A Gift for the Director
Cheer up, Gray Sweatshirt Uncle. ………… Can't you at least say hi to the person peeking through the camera? I wonder if he can even respond?
[―――]
But instead of a reply, the blue screen just shut off. The blue window hovering over the man's pupil shattered like breaking glass, the fragments absorbing into his iris and vanishing.
Oh, the peeping uncle from over there is gone. What incredibly fast reaction speed. The moment he realized I'd noticed him, he cut the connection.
But something felt a little off. Even as he fled, I didn't sense any emotions from him. Normally, when a human gets caught sneaking a peek, something like fear or embarrassment would spike. Is it because he was too far away for me to feel it? Or maybe he's just someone with faint emotions to begin with?
Eh, whatever. Anyway, it's clear this fainted guy here is the one who summoned Tera Chad. Plenty of evidence too.
I should grab the fainted man and the pen-shaped syringe and hand them over to Shin Chang-seok. He's the director of the Threat Management Agency, after all. He'd definitely be thrilled to receive such a gift.
I pictured a heartwarming scene in my head. Gray Sweatshirt Uncle—Shin Chang-seok—receiving my excellent present, smiling as he nods and says, "Good job." And maybe that hand of his would even reach up to pat my head. Stroke, stroke.
It's a different flavor from Yeom Hana, Han Min-seo, or Yi Gyu-rin. Hehehe.
Just imagining it put me in a great mood.
I grabbed the waist of the man sprawled out on the floor with both hands and hoisted him up effortlessly. The pen-shaped syringe was tucked neatly into his back pocket. I didn't particularly want to stuff this guy into my internal subspace, so delivering him like this should work fine.
Perfect. Let's go. Trot, trot.
……………
Hands are full. With both arms occupied carrying an adult man, I can't grab the door handle.
No helping it. I let my hair grow a bit longer, wrapped it around the handle, and twisted to push the door open.
Click.
First time opening a door with hair instead of hands, but it's surprisingly convenient. I should use this more often.
I slipped silently through the gap into the room.
The first thing that caught my eye was the nameplate on the desk. Threat Management Agency Director Shin Chang-seok. So this is Gray Sweatshirt Uncle's office.
And the owner of the nameplate hadn't noticed me at all. Why? Because he had his ear buried in the phone, his back half-turned to me.
"—No, so what's the scale of the on-site damage? Don't brush it off—give me numbers."
His back was bowed like a bowstring, and the trapezius muscle bulging above his nape was hard as rock. Tension contraction. He looked insanely busy at a glance.
I'm a considerate being, so I'll wait quietly without making a sound.
"Check the status of the agents still at the scene right now. Have they all been evacuated?"
A brief silence. Then, as he listened to the report on the other end, Shin Chang-seok's jaw twitched faintly.
Gray Sweatshirt Uncle's grinding his teeth hard.
"All confirmed alive? A miracle…… Good."
He said "good," but his voice didn't sound good at all.
"Next issue. What the hell is that gear on Yeom Hana?"
Oh, he's talking about my creation.
"How does an A-rank take down a 5 Tera? Even back in her Masked Warrior days, she never soloed a 5 Tera. It has to be that armor."
That's the suit I made for her. Pretty impressive, right?
I wanted to brag, but sadly, that was impossible. So I puffed up with pride internally instead.
"That armor was stored in the special materials vault to begin with! Why is Yeom Hana wearing it? And since when did it have a transformation function?!"
A faint mumbling excuse came through the receiver.
Hearing the response, Shin Chang-seok shot up from his chair.
"……It got stolen? Along with the other stored alien materials!? When the hell did this happen!!"
Oh my, really? The Threat Management Agency got robbed.
This building might have flimsy doors, but the security's supposed to be pretty solid. For someone to hit this place, it wasn't some part-time Lupin—it must've been the real deal.
The world these days is way too harsh. Stealing? Who the hell does that?
What if they make off with all the Three Run Balls, Magic Mountain, and Turtle Chips on display in the commissary?
At that thought, screams erupted in my mental world.
[Nooo! The Three Run Balls!]
[Magic Mountain! Turtle Chips!]
[A thief! They're gonna take everything!]
The three little imps stood there with their mouths agape, clutching their cheeks. Just like Munch's The Scream.
[We have to eat them all! Before the thief gets them!]
[Let's hide them in our bellies first!]
[Yeah! Head to the commissary and grab everything now!]
Hold on, calm down. No one's said the commissary got robbed yet.
But the anxiety was real enough.
Fine. Later, when I go to the commissary, I'll "borrow" all the snacks first—indefinite term, no collateral, no interest, no guarantee.
[Borrow?]
