It’s been a week since Number 6 showed up in my arsenal. Curiosity has gone and forced me to do things I never thought I would. I’ve come to enjoy routine checkups… No, that can’t be right. I don’t enjoy them; I still desperately attempt to finish them as quickly as possible, perhaps even moreso now. After that, I just go over to the walkway and stare at her— it. … I do so from way above; the whole section believes I’m staring at all of them, the higher ups think it’s a pretty good technique and have praised me for it, but truth be told, it’s just an excuse to see that mysterious creature. That’s all there is to it, mere curiosity.
By accident, however. I’d granted her human status. I’d appointed her with tastes, knowledge, personality traits. Her behavior, upon analysis, verifies her sentience. Her motions are swift and precise, she doesn’t do it following the training posters, she does so through muscle memory and sheer intellect, each firearm she assembles is done so knowingly and with intent. Her posture changes ever-so slightly when she works, compared to when she leaves. And— I haven’t been following her! I just spectate from up here. I don’t like eating at the cafeteria. 

          

Of course, spectating or not, I don’t ignore my job, that would be downright deplorable of me! So I do keep my documents next to me and sift through them while passing time. 
I see problems, I try to fix them. I see orders, I try to fulfill them. I try to keep things orderly and conform to deadlines. 
My father, however… seems to have forgotten this duty.
I have no choice but to return to the office, back to my most prized headache: The mountains of documents and unfinished business he left behind. Weaponry upon weaponry in request for fixing, just left there, incomplete, for multiple years. There’s little I can do about it, it’d ironically be easier to just produce another identical weapon than repair it, I have no way of dealing with all of this in a timely manner… Deal with it at all, honestly.
I said mountains, and I really did mean it. These boxes and file cabinets tower over me like Goliath over David. All I’m missing is the slingshot— This proverbial slingshot, is the key to actually going through with all this work. It’s downright impossible for me to even attempt to carry these boxes without ending up like the previous Liùhào. Cybernetics are a no-go either, considering my civilian status… I could get some more low-power cybs but it just won’t be enough, not with my height, not with my weight. There’s only so much I could do.
… God, damn it! How am I meant to do any of this? If I try that brute-force strategy, it’s just going to be the same problem not just for me but for whoever replaces me! I’m pissed off! I want to throw something or knock something down but everything here is really expensive so I’d rather not.  … All I need is just someone to get the boxes for—

             

Few times does this happen. A sharp idea, violently piercing through my brain without a moment’s notice; as if divine grace, a little help from the outside. I just can’t help but laugh loudly whenever it happens.
It creeps people out, but I don’t have much issue admiring my own genius when I work alone in this office.