High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 868 - 216: The Professional Ethics of Mice

Chapter 868: Chapter 216: The Professional Ethics of Mice

As an uncelebrated recipient of the Merlin Medal and the second-ranked cost student in his first year at Jiuyou Academy, Zheng Qing received quite a few gifts on Christmas Day.

Of course, most of these gifts were just greeting cards with well-wishes—after all, everyone was a poor student, and a particular cost student wasn’t following the idol path, so naturally, there were no die-hard fans sacrificing organs to buy him gifts.

But because it was Christmas Day, even a greeting card had to be delivered via the "Christmas Mice" pumpkin carriage delivery route. This was a mandatory rule jointly issued by the School Works Committee and the Student Council.

Consequently, starting from his morning exercise, Zheng Qing began to encounter a continuous series of pumpkin carriage attacks.

At first, it was alright; perhaps because the Christmas Mice had just started their shifts, full of vigor. Whether it was calling names or driving the carriage, they were meticulous and strictly followed the SOP manual issued by the Student Council.

But as the pile of gift packages grew and the pumpkin carriages became heavier, and once the novelty wore off, the Christmas Mice quickly became lax—the wizards might consider a day to be just twenty-four hours, not that long; but for the mice, a wizard’s day was like over a month to them.

It was indeed quite a long time.

From Zheng Qing’s perspective, it was easy to notice that the pumpkin carriages that delivered his gifts flew faster and faster, the voices of the Christmas Mice grew shriller, and the integrity of the packages that reached his hands also diminished.

Moreover, he had encountered pumpkin carriage accidents more than once.

Diving headfirst into a snowdrift was somewhat better; at least the fluffy snow greatly reduced the impact of the pumpkin carriage’s crash. Compared to this, crashing head-on into a tree trunk was particularly brutal.

The disassembled carriage shaft, the pumpkin shattered into pieces, and the gift packages falling from midair like hailstones provided a unique visual impact to the bystanders.

Fortunately, the Christmas Mice had some magic power, and so far, Zheng Qing hadn’t encountered any seriously injured mice.

"Can’t you slow down a bit? No one’s competing with you for business," Zheng Qing muttered as he dug through the snow, "Has the school insured you? If you end up breaking your neck in an accident and aren’t insured, won’t you have to pay for your own treatment at the school hospital? Reattaching a head is a major operation; that’s a significant expense. Are you sure you can afford it on your own?"

"The student council bought us accident insurance and safety insurance, covered by Sam’s Pass," the Christmas Mouse lazily sat in front of the bushes, letting its red robe sprawl messily on the ground, not even bothering to clean off the mud and snowflakes on it.

Hearing the cost student’s complaints, it tilted its head, using a thin branch as a pillow, and lazily, but seriously retorted, "Also, time is life, efficiency is money...this is what you wizards always say."

"From this early morning till midnight today, it is the golden twenty-four hours for delivering gifts. After today, would the gifts still count as Christmas gifts? Our customers will probably chase us with slippers to beat us."

"You do have a point there," Xin Fat Man chimed in, chuckling from the back. He was inexplicably holding a bucket of fried chicken, grabbing meat with one hand and clutching the bucket with the other, munching merrily. Elder Zhang Da stood faithfully next to him, nodding along to play off his words, hoping to sneak a few pieces of chicken from the bucket from time to time.

The Christmas Mouse’s nose twitched as it sniffed around, spotting the bucket of fried chicken in the chubby man’s arms.

"Smells so good," its nose twitched as it took in a deep breath.

"Want a piece?" Fat Man generously pulled out a small piece of chicken breast and handed it over.

Gazing longingly at the fried chicken, the Christmas Mouse hesitated for a while, but ultimately, in frustration, grabbed the thin branch behind it, snapping it off, and while brushing off the snowflakes and mud from its body, it cursed fiercely, "Damned SOP manual... Who knows which shameless jerk wrote it, actually forbidding us from accepting food offered by guests!"

"May he stumble and fall with every step he takes!"

While speaking, Zheng Qing had already dug out the round, yellow pumpkin carriage from the snowdrift.

"Calm down, calm down, that’s not the right way to curse someone. It won’t be effective," the young cost student kindly advised.

The Christmas Mouse instantly became dispirited.

"Student card? Bring it out and let’s verify your identity," it drawled, weakly lifting a tiny paw towards Zheng Qing.

Zheng Qing reached into the grey cloth bag, fumbled around, and pulled out his student card, then handed it to the Christmas Mouse.

Compared to the mouse’s size, the student card from First University seemed a tad too large, requiring it to stretch its arms to hold it up.

"Missing a feather pen..." muttered the Christmas Mouse, it turned around, spun, and with a forceful throw, flung the student card toward the pumpkin carriage.

Meanwhile, it ducked its head, flicked its tail, and with just a few agile movements, it had swiftly leaped onto the young scholarship student’s robe.

Before Zheng Qing could react, the Christmas Mouse had already leapt over his shoulder, stepping onto the still-twirling student card mid-air as if riding a flying carpet, wobbling a bit before finally landing in front of the pumpkin carriage.

"Damn, that move was totally against the rules!" Xin Fat Man, looking utterly bewildered, chewed subconsciously, completely unaware that the piece of fried chicken he held had already dropped to the ground.

Zheng Qing nodded repeatedly, just about to praise, when he suddenly focused and noticed the feather pen in the mouse’s hand looked familiar.

He instinctively reached for his chest.

Sure enough, the feather pen that had been tucked into his collar had vanished without a trace.

"Hey, hey, hey, that’s against the rules... What about professional ethics? That can’t be compliant with the sop manual!" Zheng Qing clamored, clutching his collar.

"Efficiency! Efficiency!" the Christmas Mouse waved its paw, scratching a few lines on its notepad with the feather pen, then lifted Zheng Qing’s student card, moved it close to the side door of the pumpkin carriage, and shook it.

Accompanied by several beeping sounds, the side door of the pumpkin carriage burst open and then a thin greeting card shot out like a bullet, darting into Zheng Qing’s arms.

"Delivery complete!" the Christmas Mouse clapped its paws with satisfaction, flicked its tail, and with a whoosh, jumped back onto its pumpkin carriage, then very politely tugged at the red pointy hat on its head towards the few young warlocks, adding, "Remember to give a five-star review~~"

With that, it grabbed the tail of the mouse pulling the carriage, gave it a hard shake, and called out, "Let’s go!"

The black-haired Big Mouse pawed at the snowy ground like a windmill, and in an instant, it pulled the pumpkin carriage and darted away. By the time the warlocks regained their senses, the pumpkin carriage had already flown far away.

"Does anyone know how to rate him?" Zheng Qing, after one last gaze at the awkwardly flying, departing pumpkin carriage, finally turned back and consulted his companions.

"If even you, who receives the most gifts, don’t know, how would we know!" Xin Fat Man glared at him irritably before reaching back into the bucket to grab a new piece of fried chicken.

"Wrong focus," Xiaoyan tersely commented.

"Huh?" Zheng Qing looked bewildered.

"Where’s your feather pen?" Doctor Xiao lifted his chin, pointing at his collar.

Zheng Qing immediately realized, after using his feather pen, the Christmas Mouse had casually tossed it into the pumpkin carriage.

"Indeed, just a mouse’s nature," the young scholarship student remarked, more intrigued than annoyed.

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