Chapter 5 …
“A bomb? What bomb?”
The moment Byeon Gudo spoke, Lee Yoo-ji turned and struck the deliveryman who was just about to slip out of Team 5’s office—without a millisecond of hesitation.
Struck.
Yes, that was exactly the word.
With legs so long you’d never believe they extended from someone only around 160cm tall, she landed a kick that instantly made the deliveryman’s knees buckle.
Then she—
‘Eat this…!’
—shoved a mushroom straight into his open mouth through the hole in his helmet.
“You brought a bomb, didn’t you?”
The deliveryman choked, wheezing for a moment with Yoo-ji gripping his collar, then lifted his head and let out a low, shaky laugh.
“Ke… keu-keu-keu…”
“…”
“How’d you know?”
What she fed him had been a mushroom grown from Funny Powder spores.
Bomb found.
Culprit caught.
All that was left was removing the bomb, right?
That’s what she thought—right before her body lurched.
The deliveryman yanked her in with overwhelming force.
C-can’t resist…!
The moment she felt the strength pulling her, Yoo-ji knew.
He was an Awakened.
She had been an athlete up through high school, but the difference in rank wasn’t something a bit of fitness could overcome.
In the blink of an eye, cold metal pressed to her temple.
Click.
“Move and I shoot. Nobody moves.”
‘What kind of cheap crime-novel cliché is thissss?!’
“Whoa-whoa, calm down, calm down…!”
What kind of idiot tells a criminal to calm down?!
And Ma Deok-ho—clamping his headset over his ears like that’s going to save him?!
That was when it happened.
Click.
Another gun was cocked behind them.
Held tight in the deliveryman’s arms, Yoo-ji could only roll her eyes frantically. She saw Byeon Gudo and Ma Deok-ho staring in shock.
Byeon Gudo gasped.
“L-leader…!”
Leader?
Did he mean Kwon Ikseong? Or—
The bomber turned slightly at the sound behind him and shouted:
“You—you! You wanna watch this girl’s head pop?!”
Only then did Yoo-ji fully understand.
Team 5’s leader was aiming at the man holding her hostage.
“…Doesn’t matter.”
A lazy, low voice.
‘…A woman?’
No—more importantly, what did she mean it didn’t matter?!
‘I am NOT dying a second pathetic death!’
The deliveryman screamed, pressing the gun harder into her temple.
“Don’t lie to me! Of course it matters!”
“Well… writing up the incident paperwork would be a little annoying, I guess.”
Yet there was still nothing in the leader’s voice besides boredom.
No urgency. No worry. No fear.
“But if we drag this out, we all get blown up anyway. In that case…”
Yoo-ji got the feeling the leader was smiling. Her breathing sounded like it.
“…isn’t it more ‘efficient’ to reduce the casualty count?”
‘NOW I understand why rookies quit before surviving a week! Understood PERFECTLY!’
Whether or not she heard Yoo-ji’s internal screaming, the leader continued, as if remembering something.
“Oh, but—you know something?”
“W-what…?”
“When people talk with a gun to someone’s head, their hands always tremble a little. Their breathing changes. But you…”
“Cut the crap and put the gun down! This helmet is bulletproof!”
His excited voice rang painfully in her ears.
His hands trembled harder.
What if he fired by accident?!
Yoo-ji’s head buzzed.
‘Am I dying again? Next time, please let me possess the main character.’
“…You talk too much.”
BANG!
The gunshot roared right next to her ear.
The pressure on her temple and across her whole body vanished instantly.
A shrill ringing filled her ears.
Beeeee—
…Did I get shot?
She lifted a free hand and touched her temple cautiously.
Something warm and wet.
Blood.
But—
“…Hey, rookie.”
Her hearing slowly returned, and a woman appeared in her field of vision.
A woman with hair between a bob and a short cut, dark shadows under dead-looking eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’re lying there waiting for help getting up.”
Yoo-ji pushed herself up. The back of her neck ached from tensing, but she felt no real pain.
The one who was screaming in pain—
She stared at the terrorist clutching his right hand, blood pouring from it.
The blood on her temple wasn’t hers.
The leader hadn’t shot his head.
She had shot his hand—the one holding the gun to Yoo-ji’s temple.
Right next to my head! She knew and still fired!
A confirmed psychopath!!
And hands are one of the hardest targets to hit—tiny, fast, easy to miss.
If the leader’s breathing had wavered even a little, Yoo-ji’s skull would’ve exploded.
Yet the woman didn’t miss by even a millimeter.
A gun-sniping psychopath!
Realizing this, Yoo-ji instantly understood what she needed to do next.
She jumped up and bowed a perfect 90 degrees.
“Hello! I am new Investigator Lee Yoo-ji!”
…Secure positive impression with superior.
Because this terrifying psychopath was her boss.
‘I MUST get on her good side!’
The woman stared at her like Yoo-ji had grown an extra head.
After eyeing her up and down, she muttered:
“What a lunatic this time.”
But Yoo-ji wasn’t looking at her.
Her eyes were locked on the bomb timer—still with over ten minutes left.
A translucent window popped up.
Status Condition ‘Nameless Extra in a Crime Novel Must Die’ Cleared!
Quest ‘Find the Bomb Installed in the Hunter Investigation Unit Building! (A)’ Complete!
Reward: 5,000 Gold has been deposited!
Right—completion condition was finding the bomb.
…Mom. Dad.
I made 500 million won.
Our apartment belongs to me, not the bank anymore!
And then—
Congratulations! Your possession has been successfully completed. Special Skill incoming!
Another reward.
1 hour later – Hunter Investigation Unit Captain’s Office
Captain Hong Jaegyeol listened to the report and stared up at the woman reporting with disbelief.
She stood at attention—but her head tilted in a weird, half-lazy angle.
Team 5’s leader: Pi Sowon.
“…That’s the whole report?”
“Yes.”
Despite the captain’s exasperation, Pi Sowon’s answer was short.
“So let me get this straight. The newbie shows up to work on her very first day, brings in a detection dog, discovers signs of a bomb, finds the bomb, AND catches the terrorist? And all of this just conveniently worked out?”
Reading something in the captain’s tone, Pi Sowon reached for another document.
“Should I… draw a picture?”
“Draw… a picture?”
In bureaucracy, “drawing a picture” meant:
creating a plausible version of the story for the higher-ups.
The higher-ups didn’t like the word “coincidence.”
If catching a terrorist was “luck,” then failure was also possible.
Which meant incompetence.
Which meant trouble.
“And what picture do you plan to draw?”
Pi Sowon placed down another file with a bored expression and began speaking fluidly.
“During Team 5’s internal routine inspection, a rookie in training followed proper procedures, discovered the bomb, tracked the terrorist on CCTV, pursued, and apprehended him. Report is already written.”
Captain Hong’s eyebrow twitched as he read.
“A very… neat picture.”
“…It works.”
The captain’s eyes narrowed.
