Chick 220
by Cristae220
This was bad.
This wasn’t the sort of harmless prank that made a good story—it was a “major incident” that brought to mind visions of juvenile detention!
There was only one way out of this.
‘…I’ll have to make it a perfect crime.’
Sweat trickled down Groo’s face as his mind raced frantically, searching for a way to hide his wrongdoing.
Bribe everyone who knew until nothing ever happened.
Right now, the only person who knew Groo had raided the dungeon without permission was Huiyeon. They’d gone in together.
If Groo approached Huiyeon and… bribed her by giving away the prototype transformation item…
‘But it’s the only prototype I have!’
As Groo fought back tears at the thought of giving away his transformation magic wand, Sergey let out a sigh, muttering,
“How are we supposed to catch someone who didn’t leave a single trace…”
Groo looked up at Sergey in surprise.
Hold on. Wasn’t he a criminal who’d avoided juvie himself?
When Sergey first came to Orchestra, Groo had pressed his ear right up against the seminar room door to eavesdrop, learning a few things that way.
Sergey had brought in a dungeon core and negotiated a reduced sentence in exchange.
And now, helping the administration was probably part of that deal.
If that was the case—
Groo could help solve a criminal case for the administration.
=>
The administration, singing the praises of the brave and mighty Groo, would overlook the crimes Groo had committed.
Perfect…!
“This isn’t fun at aaal… Groo’s going to go read something else.”
Groo, sweating bullets, reached for a different file.
He’d secretly examine every document he could and heroically solve every case within his power.
Quivering with enthusiasm, Groo opened the file.
The document, reporting that a high-profile person had entered Korea, bore a photo: a man talking to Japan’s Prime Minister Mouse.
Groo narrowed his eyes for a closer look, then pulled away to check again.
Next to the man was a name: Reiji.
“…Potato Friend?”
Why was Potato Friend here?
Under the name Reiji was a list of crimes he’d committed in tiny print.
So many lines were blacked out that Groo couldn’t read any of them clearly.
‘Some something blacked-out incident, some something blacked-out obstruction of operation…’
He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was clear Reiji had done a lot.
Even his friends turned out to be archvillains.
How badly must the administration misunderstand Groo, thinking he was connected to such evil men?
Groo shivered, picturing the scary Director Hongsam for a moment.
Just then, his watch vibrated, and a message appeared.
[Dad: Where are you?]
[Dad: Dad’s done with work.]
[Dad: We’re going grocery shopping, right?]
“Oh, right. Time to go shopping.”
Tonight, he was making dinner with Dad!
During the TV shoot, Master had said that dexterity was as important for crafting as for cooking—it helped both one’s hand skills and the feeling for making things.
Ordinarily, he would have gone shopping and cooked dinner with Master, but, hit with a bout of jealousy toward Master, Groo had decided to go with Dad instead.
“Groo’s gotta go now… I’m going shopping with Dad.”
With his shoulders slumped, Groo shuffled off. Sergey called after him, startled.
“What’s with you all of a sudden?”
Groo half-opened the door and replied in a pitiful tone.
“Groo’s worried.”
“Worried? You?”
“Groo worries too. Because… Groo… has to sell out Potato Friend.”
Connections and age didn’t matter—when facing juvie, even the value of friendship changed a bit.
In order to survive, he’d have to sell out even Potato Friend…
Sergey fell silent for a moment, looking at the child, carrying the burdens of the world in his small expression, and let out a helpless sigh.
I shouldn’t have asked.
“Get lost.”
“Yeah…”
Worries might abound, but sometimes you just have to focus on what’s in front of you.
Groo took Joorim’s hand and went straight to the store.
After parking, Joorim spoke.
“Wait a second.”
Before getting out, Joorim fitted Groo with a bonnet-shaped character hat and tied a ribbon under his chin.
The hat had long strings on either side, and squeezing the ends made the ears twitch with a squeak.
It was meant to hide Groo’s conspicuous hair color and draw less attention—
Squeak!
Groo wiggled the ears and looked up at Joorim with wide eyes, blinking.
Joorim couldn’t help but laugh.
