Lu Yu himself had been a victim of this very industry and had once loathed it deeply.

At least within his domain, gene-modification surgery rooms were strictly prohibited.

But in the vast universe, how many dark corners existed? Such things could never be completely eradicated, and those who had already become modified humans still had to make a living.

Most of them came from impoverished backgrounds, growing up surrounded by violence, crime, sex, and drugs.

They had little access to education, faced endless temptations, and few possessed any legitimate skills.

Lu Yu’s territory was considered relatively fair among the gray zones—protective of modified employees and offering generous salaries.

As a result, countless modified individuals flocked to work there. Indeed, as Lu Yu had claimed, there were no cases of coercion in this establishment.

Yet when Shen Ying heard this, her eyes lit up.

“Not forced? So they’re in an equal employment relationship with your business, right?”

She then turned to the modified individuals who had shrunk back in fear from the earlier tension and asked, “Interested in switching jobs?”

“One-year contract, six insurances and two pensions, weekly salary of 20,000, tips on top, meals and accommodation included. Though the activity range is limited, you’ll have access to the world’s most advanced entertainment library.”

Given Shen Ying’s current assets, offering such conditions was nothing.

She even addressed the mermaid directly: “I also have the finest nutrient pools at my place.”

Mermaids required daily immersion in nutrient solutions to maintain moisture in their lower bodies—a key reason why mermaid-modified individuals were rare, given the high upkeep costs.

Despite their high appearance fees, after deducting basic maintenance expenses, their net earnings weren’t much higher than others’.

Shen Ying added one last irresistible detail: “Free of charge.”

“And if you’d like, I can have the R&D department develop your preferred flavor.”

The mermaid was instantly electrified by this tempting offer.

She immediately tried to flip out of her tank: “I—I’ll—”

“He’s not interested.” Lu Yu cut in sharply, shooting the foolish fish a glare that sent her shrinking back.

Shen Ying frowned. “I’m recruiting temporary assistants. This isn’t your place to intervene, 3053.”

Lu Yu smiled. “I recall a clause in the Sky Prison regulations stating that personnel arrangements must be approved by headquarters.”

Otherwise, the prison would truly become the warden’s personal fiefdom.

He continued, “Though headquarters largely respects the warden’s opinion, I doubt they’d approve hiring these individuals.”

Shen Ying grew impatient. “That clause exists?”

She pulled up the prison’s management manual, searched, and—sure enough—it did.

Lu Yu’s grasp of the rules was even deeper than hers. Clearly, he’d put in considerable effort.

Still, Shen Ying refused to give up. “Headquarters approval isn’t impossible.”

Lu Yu countered, “Prison staff must hold at least a Class A academic qualification.”

In this world, that meant graduating from a top-three university on an A-class planet.

In other words, every Sky Prison employee was an elite from a prestigious institution.

Lu Yu glanced at the group and asked Shen Ying, “Do they look the part to you, Warden?”

Shen Ying scowled. “Why waste elites managing criminals? Such a waste.”

More importantly, this was blatant obstruction—deliberately raising the bar for her personal assistants.

Disappointed, Shen Ying stubbornly refused to leave.

She lingered in the bar until late at night, comforting the mermaids, angels, leopards, cats, and dogs one by one.

Only then did she finally depart under their reluctant gazes.

Their reluctance was genuine. Though Miss Shen had unconventional tastes, she wasn’t demanding and tipped generously.

Even the least-paid among them had earned enough today for a down payment, not to mention the exorbitant drinks she’d ordered.

And then there was the job offer they couldn’t take—if not for fear of Lu’s authority, several would’ve jumped ship on the spot.

Not for the 20,000 weekly salary or the lavish tips, but out of sympathy for their lonely sister drifting through the cosmos.

By the time Lu Yu left his own bar, he felt utterly drained.

Boarding the spacecraft, Shen Ying maintained her warden’s demeanor. Instead of returning to the original docking point, she changed course.

No surprise there—the Sky Prison wouldn’t warp back to the starting location and walk into a trap.

Now, however, the risk of being followed had to be considered.

Yet the warden showed no concern. Lu Yu realized why.

His subordinates were currently tied up. While he’d been present, superficial harmony could be maintained. Now that he was gone, infighting had likely begun.

This was inevitable. Though he’d claimed he wouldn’t pursue Beard, whether the latter believed it was another matter.

Unwilling to sit idle, Beard would surely act, plunging the organization into chaos.

Lu Yu looked at the warden, feeling the same helplessness as the Crown Prince.

This woman—his own plans had barely begun, yet she’d pulled the rug out from under him, thrown his organization into disarray, and extorted billions before sauntering off.

Could today’s entrapment have been solely for extorting benefits from him?

At this thought, Lu Yu turned to Shen Ying. “The warden’s calculations are impressive.”

