TCHF 06

Chapter 06

“Failed.”

Ding—

Gru’s eyes shook violently, as if she’d been struck on the head.

Joorim curled his lips upward in a smug pout, as if to say I told you so.

“Miss Han Gru.”

“Yeees….”

He casually checked the watch on his wrist and spoke.

“It’s already four o’clock. Shall we head back now?”

“Yeees… goo-bye….”

Gru bowed deeply from the waist and turned around.

As she toddled away, her turned shoulder trembled. Her tiny shoulders shook pitifully.

Sharp looks telling him not to bully a child poured toward Joorim.

Why am I the bad guy here?

He truly couldn’t understand it.

But Nayeon glared at him, silently urging him to hurry up and comfort her.

With a sigh—and the surprising realization that he wasn’t heartless enough to just stare at a crying four‑year‑old—Joorim stood up.

He grabbed the turned‑away Gru, stopped her, and spun her around.

A cute face smeared with tears and snot looked up at him.

This is driving me crazy.

Joorim was never kind to children.
No—he simply wasn’t kind to anyone.

But this little kid had a talent for weakening people that was practically Awakener‑level.

“Han Gru, stop.”

The sniffling Gru held her breath.

“Hup!”

Her cheeks puffed up, as if trying to stop crying. But tears poured from her big eyes like a waterfall.

Startled, Joorim held her face, wiped the corners of her eyes, then pressed a handkerchief to her nose.

“Blow your nose.”

“Blooow.”

After thoroughly clearing even the snot, Gru stuck out her trembling lips like a duck.

“I haven’t wearned that yet. Gru’ll know when Gru learns. The kindergarten teacher said if you teach Gru, Gru does everything well. Said I’m the elite of the chick class……”

“Alright. …Just don’t cry.”

Really, truly—she was just so upset that she couldn’t properly prove herself that the tears wouldn’t stop.

This was bad. She should’ve shown how smart she was and gotten scouted—crying like this was the worst.

This won’t do. They hate kids who cry.

“Hup!”

Gru held her breath again, cheeks puffing out.

Joorim stared straight into her eyes. Every time she hiccupped, her swollen cheeks bobbed up and down, and he finally turned to Nayeon with a defeated look.

“Do they sell kids’ snacks at the café on the first floor?”

“They should have some cookies.”

“Han Gru, want a cookie?”

“Cookie?”

Tempted, Gru sniffed.

“What do you like? Chocolate?”

In her head, cookies studded with dark chocolate chips were already floating around, and her mouth filled with saliva.

Sounds yummy……

No—if she just accepted a cookie here, it’d be a nuisance. At least minus a hundred points.

“Let’s go.”

Joorim tilted his head, and after rolling her eyes in hesitation, Gru nodded.

She was very sad—but she couldn’t resist cookies.

Naturally, Gru took Joorim’s hand.

“……”

Joorim stared at the child holding his hand, then let out a small sigh and headed for the café.

Following behind them, Nayeon cheered quietly.

“Gru, don’t cry. I don’t know what that means either.”

“……!”

“……?”

Both Joorim and Gru looked at Nayeon in surprise.

Nayeon grinned sheepishly.

Crying and getting a cookie—this was a total failure.

Handing the cookie to Gru, Joorim told her she must never come back again.

Even if she did, he wouldn’t let her in.

Should I just stop being a hunter and become Gudetama instead……

But she already knew she couldn’t be Gudetama anymore.

Not long after awakening, Gru had learned the well‑known fact that people cannot become egg yolks.
It was the bitter pain of growth left behind by the system.

Curling up on her side, Gru wiped away rolling tears and munched on her tear‑soaked cookie.

It’s good……

She didn’t know why cookies eaten when you’re sad tasted the best.

She played her favorite video on her kids’ phone—<Gudetama: Rolling Around Looking for Mom>.
The scene where the chick Shakipiyo saves Gudetama from being eaten by a customer at a Japanese restaurant came on.

