Li Ming stared at the woman in front of him, then at the courtyard that shimmered like someone had tried to paint reality using wet ink. The bamboo swayed out of rhythm, the ground hummed faintly, and one pavilion had a sign that read: "Tea Room – Currently Closed Due to Yesterday's Tomorrow."
He rubbed his face. "I've been in nightmares more consistent than this."
The woman smiled politely, the kind of calm smile bureaucrats wore when they were used to existential screaming. "You'll get used to it, Agent Li. The Bureau of You operates outside linear time. Our job is to investigate the anomalies caused by—"
Li Ming raised a hand. "Don't say it."
"—you," she finished smoothly.
Bai Guo hopped onto Li Ming's shoulder, feathers puffed. "Oh, that's poetic justice."
Lei Shan stretched, tail crackling faintly. "So we're in charge of cleaning up his messes? I approve. He's messy."