Now he was even more likely to stand out.
“Well, what can you do. You can’t make something cute less cute.”
Joorim pinched Groo’s soft cheek—gently, so it wouldn’t hurt.
Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak!
Groo giggled, wiggling the ears, and in the commotion, Mephisto, awakened by the noise in Groo’s bag, groggily fluttered out to perch atop the hat.
After fixing Groo’s appearance, Joorim checked his own reflection in the mirror.
With a mask and hat, he’d be hard to recognize.
Getting photographed was part of Joorim’s daily life, but father-and-child pictures with Groo sold so well that paparazzi were relentless.
He got out, took Groo’s hand, and headed toward the busy store entrance.
Groo’s eyes brightened upon spotting the plastic kiddie carts with cars attached at the front.
“Can I ride this one?”
“Sure.”
Groo hopped into the car cart and grabbed the steering wheel.
Peeking through the window, Groo grinned at Joorim, who smiled back and asked,
“What did you say you wanted to make?”
“Um… let’s see… Egg in Hell!” (eggs cooked in spicy tomato sauce)
Groo checked the name on his phone and carefully enunciated it. Joorim frowned at the unfamiliar dish.
“…Sounds complicated, just from the name.”
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t think it’ll be okay…”
Muttering uncertainly, Joorim rolled the cart along while Groo spun the steering wheel.
“Over there, eggs—”
Perhaps traumatized by eggs during the TV shoot, Groo seemed determined to eat another “hellish” egg dish, so Joorim headed for the egg section.
Groo hopped out to check the eggs.
“Thirty.”
“That’s too many.”
“But I want to eat a lot!”
“How many eggs can you actually eat?”
“Ten! Plus, Mephi gets ten.”
“Biiit!”
Groo posed confidently, hands on hips.
Mephisto mimicked him, wings on hips, staring at Joorim.
“Was I raising a bird… or a pig?”
“Bit?!”
Mephisto sensed the insult with eerie accuracy and protested with furious wings, but Joorim was now fixated on comparing the different packs—large eggs, welfare eggs, all with wildly different prices.
Ding-a-ling—
“Hm?”
A clear sound tinkled before Groo’s eyes, as if from an old bell.
A bell was floating midair before him like a drone.
“What’s that?”
As Groo reached for it, the bell chimed again.
Ding-a-ling—
A pretty sound.
Groo took it in his hands.
‘How is a bell floating like this?’
Joorim didn’t react, so it must be something only Groo could see or hear.
He turned the bell over in his hands, studying it.
On the surface were squiggly letters, looking like Japanese, and a knot in red cloth mottled with black.
It seemed more like a ritualist’s implement than a toy.
Suddenly—
“Biiiiiit!”
“Myuuuuut!”
Mephisto and Bailach began going wild.
“Huh?”
Clearly, they wanted to say something; they fluttered wings and waved their stubby limbs.
“Bit bit bit!”
“Myut myut myut!”
But Groo couldn’t understand a word.
Maybe it was the bell? That was the only difference.
Cradling both Mephisto and Bailach, Groo stomped his feet in frustration.
Whatever it was, they both seemed urgent, so he’d have to listen—but here, he couldn’t turn Bailach into human form.
People were already glancing at Groo and Dad; if a hamster turned human in the store, it would be chaos.
“Dad, Groo needs the bathroom!”
Groo called out and dashed to the restroom.
Joorim, seeing Groo make it inside safely, turned his attention back to the eggs, inspecting them closely.
Extra-large eggs, welfare-certified eggs… How could eggs come in the same count and such wildly different prices?
Joorim sighed.
Guess you needed to know a thing or two.
Maybe he should have brought the housekeeper along.
His eyes wandered to the meal-kit section nearby.
Should he secretly slip in a meal kit?
Groo would hate it, but at least there’d be no risk of failure.
Just as Joorim grabbed a kit and looked around to make sure Groo wouldn’t catch him…
[“This one here actually looks fresher.”]
A man’s voice, cheerful, spoke as he picked up a different meal kit.
Joorim’s brow creased as he recognized the man’s face.