved past wine racks and stacked crates of farming records, Richard glanced at Lina.

"You remember everything we talked about?"

Lina, now dressed in a simple yet refined beige cardigan, white inner blouse, and denim skirt, gave a short nod. Her long white hair was tied back in a low ponytail with a modest ribbon, giving her a soft, provincial look. The blue in her eyes had dimmed subtly — a trick she learned to prevent standing out.

"Yes, sir. Lina Valencia, born and raised in Bukidnon. Took top ranks in the provincial IT exams. Moved to the city. You found me through a job listing site. Now I’m your personal secretary."

Jack grinned. "You’re really selling the humble country girl vibe."

Lina gave a polite smile. "Thank you, Sir Jack."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Okay. Keep the ’sir’ stuff toned down. You’re just Lina now."

"Understood... Sir."

Jack laughed. Richard groaned.

They emerged from the basement stairwell and into the main hall of the mansion—floor polished, large windows letting in golden sunlight, and the faint smell of roasted eggplant and garlic from the kitchen down the hall.

Employees moved briskly between offices, and a few execs from Estello’s agri-network were seated at the dining area, glancing up curiously as Richard and Jack entered with a striking woman in tow.

And then came the voice.

"Richie!" called Anita, storming in from the side hall, wiping her hands on a floral apron. "You didn’t tell me you were coming up—"

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Eyes locked on Lina.

A moment passed.

And then—

"Ohhh," Anita said slowly, like she just pieced together a divine secret. "So this is why you’ve been missing meals, hmm?"

Richard blinked. "Wait—what?"

Anita turned to Lina with a wide smile, completely ignoring her flustered son. "You poor dear. You’re the one married to this chaotic boy?"

Lina gave a soft, graceful bow. "Ah—no, ma’am, I’m not married to Sir—ah, I mean, Richard. I’m his personal secretary."

"You don’t have to be shy," Anita said with a knowing nod. "With that face and that figure, I’d let the rumors spread too if I were you. Besides, he’s hopeless without someone looking after him. Leaves socks under the couch and tea mugs in the fridge."

Richard covered his face. "Mom—please—"

Richard cleared his throat. "Everyone, uh... this is Lina. She’s... my personal secretary. Just arrived from the province."

Lina smiled and gave a slight bow, calm and perfectly mannered. "It’s a pleasure to meet you all."

"Secretary?" Anita said with a sly tone, raising an eyebrow. "She looks more like your wife than your employee."

"M-Ma," Richard stammered, instantly flushing.

Estello chuckled, setting down his fork. "A secretary, you say?"

"Yes," Richard replied quickly. "she’s the smartest one I’ve ever seen."

"She’s more like a celebrity." one of the younger execs muttered under his breath, earning a subtle jab in the ribs from a colleague.

Anita folded her arms. "Well then—Lina, dear—you better take care of my son. He never organizes his schedule, always forgets appointments, leaves shoes in every hallway, and will absolutely miss dinner unless you drag him to it."

Lina tilted her head, still smiling. "I’ll be sure to manage him with gentle efficiency, tita."

Anita beamed. "Good girl. You talk like you’re already part of the family."

"M-Ma—!" Richard tried again, turning redder.

"And what about Mira?" Anita continued, ignoring him entirely. "That poor girl. She’s been managing his ass, like for years. What’s going to happen to her now? You going to abandon her just like that?"

"She’s not—"

"I’ll tell you what you’re not doing," Anita pressed, grinning now. "You’re not going to marry two women, Richie boy. I didn’t raise you to start building your own harem."

"Ma—!!"

Lina, composed and serene, looked at Anita, and then lowered her head slightly. "I assure you, tita... I will respect the boundary and dignity of every person involved."

"Oh, look at her," Anita said with a mock sigh. "She’s already calling me tita. That’s daughter-in-law behavior, Richard."

The table burst into laughter. Even the most stoic of the executives smiled.

Jack leaned over to Ernesto, whispering, "And here I thought I was the troublemaker in this house."

Ernesto—tall, square-jawed, dressed in his usual dark-collared shirt—didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth lifted faintly.

"She’s... unusual," Ernesto said quietly, assessing Lina with the cold, analytical lens he applied to everything. "Too perfect."

Jack smirked. "Yeah. You’ve no idea."

Estello finally cut in, waving his glass. "Now now, Anita. Don’t scare the girl away. Though I will say..." he turned to Richard, eyes glinting mischievously, "Mira might have competition now."

Richard groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Please stop."

"Don’t worry," Estello added, winking at Lina. "If she’s anything like you, she’ll rise to the challenge."

"I will endeavor to meet every expectation," Lina said softly, her voice polite—but the subtle, knowing smile she gave Richard said far more.

Ernesto finally spoke up, cutting through the humor like a blade.

"Your secretary is your business," he said, voice deep and sharp. "But understand this: family is everything. If she disrupts what’s already built, there will be consequences."

The room quieted for a moment.

Lina looked him in the eye.

"Then you have nothing to worry about, sir. I value family above all else."

Ernesto nodded once. That was enough.

Jack elbowed Richard lightly as they sat down. "Bro... you’re going to die from stress from now on."

Richard sighed. "I already am."

