As always, thank you very much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)
Luao: Ikr? One day, I hope they'll remake Mystic Messenger with us being able to freely chat with everyone. I know, on a technical side that that's close to impossible, but a girl can dream, right? I could die happily, if I got this one wish granted. Also, I'm glad you enjoy the story so far :)
Chapter Four
Exorcist Service Hotline
Fascination—the state of being intensely interested or attracted to something. Said something has the capability to elicit interest due to its attractive traits and qualities. While this definition perfectly described his current state, it failed to do the magnetic force the cheerful detective radiated justice. Seven was at a loss for the first time in years. It was an unreasonable and inexplicable phenomenon.
Definitions, algebra, chemistry, biology, physics—nothing offered a plausible explanation for his weird fascination with her.
Shining brightly like a shooting star, she had crash landed on their spaceship and won them over in a heartbeat. It had only been five days, twelve hours and nine minutes since Mei had stumbled into Rika's apartment, yet she had turned their entire world upside down. Gone were the weekly arguments between members, the general absence of conversations and the coldness that Rika had left behind.
Mei had revived the chatroom with her alien super powers and he hoped it wasn't only a temporary anomaly.
Seven found himself waiting in front of the CCTV feed again, impatiently drumming his fingers next to the keyboard.
It was quater past three—the time Mei usually arrived at the apartment complex—and he wondered when exactly it had become his favorite time of the day. It was kind of pathetic that the sight of her waving at the cameras never failed to put him in high spirits. While he could try to explain it away by pointing to the nature of his job, which normally required him to maintain absolute invisibility and made having his existence acknowledged an interesting change of pace, his attraction towards her wasn't as easy to decipher.
After taking time to think it through, he reasoned his fascination was caused by precisely two reasons.
Firstly, the lack of human interaction in his day to day life was to blame. Vanderwood was the only person who saw him on a semi-regular basis and their interaction were as predictable as they were unkind. Therefore, having a brand new unpredictable source of entertainment—that wasn't threatening him with a taser every two minutes—would excite the reclusive hacker.
Secondly, his scientific curiosity for the unknown made him want to test her reactions. The desire to talk with her, hear her laugh at his jokes and play around with her was simply a manifestation of said curiosity, which had unfortunately proven to have the downside of being an incredibly effective distaction from work. However, Seven consoled himself with the thought that once he found out everything about her, the interest would turn out to be a temporary phenomenon and soon wear off.
Poof.
It would be gone in an instant as though it had never been there in the first place.
There was a noise from his phone that interrupted his train of thought, but Seven found that he didn't mind much. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he had been looking forward to the chatrooms lately, if only to have an opportunity to talk to her again. It looked like his patience had been rewarded since the detective was finally online.
[A new chatroom has opened; Stranger Things; 707, MC]
MC: Alien ship requests to communicate with Astronaut Seven. Meow.
707: Our friend from the Planet of Cats has arrived ヾ(＾∇＾)
707: Not inviting any guests today?
MC: I am, I am. I didn't feel well earlier, so I'm running a little late today (´ヘ｀;)
707: (ﾟ□ﾟ*川
707: Are you sick? Where does it hurt? What happened?
MC: It's nothing serious.
MC: My sister mixed up the cat food and tuna tin cans in our fridge, so I accidentally had cat food for lunch. And when I googled whether it was okay for humans to consume that, the search results said I'm deathly ill now lol
707: I'M WHEEZING
707: OMG
707: (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))
MC: Good thing I have a degree in medicine (ー∀ー；)
MC: Never consult with Dr. Google because stomach cancer is their diagnosis for everything!
707: How did it taste though? (╭ರ_⊙)
MC: Meh. I'd give it two out of five stars, but only because our cats love it.
707: Maybe you could ask Jumin to create his own brand of luxury cat food that's also edible for humans? I'm sure he'd be down lol
707: but aaaaanyways
707: When are you coming to the apartment?
MC: I'll arrive in...
MC: ...3
MC: ...2
MC: ...1
Sunlight followed her through the double doors as Mei entered the building, looked up from her phone and smiled brightly at one of the security cameras. He savoured the smile that was meant for him alone and wished it wasn't blurred by the poor quality of the video feed. Seven's heart beat loudly in his chest when she stopped walking to add a casual wave to her greeting.
707: Welcome back. Meow.
MC: Thanks for the warm welcome. Meow.
MC: There is something I've been meaning to ask you though ...
707: No need to be shy. You can ask me anything~
707: Except for selfies and personal informationヾ(-∀・*)
707: Secret agents need to stay secret lolol
MC: I really wanna see ur face though. I bet ur cute ( ▽ )
707: Nice try, but nope. Not gonna happen.
MC: (_ _|||)
Involuntarily, he grinned at the messages. While having her as his partner in crime was fun, there was nothing more satisfying than teasing a knowledge-hungry detective. Her obvious frustration with him was hilarious to watch, fueling his desire to discover what kind of faces she would make if he continued denying her request.