Borrow in advance. Otherwise, the thief'll snag them.
[I've thought this before, but…… doesn't that make you the thief?]
The bespectacled imp muttered something, but when Three Run Balls' safety was at stake, it was just a minor nitpick.
"Is there any way to handle the fallout?!"
Meanwhile, Shin Chang-seok was still on the phone.
"It's already been broadcast live nationwide! That mysterious transforming armor hit the airwaves! The internet's in an uproar!"
Once again, some backtalk from the receiver.
"For now, bring Yeom Hana in—nice and easy. At least hear her side! Leak something suitably spun to the press!"
Bang.
Shin Chang-seok slammed the receiver down roughly.
"Damn it!"
He pressed one hand to his forehead and looked up at the ceiling. From the side, the shadows under his eyes looked especially deep.
"At least stopping a 5 Tera threat is some silver lining…… Haaaaaaah."
Whoa, that sigh could cave in the ground.
Anyway, the call finally ended. Took forever. While waiting, the imps and I even did group jump rope in the mental world. Twice, even.
Enough already.
I set the fainted man I'd been holding down on the floor in front of Shin Chang-seok's desk.
Thud.
At the dull sound of his butt and back hitting the floor, Shin Chang-seok—still clutching his head—snapped his gaze up.
His wavering pupils met my sparkling eyes dead-on in midair.
Finally looking this way, huh? Gray Sweatshirt Uncle.
"………."
Our eyes definitely met. Our gazes locked.
Yet Shin Chang-seok slid his eyes down to the floor. As if he hadn't seen me from the start.
Perfect ignore.
This guy pulled the same thing last time, and now again.
Shin Chang-seok circled the desk and knelt beside the fainted man. Surprisingly gentle, not rough at all, as he placed two fingers on the man's carotid.
"……Pulse is steady."
He glanced once at the man's face, crusted with dried nosebleed, then checked his pupils.
"I know who this is…… Jang Bung-ik. B-rank mental Awakener, summoning ability. Recently halted freelance work due to ability degradation."
Wow, he even knows the name, and this guy doesn't seem particularly famous. Does he have the entire Awakener roster memorized?
While patting down the man's body, Shin Chang-seok found the pen-shaped syringe in his back pocket. His eyes narrowed at the Microgenerics logo etched on it.
"Illegal drug use…… Ability amplification type. Don't tell me this guy's the one who summoned Tera Chad?"
Nailed it exactly. And the one who caught him? That'd be me. Detective Outer God Girl. An achievement deserving praise from anyone.
I stepped forward proudly and thrust my head out.
Go on, pat me.
"………."
Shin Chang-seok didn't reply, but a moment later, I saw his hand approaching my head.
Got him. Finally, even Gray Sweatshirt Uncle has submitted to me.
Hehehe.
The instant his palm touched my crown, I closed my eyes in anticipation of the strokes.
Swoosh.
Huh? Not petting.
Shin Chang-seok's palm spread wide above my head, his five fingers gripping it like a basketball. Then, without squeezing or shoving hard, he just gently pushed my body away with that subtle pressure.
No intent to fight, so I had no choice but to let him guide me toward the door out of the office.
This is practically an escort. The minimal politeness kind.
In the end, I got chased out into the hallway outside the office.
No way. That wasn't headpats.
Never imagined he'd play it like this.
I stood alone in the corridor, staring blankly at the closed door.
Hmm, weird. When Shin Chang-seok grabbed my head—
No emotions at all. If I had to describe it, like licking a brick. Yeah, a wall.
Shin Chang-seok's emotions tasted like a wall—far thicker and harder than any multi-phase reinforced barrier.
Tasteless, obviously, since it's a wall.
But not all tastelessness is the same. Shin Chang-seok's blankness is purely his own will. He's viciously suppressing his emotions, sealing them so nothing leaks out.
It's different from the artificial emotionlessness induced by Microgenerics drugs.
A uncle putting up an iron wall against a good Outer God girl? Pretty rare.
But no wall is perfect, no matter how thick. Inside Shin Chang-seok's mental fortress, the tiniest trickle of emotion seeps out.
The sour bitterness of acid reflux, the bitter tang of endless overtime and caffeine, the prickling numbness called massive stress.
Lately, especially, some tremendous stress-inducer has appeared, pounding his head with throbbing pain.
No idea who's causing it, but it's kinda pitiful. If I find out who, I'll give 'em a scolding.
Might even be the same creep who robbed the agency.
Cheer up, Gray Sweatshirt Uncle.
I quietly waved at the closed door.
Time to head home for now. Don't forget to swing by the commissary on the way and borrow all the snacks.
Trot, trot.