Her pitch‑black pupils widened. Like Shakipiyo, Gudetama also wanted to see his mama.

“Mama…….”

She was crying from being moved when a notification popped up—someone had sent a message on Onion Market.

Checking the nickname from the review, it was Jang Young‑ung, a C‑rank hunter she had traded with before.

Guerrilla sales couldn’t bring in big profits. Most of her revenue so far came from regular customers.

Gru secretly squirmed her way into the small hole of the warehouse.

She gathered the syrups Jang Young‑ung wanted, stuffed them into the belly of a teddy bear, and operated the remote control.
The teddy bear moved skillfully, mounted a bicycle, and began pedaling.

Gru opened the door.

Kkiririk, kkiririk.

The bicycle entered the Dobongsan Dungeon.

An abandoned mine with poor management—it was a place often used for transactions.

As she passed through the winding, narrow tunnel‑like dungeon, Gru checked the old TV screen and tilted her head.

From afar, voices could be heard.

<“You’re here for an illegal transaction, right? This is Investigator Lee Min‑woo from Awakener Task Force Team 1. Please show your hunter license.”>

<“No, that’s not it. I was just passing through to see if there was anything here……”>

<“Enough excuses. Show your license. Continued refusal will result in an additional charge of obstructing an official duty.”>

Kkiririk, kkiririk.

As the bicycle drew closer, the voices grew louder.

<“Hunter Jang Young‑ung? It’s troublesome when someone of your stature does this.”>

<“Ah, I’m sorry. Please let it slide just this once. Really.”>

<“At C‑rank, you shouldn’t need to do this.”>

<“No, it’s not that I meant to……”>

Pedaling the kiddie bike energetically, Gru finally spotted them.

Huh?

Jang Young‑ung was arguing with someone.

That uniform—police.

Gru, an avid viewer of <24‑Hour Police Task Force>, could never mistake it.

It was even the Awakener Investigation Unit that appeared in episode 11.

They’re cracking down?

Was it because she’d been entering dungeons so freely? According to the adults on <24‑Hour Police Task Force>, it went like this:

Illegal.

Police station!

Piyo‑piyo!

Court—guilty, bang bang.

Goodbye, my 20 million won!

Boom!

Gru reversed the bike. She couldn’t get caught!

The child‑sized tricycle screeched madly as it sped away. Hearing the noise, an investigator turned his head.

Seeing the tiny figure flee, he cried out in alarm.

<“Hey! Stop right there!”>

Lee Min‑woo, about to chase after it, halted. Turning back, he saw Jang Young‑ung trying to sneak away before straightening up and pretending nothing happened.

They couldn’t let the buyer in an illegal deal escape either.

Lee Min‑woo spoke into the transmitter on his shoulder.

<“This is 12042. Requesting support from nearby hunters near the Dobongsan Dungeon. A suspect involved in illegal trade of Awakener items is fleeing. This is 12042. Requesting assistance.”>

The director’s sedan from the Management Bureau passed along the highway next to Dobongsan.

In the back seat, Director Kang Eun was chattering nonstop at the man wearing an eye patch.

“The one who trashed the Gongdeok Station dungeon recently—that was you too, right?”

“…….”

Joorim, arms crossed and wearing a black eye patch, seemed to be sleeping, breathing evenly. This wasn’t the first time.

As if knowing Joorim could hear everything, the director continued calmly.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to touch unregistered dungeons? Can’t you go even one day without causing an incident?”

Just then—brrrr—a phone vibrated against his chest.

A nearby support request.

Joorim removed his eye patch. When he tapped the notification, a map app opened and a location blinked.

The request had come from right next to their current position.

With half‑lidded, sleepy eyes, he checked his phone and recited in a textbook‑like tone:

“Well, well. A support request from the people’s trusty baton. As a proud hunter of the Republic of Korea, I can’t just stand by while criminals disturb public order.”