707: Greedy alien girl. Isn't my profile pic enough for you?!
707: (ー∀ー；)
MC: I can tell you're handsome, but it's so small urg
707: I'm not as good-looking as Zen, but I'm actually okay without glasses (ﾉ≧ڡ≦)
MC: The need to see ur face has increased by 707%
707: Oddly specific lolol
707: You have excellent taste though, miss!
MC: Curiosity has reached max!
707: I need to maintain the mysterious type though.
707: Unless of course, you're willing to get on ur knees and beg (¬‿¬)
MC: You're enjoying this, aren't you?
707: Yup. I can get a little sadistic when I tease people lol
Mei entered the apartment with a mischievous smile on her lips as she was cooking up a plan. It was ridiculously attractive and his attention was consumed by the monitor once again. Golden eyes widened in surprise when she actually got on her knees, deep blue irises peeking up at him from behind long lashes.
Seven gulped audibly. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He hadn't anticipated this reaction.
MC: Please, God Seven. Pretty please with cats on top (ﾟ∀ﾟ人)
707: Aaaah! Unfair!
707: Another critical hit to my heart. That's your second one, madam, please have mercy.
MC: May God have mercy on Seven, because I won't ψ(｀∇´)ψ
707: [ has stopped working.]
Seven resembled a ripe tomato as he fought against the warmth in his cheeks. He took off his expensive stripped glasses that had fogged up and wiped them clean on his shirt, wondering if she even knew what she was doing to him. Sinful thoughts and ideas made his head spin when he saw her kneewling in front of the camera with that fake innocent look on her pretty face. He was starting to sweat and his clothes began to feel constricting as his imagination went on a ride with him.
Control yourself, idiot.
When she got up with a laugh and threw herself on the couch, he was relieved and disappointed in equal measure. Seven considered calling her, hoping to tease her some more over the phone and getting to hear the frustrated noises that he enjoyed so much. It might make his current situation worse, but it was as tempting as an unopened bag of Honey Buddha chips dangling right in front of him.
However, he ended up scrapping the idea once he noticed her troubled expression.
Catching genuine concern on her features was a rarity in itself. Mei was generally a carefree and optimistic person, but she was also prone to hiding her emotions. He wasn't sure whether she had learned it during her medical training or developed the skill while working as a detective, but she was excellent at it. If he hadn't been trained by the agency to watch out for minuscule differences in people's behavior, the secret agent wouldn't have caught it.
Seven frowned, remembering that she had meant to ask him a serious question, and hoped his answer would provide comfort.
MC: On a more serious note … any new leads on the hacker?
707: I've been pulling all-nighters, but still nothing;;
707: Why? Did something happen?
MC: After our chat with V yesterday, Unknown left butchered messages with lots of numbers and weird signs in the chatroom.
Adrenaline ran through his veins when Seven browsed through the chat log, golden eyes skimming the conversations with godlike speed. He couldn't believe that he had been infiltrated again after dedicating hours to making sure the messenger app was safe. Seriously, he had double-checked every single line of code, forgone sleep to trace the hacker and even postponed work for the agency that had serious deadlines, only to have nothing to show for it.
It was frustrating.
It was even worse when he found absolutely nothing in the chat log. Nada. Niente. Nichts. Rien. Ничего. لا شيئ. Nothing was there at all.
707: I can't find it.
707: They must've deleted it. Did it look like code?
MC: No, more like someone trying to type on a foreign keyboard. I could only read snippets of it.
MC: "I have waited so long. I am going to corrupt you."
MC: Our dear hacker sure as hell isn't a poet, but it still doesn't make any sense.
707: I promise I will find them, it's only a matter of time.
Unknown's words stared back at him from the screen and burned themselves into his mind as he attempted to decypher their meaning. Mei was right, the message was cryptic at best and failed to offer an explanation for the attack on the chatroom. Nevertheless, he got the distinct impression that the hacker was out for vengence. It was only a theory, but since they had been waiting to hack into the messenger and didn't attack him directly, he believed that at least the possibility of a rival agency being involved could be eliminated.
However, if he wasn't their main target, then the RFA was, which lead to a completely different set of equally worrying million dollar questions. Why were they threatening the RFA? What were they planning? And how did the hacker know about the app in the first place? He didn't have an answer to the first two, but if V was right, then Unknown must've known Rika and learned about the messenger from her.
Seven was on edge, but he couldn't let the detective notice. She'd only worry more and he couldn't bare the thought of making her anxious because he didn't have control over his emotions. Mei needed the cheerful Seven, not the cold secret agent or the despicable man behind the mask. He was convinced it was better this way.
707: Seven-Zero-Seven is on the case!
