Donning Glasses. Picking Up an Alien.

I adjusted my glasses. Picked up an alien. ……………

I closely examined the blonde twintail alien girl. This one's all stiff. She's standing stock-still on the walkway, not twitching a muscle. Her limbs are rigidly tensed, and her golden eyes are fixed on me without a blink. She's breathing, but it's shallow and quick. Hmm, what's her deal? I could taste her emotions to know right away, but I'm not in the mood today. Because I've got the itch to deduce it.

The manga Yi Gyu-rin brought yesterday was called One Kill a Day: Boy Detective. It's about this boy detective who goes around with at least one person around him dropping dead everywhere he shows up—and this kid's scary as hell despite his age. He shoots full-body anesthetic guns at craftsmen daily, and when an incident finally happens, he's grinning ear to ear. More threat entity than human, really. But the deduction parts were pretty fun. Anyway, now I wanna try it. The perfect chance for Great Detective Outer God to shine. Whee hee hee.

The glasses mishap raised his hand to butt in. Whoa there. Quiet. It's Great Detective Outer God's deduction time. I sealed the glasses mishap's mouth shut in the mental world. He's mumbling something, but it's my turn now. The cause is right here! Behold my razor-sharp deduction.

First, the clues. One: She's no Earthling. She's an alien who flew here solo from Kepler-442b. Two: She's a total ragamuffin. Clothes torn, covered in dirt. Three: Her stomach's been growling since earlier. Putting it together, the cause boils down to one thing. I slipped into a detective outfit—but only in the mental world—and pointed my finger to the sky.

The truth is always one! That alien girl—she's too hungry to even move!

The growling stomach is ironclad proof. Starved so bad her muscles locked up, can't take a single step.

The little mishaps zipped around me, bouncing excitedly. Shrug shrug. Guess I've got a knack ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for deduction too.

The glasses mishap stared off into the distance, lips pursed tight. Looks like even he's speechless at my brilliant deduction. Should I check her nutritional status myself? I approached the alien girl on the walkway. Totter totter. Up close, the trembling's even clearer. Lips quivering, eyes misty. Oh dear, oh dear. Worn out from hunger, tears and all.

I reached out and grabbed the blonde twintail alien girl's thigh.

"H-Hiiih…."

A deflating squeak leaked from her lips. Squishy soft. Compared to Yeom Hana's thighs, it's like a stick. Gotta eat well and squat hard. I pressed around her waist, and I could feel the outline of her ribs. And… she's twitching faintly. Textbook malnutrition. How many days of starvation does it take to waste away and shiver like this?

(That's straight-up a fear response…)

(Classic biological freeze against a superior predator…)

The glasses mishap and the doctor-robed mishap were whispering in the corner. Hmph. Sour grapes from those outdone by Great Detective Outer God. Classic loser's lament. I'll ignore 'em with winner's grace. Whee hee hee.

That said, this blonde twintail alien girl looks super weak. Not even threatening by baseline Homo sapiens standards. Wonder if she's worth watching out for. Anyone know her? Spill.

The doctor-robed mishap hustled over with a chalkboard.

Elf. Yeah, fits her look perfect. Threat grade?

Worse than an average adult woman, let alone man?

Not that strong even geared up, huh. Threat Management folks handle Giga without Awakeners.

Oh yeah, that. Saw it on a TV doc. S. Hawking dude powered his infinite variable wheelchair with one. Anyway. I looked back at the alien girl. Even after I let go, she's frozen in place. Golden eyes brimming with tears. Ragamuffin look, shivering blonde twintails. Doesn't look old. Starving bad, and for some reason ditched her planet to live solo on Earth.

Looking at her stirs up old memories. Observed the massive mothership devouring everything from outside the universe—got sucked in, absorbed, then spat out. The first time I regained a sense of "me." Standing alone in a crater smack in Seoul's center, clueless about what I was, looking around. No home, no money, no ID, and speaking made humans collapse. Abandoned by Mom, rejected by humans, nowhere in the world to belong.

Maybe she's the same. Drifted here after Mom ditched her, lost and starving on this walkway. A pang of kinship welled up in my chest. Alright. Decision made. My purple hair strands shot up into the air. They lashed out, wrapping around the alien girl's waist, shoulders, arms, and legs.

"Hiiik! Help—"

The alien girl thrashed, tears streaming. Intense struggling. Feels just like adopting a pup from the shelter and taking it home. Shelter, huh. Saw a few vids on Han Min-seo's phone. The strays there got all teary-eyed and wagged their tails at their new family. Even near-sapient dogs do that—imagine a full sapient like this girl. She's gotta be overwhelmed with emotion. Plus, the new home I'm taking her to is top-tier. Threat Management Agency, they call it—vending machine's packed with snacks, and the gray sweatsuit guy's hooking up free room and board.

With the flailing alien girl all wrapped up in my hair, I started walking. So quit freaking out and come home with me. Threat Management Agency HQ, B41, Threat Isolation Facility. Whee hee hee.

……………

I set up a room for the alien girl. Easy method: handed over Tax Thief Um Jag-gwi's old room, same as last time. Brand-new room's got the same luxury specs as mine. 85-inch OLED TV, high-end PC, Playbox Pro One, massage chair, king-size bed. Perfect setup for a stray—er, stray alien girl starting fresh on Earth.

I went to set her on the bed but froze mid-motion. Hold up—huge problem. She's way too filthy for these comfy, fluffy sheets. Covered head to toe in grime, and she reeks like she hasn't bathed in ages. Shower first.

I scooped up the alien girl by the waist again.

"W-Wait! Put me down, please! I'm begging you!"

Nope. You'd dirty up the bed otherwise. There's a shower room for on-duty agents nearby. Seen Han Min-seo and Yi Gyu-rin use it a few times. Totter totter. I shoved open the shower room door and pushed the alien girl inside. Go on, wash up. I pointed at the showerhead, and she got the hint, cautiously turning on the water.

Whoosh. Steam billowed up with the pouring water. As the warm water hit her skin, her shoulders—shaking like she might faint—visibly relaxed. Tension easing off.

The doctor-robed mishap chimed in. Yup yup. Hungry makes you cold. While the alien girl showered, I picked up her shed dirty clothes from the floor. Ripped in spots, caked in grime beyond recognizing the original color. Weird weave pattern—not like anything on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Earth. Laundry time. Washing machine for on-duty agents is next door. Popped the lid and stuffed 'em in. Detergent next. Shelf's got liquid and powder. Super dirty, so load it up—overflowing almost.

Beep beep click. Fired up the washer. Whirrr. Drum starts spinning.

Whiiiir. Bubbling started inside the washer. Not your usual spin cycle. Lid rattling. Flashing lights inside, then blue foam backing up the drain. Glug glug glug—BOOM. Lid blew off. Foam and clothing remnants shot to the ceiling before splatting down.

Huh, washer's busted. Guess it's time for a new one. No biggie. Shin Chang-seok'll get a replacement. Problem's her clothes now. Prodded the mess on the floor with my toe. Fibers turned to jelly glop. No spare outfit. Oh well. Opened the backup wardrobe. Got spare gear for agents stuck overtime—no suits. Gray tracksuits with the Threat Management logo. Shin Chang-seok wears 'em tons. Grabbed a neatly folded set and set it daintily by the shower door. Perfect. Room sorted, shower started, clothes ready. All that's left is food. Off to see Oh Deok-hwan.