Chick 269

by Cristae

269

Hello, friend.
Want to go treasure hunting with me? 🙂

Treasure?

Groo pressed the keypad, sending a reply.

A treasure hunt? Is this another mission from the Management Bureau?

A response arrived almost immediately.

It’s a secret mission just for child agents.

(attached: map image)

Go to the place marked on the map! There should be a delivery box there.

If you collect all the items inside the boxes, another secret agent will exchange them for treasure.

The indicated spot was a corner of the lobby.

‘Hoooh…!’

A secret mission given only to child agents at the Management Bureau!

Groo’s chubby cheeks flushed with excitement.

Treasure hunting was far more exhilarating than answering dull quizzes—a program positively bursting with dopamine.

‘Thump-thump! Treasure hunt!’

While Groo was getting worked up, Joorim grew suspicious seeing her absorbed in her phone.

Joorim was about to speak to the child when Groo, now wearing a detective magnifying glass, looked up at him, her eyes enormous.

…What’s that?

“A detective magnifier.”

He suddenly had a bad feeling.

So why are you suddenly… Look, what are you planning to do with that, friend?

He softened his tone out of habit, but Groo raised her eyebrow and declared,

“That is a top-secret, classified operation.”

‘Top-secret’ is a water term.

“Agent Groo, deploying!”

Regardless, Groo ignored Honghong’s words, donned her magnifier, and scampered off.

…!

Rubbing his forehead in exasperation, Honghong hurried after the running Groo with long strides.

Groo hurried down the central stairs to the lobby and made her way straight to the place marked on the map.

She checked her phone.

‘There!’

Plunk!

“Beep!”

Groo plunged her head into a trash bin; Mephisto fluttered into the air, startled, and Honghong’s mouth fell open as he hurried over.

He quickly pulled Groo out.

Disgusting!

Whether or not Honghong was scolding her, Groo triumphantly lifted a delivery box high overhead.

“Agent Groo has discovered a top-secret classified item!”

That’s trash!

“It’s treasure.”

Groo puffed out her cheeks and wriggled, demanding to be put down.

Left with no choice, Joorim set her on the ground, and Groo, sitting, swiftly tore off the tape and opened the box.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

At that moment, the sound of a ticking clock began from inside the box.

“Ooooo—!”

Groo exhaled in wonder and pulled out a square metal case.

Red LED numbers on it were counting down by the second.

“Beeeeep!”

As if it were something extraordinary, Mephisto circled above Groo’s head.

“…?”

It certainly looked impressive, like the kind of time bomb you’d see in a movie.

Joorim snatched it away and examined it with furrowed brows.

For a toy, the case seemed remarkably solid.

And the casing was even welded shut to keep anyone from looking inside.

‘Hmm…’

He wanted to take it apart and see exactly what was inside, but Groo was struggling, arms outstretched, demanding its return.

Joorim, faced with Groo clinging to her “treasure,” handed the device back and asked,

Fine. You can have it. But did they really make a program like this?

A surprise treasure hunt was plausible, but he hadn’t heard anything about it.

Besides, it seemed unlikely they’d tell a child to dig out trash, keeping it secret from the parents.

Groo, eyes narrowed at his confusion, put a finger to her lips.

“Shh! Secret!”

….

Joorim fell silent, feeling rebuffed.

Weren’t we on the same team? Why does my own daughter look at me like I’m nothing but trouble?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

[00: 59: 11]

All the while, the timer continued to count down.

Springing to her feet, Groo tucked the time-bomb toy under her arm.

Her phone rang with new instructions.

(map image attached)

The next delivery box is here!?

‘Agent Groo, gather all the boxes and exchange them for treasure!’

Snorting with excitement, Groo darted off with the time bomb in tow.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Management Bureau, first floor.

The door to the maintenance room, where cleaning supplies and tools were kept, opened.

Stepping out, Min Dongwoo adjusted his staff lanyard, ensuring his photo badge was perfectly visible.

Before closing the door, he checked the delivery box beneath the table and then glanced at his watch.

‘One hour left.’

In one hour, all the bombs he’d disguised as delivery boxes and planted as a “staff member” would explode, causing a massive distraction.

That was also when Alex Von would be transferred from the Management Bureau to the special prison.

The goal of Min Dongwoo and his crew was simple.

Break Alex Von out.

The plan: once the time bombs detonated, his associates would descend from the outer walls on ropes and escort Alex Von out of the Bureau.

He strolled naturally down the hall, greeting staff with a smile.

It was such a large institution—with over a thousand employees—that no one seemed to wonder who he was as they returned his greetings.

‘Right, as long as I avoid Jin Siwon…’

Hiding from one person in this vast building for an hour would be nothing.

As he passed through the lobby, headed for his next task—

Dudududu—

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

‘Is that… a clock?’

Looking over, he caught sight of a tiny platinum-haired child.

Balanced atop her head was a case he recognized all too well. She was running with it, heading who knows where.

“…?”

Waddling after her in a lackluster mascot suit was Honghong.

Min Dongwoo paused for a moment.

‘Couldn’t be.’

Then he broke into a laugh.

A child running around with one of his planted time bombs? That was a stretch, even for his imagination.

At that moment, his earpiece crackled as a colleague, having heard him laugh, chimed in.

—Everything going smoothly?

“Oh, yeah. Things are going so well it’s making me nervous. I just saw a little kid running through the lobby with what looked like a time bomb.”

—What kind of nonsense is that?

“Beats me. Maybe I’m just jumpy because it’s been a while since our last job.”

—Didn’t I tell you to lay off the booze?

Well, he had celebrated a hefty payday a little too hard last night.

Shaking his head, Min Dongwoo ambled over to the lobby trash bin.

For some reason, he wanted to check with his own eyes that everything was going as planned.

He glanced into the bin, then looked around and rummaged carefully with his hand.

But there was no sign of the delivery box—nothing even close.

Disbelief leaked from his lips.

“…It’s gone?”

—What?

“Oh, gone… it’s not there.”

—What are you talking about?

Damn it! Had it been found?

Without another word, Min Dongwoo pressed his lips together and hurried off to the next spot.

Someone could have accidentally discovered one of the boxes. Since they were disguised as deliveries, maybe it hadn’t been opened yet.

With that in mind, Min Dongwoo hurried behind the curtain in the second-floor seminar room.

“…Gone.”

Finding no delivery box there either, his pace quickened until he was running.

Finally, he entered the maintenance room—the last place he’d stashed a box.

He found an empty box, tossed it aside in irritation.

“Gone?!”

From his hand, the box erupted in flames and vanished, reduced to ashes.

“Dammit!”

Jin Siwon?

But if he’d been discovered, why wasn’t there an emergency broadcast?

Just then, as Min Dongwoo hurried back to the lobby, his sharpened hearing caught the sound of a child running.

And the ticking of a clock.

He looked up at once.

Dudududu—

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Looking up over the second-floor railing, he saw the child running, balancing three time bombs on her head.

“…?!”

Min Dongwoo rubbed his eyes.

“Unbelievable… the kid actually has them all.”

—What the hell are you talking about? Will you explain yourself or not?

“Shit! Some brat has all our bombs!”