“If all you needed was sponsorship, you could’ve said so earlier. Was this spectacle necessary?”

Shen Ying kept her eyes on the controls. “Didn’t I? I thought hiring 3069 was a clear enough hint.”

3069 was Niu Xi’s ID.

She sighed. “Who knew you’d miss it? Not just then, but even now, you can’t read the room.”

“I always took you for someone perceptive. Seems I overestimated you.”

Lu Yu knew she was referring to the ten modified individuals in the private room.

Of course he’d stopped it—his pride wouldn’t allow his subordinates to witness his humiliation.

Moreover, after leaving prison empty-handed, letting the warden recruit a batch of people would make him a laughingstock in Lien and the Crown Prince’s eyes.

How could he maintain his intellectual superiority then?

As these thoughts crossed his mind, the warden spoke again. “But it’s fine. Generally, whoever ruins my plans takes responsibility.”

“Let me tally it up: the mermaid’s tail, the angel’s wings, the leopard’s spots and barbed tongue, the cats’ and dogs’ ears and tails.”

“You owe me compensation for all of them.”

Lu Yu’s forced smile stiffened. “Even if I wanted to compensate you, Warden, I lack the capability.”

Shen Ying glanced at him, puzzled. “How so? The code you gave Lien turned him into a kitten.”

“I’m sure you have more varieties where that came from.”

Then, as if struck by a thought, she added, “Ah, right. In that case, you don’t just owe me ten—double compensation is the baseline rule.”

At this, Lu Yu’s scalp prickled. Strange memories and shame shot through his nerve endings, all the way to the tips of his antlers.

He instinctively glanced at the warden, only to find her gaze already fixed on his face.

With a smirk, she said, "Although 3077 keeps insisting it's his own code, as far as I know, the simulation pod research expert in this prison seems to be one of your people."

"I’m sure your subordinate knows your preferences well enough. If there’s anything specific you’d like, you can just tell him directly—after all, he’s the one writing the code."

Lu Yu’s face flushed with anger. Was she really going to humiliate him while forcing him to provide the very tools for his own humiliation? Tailor-made, no less.

And worse—was she expecting him to personally dictate the details?

There were limits to how far one could trample on a person’s dignity.

His expression darkened. "Warden, isn’t twenty billion enough to buy a single punishment?"

Shen Ying replied matter-of-factly, "Of course not. The twenty billion was just to cover up the incident of you losing the reflector head."

"Think about it—how serious is the crime of damaging the prison’s stealth system? Charging you twenty billion to keep it quiet was practically a friendly discount."

"As for the rest, I did offer you a tip, but you refused. That could’ve been used here."

Lu Yu felt like he was about to cough up blood. This woman truly had endless ways to make him regret his choices.

The spaceship traveled for nearly two hours before finally docking with the airborne prison, which had just jumped into position southeast of the garbage planet.

The moment Shen Ying returned to the prison, she could disregard time constraints for jumps. Without delay, she relocated the prison to a random coordinate.

Secretary Zhu and the maintenance team were already waiting there, taking the box Shen Ying handed over.

Secretary Zhu looked disappointed, but Shen Ying ignored him and instructed the maintenance team, "Go replace the parts."

Then came the parting of ways with Lu Yu. Several mechanical prison guards stepped forward to escort him back to the prisoner activity area.

Among them, Zheng Yanhui had somehow slipped in. Watching the warden walk away, she excitedly asked Lu Yu, "So the warden took you out to retrieve parts?"

"Even she had to rely on you when all the parts were scrapped."

"You must’ve arranged something while you were out, right? When will the outside world be able to locate the prison?"

Lu Yu gave the clueless woman a tired look.

Did she really not use her brain at all? The fact that both of them had returned completely unharmed, with no extra or missing personnel, was already a glaring red flag.

And here she was, loudly scheming right in front of the warden’s mechanical prison guard spies—was she not afraid of being punished?

But then again, now that he thought about it, she never really had been. No matter what she did, the warden never seemed to discipline her seriously.

The blatant favoritism between men and women was infuriating.

Still, Lu Yu had one saving grace—when a crisis was unavoidable, he chose to face it head-on rather than try to bluff his way out.

So when he returned to the activity area, despite the humiliation burning in his chest, he still approached the subordinate responsible for the simulation pod code and said, "That code you wrote for Lien—revise it."

"Change it to a water world setting, with a mermaid protagonist."

Then he quickly added, "Keep the sensory feedback at normal levels. Don’t tweak it toward x-doll mode."

The subordinate was baffled but obediently accepted his boss’s orders.

At that moment, however, Lien and the Crown Prince suddenly materialized behind Lu Yu like ghosts.

Hearing his words, Lien’s face instantly turned red as he cursed at Lu Yu, "You bastard, are you trying to sell me out again?"