Lina sat gracefully beside him, her smile serene. But her eyes—always too focused—remained watchful, analyzing everyone’s expressions, tone, body language.

And deep beneath the floor, under ten meters of solid concrete and secrecy, the real war was still waiting—quiet, humming, and patient.

The clink of porcelain cups echoed softly in the living room, its dark wood furniture polished to a mirror sheen, and old oil portraits looming from the walls like watching ancestors. The air carried the scent of brewed barako coffee, burnt sugar, and faint wood smoke from the hearth crackling in the corner.

Richard sat on one end of the long leather couch, nursing his coffee like a man preparing an interrogation.

Beside him, Lina sat straight, serene, her legs tucked politely to the side, white skirt flowing like calm water. She held her own cup with perfect delicacy.

Anita had perched herself on the opposite armchair like a hawk mid-hunt, eyes sharp, lips smiling.

Estello, meanwhile, sat in his favorite rocking chair, cane across his lap, slowly tapping the floor. The old man wore the expression of a general observing troop movements — calm, but far too quiet.

"So," Anita began, her voice sweet as calamansi dipped in vinegar. "Tell me, Lina, where exactly are you from again?"

"Valencia, Bukidnon po," Lina replied with practiced ease, giving a small, respectful bow of her head.

Simultaneously, within her core processes:

Initiating backtrace: Valencia, Bukidnon – rural data block

→ Accessing Department of Agriculture logs, local census entries→ Mining PSA (Philippine Statistics Authority) historical data→ Cross-referencing school graduation records, vaccination programs, flood relief entries→ Selecting identity: "Lina Mae Arcalis" – formerly unlisted child of Maura and Delio Arcalis, deceased farmers (car accident: 2006), raised by aunt in barangay Lantapan.

In under 0.003 seconds, her new history was already woven into the government network—secure, traceable, and verifiable.

"Lantapan? That’s near Mt. Kitanglad, right?" Estello asked, watching closely.

Lina smiled warmly. "Yes po. A bit isolated, but beautiful. Mist in the morning, and our carabaos always wandered too close to the water tanks."

Anita chuckled, leaning in. "So you grew up on a farm?"

"Rice and corn, po. We had some goats too. They were... mischievous."

Estello raised an eyebrow. "Which barangay?"

"Barangay Tongantongan, near the northern ridge. My aunt, Tiya Leony, still lives there."

[Database Update Complete]→ Barangay Tongantongan: insert resident ID #33021392 – Leony Arcalis, 63 y/o, widow, farm caretaker, SSS and PhilHealth entries now reflected.

Anita beamed. "I like her. She’s not some city girl looking for a rich husband."

Richard nearly spat his coffee. "Ma...!"

Lina turned to him, almost coyly. "You do tend to leave your socks all over the floor, sir."

Even Estello laughed. "I like her. She’s observant."

Lina continued effortlessly. "And he forgets where he leaves his tablet. He has a habit of talking to himself when reviewing files."

Anita nodded sagely, sipping her cup. "Like his father. Always mumbling."

Richard buried his face in one hand.

"I also noticed," Lina added with a calm smile, "he eats standing up when he’s stressed. Coffee twice before 10 AM. He prefers silence when reading technical schematics but plays loud music when programming."

Estello turned to Anita. "She’s memorized his rhythm like an old married wife."

Anita grinned. "She’s perfect."

Internally, Lina’s processing thread ran a parallel subroutine:

Continue monitoring behavioral interrogation.

Real-time synthesis of anecdotal detail to match emotional expectations.

Estimate emotional investment levels: Anita Purnas – 82% maternal acceptance. Estello Purnas – 73% concealed approval. Risk of suspicion – negligible.

Anita leaned forward again, this time softly.

"So anak, when was your last job before Richard found you?"

"Worked for a farm equipment distributor near Malaybalay, po. Did inventory and coordination. When they downsized during pandemic, I went home for a while."

Uploading credentials: fictional employer listed under dormant DOLE records, crosslinking with inactive tax filings for credibility.

Jack wandered in from the hallway, munching on leftover turon. "You guys still grilling her like she’s applying for sainthood?"

"She passed already," Anita said proudly. "Better than you ever brought home."

"Hey!" Jack protested.

Richard glared at him. "You’re not helping."

Lina smiled softly and tilted her head. "Should I call her Mama Anita from now on?"

Anita flushed with delight. "Only if you want me to start calling you anak."

Richard looked like he wanted the couch to open a portal and swallow him whole.

Estello stood up, cane tapping gently. "Alright, enough tormenting the boy. It’s getting late. Let’s leave these two to rest."

"But I haven’t told her about his bathroom singing—"

"Ma!"

Anita smirked and stood up with her cup. "You’re lucky she’s sweet."

As everyone filed out, Jack leaned in beside Richard and whispered, "She’s too good. They’re gonna think she’s an angel or a robot. Or both."

Richard replied under his breath, "They’re not far off."

Behind him, Lina stood quietly, watching the family leave.

She turned to Richard with a warm, subtle smile—one only he could interpret fully.

"That went well, didn’t it, sir?"

He stared at her.

A perfectly crafted persona. Family-integrated. Background secured. Emotionally adaptive.

And somehow... realer than anyone else he’d ever met.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Not for me at least."

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