707: Don't worry, m'lady (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
MC: Yeah, thanks. Please don't overwork yourself (´⌣`ʃƪ)
In contrast to her warm words, Mei's expression didn't change. If anything, she looked even more uneasy than before. Seven frowned confused, he had meant to achieve the exact opposite. Strange enough, it looked like his happy-go-lucky attitude had backfired. Maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought. Her inner workings were different to anyone he had met in his life, resembling an insolvable puzzle.
MC: It's just … why would they say these things if they were friends with Rika?
MC: If they were friendly, they wouldn't threaten the RFA, right?
MC: Maybe V was wrong about their reason for leading me to the apt after all.
707: We can't say for sure yet. Trust V and me.
The words sounded like empty platitudes, even to himself. Her doubts weren't unfounded since V's conclusion lacked evidence and his quick acceptance of her was beyond comprehension. Seven admitted that the only reason he hadn't protested against the rash decision to welcome her into the RFA himself was because of his special relationship with their leader. He trusted V with his life—his everything—and the man had never failed him or been wrong yet.
In the end, Mei turned out to be an amazing addition to the RFA, to the point where he didn't want to imagine them without her.
He only wished he knew how to comfort her. They didn't teach that in the secret agent handbook for beginners and it wasn't mentioned in the magazine for playboys either, which his neighbourhood friend Tom had recommended. Seven felt helpless and he didn't like the feeling at all.
[Yoosung has entered the chatroom.]
Yoosung: I agree with Mei. V has been acting shady, especially with pushing the party date so close.
Yoosung: Two weeks? How are we supposed to organize everything in two weeks?! (д╬)
MC: It's going to be tough, but with Jaehee and Jumin having my back, I'm confident that we can do it ヾ(-∀・*)
Yoosung: Really? I'm glad you say that because I'm really looking forward to the party. If there is anything I can help with, please tell me.
Yoosung: Also, I can't help but think that Rika will be watching us from the heavens, so I want it to be a success and for us to help lots of people (◠‿◠)
Yoosung: Anyways … Did you guys hear that strange alarm just now?
707: ?
MC: Alarm? Nope. I didn't hear anything.
Yoosung: I was about to complete a quest in LOLOL, but my phone kept ringing.
Yoosung: My guild members are gonna hate me for disappearing.
MC: Maybe there is an issue with the server?
Yoosung: Urggggg! I'm practically allergic to server maintenanceヾ(￣o￣;)
Yoosung: but I know it's the only way to prevent problems.
707: Hmmm perhaps your mom tried to call u?
Yoosung: I don't think so. If she called and I didn't pick up the phone, she'd have sent me a bunch of texts by now.
707: I'm gonna look into it after I'm done with work. I promise!
MC: Don't worry, Yoosung. Seven's working hard and I'm sure everything's gonna be alright ( •̀◡• ́)ﻭ✧
A weight lifted off his chest once he saw her face light up on the security feed. He would do everything in his power to be worthy of her trust and once he found the cockroach that crept into his system, he'd make sure they regret ever writing a line of code.
Yoosung: You're right. Negativity won't help (︶▽︶)
Yoosung: About V though ... I don't think he was completely wrong because
Yoosung: Don't you think Mei is kind of like Rika? (◠‿◠)
707: (ﾟ□ﾟ*川
707: Uhm lol wut?
707: Where did that come from?
Yoosung: Honestly, I was worried about someone taking Rika's place at first, but after getting to know Mei better I'm glad it happened.
MC: Yoosung, I neither can nor want to take her place. I don't think anyone can, and nobody should, because she will always be a special person to everyone.
Yoosung: Thanks for saying that, but never say never. You are really similar to her and I don't think that's a coincidence (◠‿◠)
MC: Well, I don't have the comparison, but from what I've heard we're pretty different;;
707: Totally different.
707: One of them would plan every detail of a party to achieve perfection while the other one would show up in a costume to spice it up and antagonize Jaehee.
707: Can you tell who is who? lololol
Yoosung: ...
MC: Stop making it sound like I'm a villain (๑‾᷅~‾᷄๑)੭ु⁾⁾˞͛ ༘ؓ ︠³
MC: Also, I object to your definition of perfection! Planning every detail is exhausting and boring! Costume parties are way more fun and if you had to give it a professional vibe, you could always go for a masquerade ball and make getting to know the guests a game.
707: It's also way easier to get under her skin as you can see lolol
707: Maybe it's just me, but I don't see the similarities at all?
707: ┐(´～｀)┌
Seven was seriously worried for his friend. Yoosung hadn't recovered from Rika's death yet—most of them hadn't since they never even got to bury a body—and his grief was often clouding his view of the world. When she was still alive, he had taken the term sister complex and turned it into cousin complex, and he was clinging to her image like a lifeline even after her death.
It would be the understatement of the year to claim Yoosung admired Rika. He was obsessively in love with her.
Yoosung: They're both optimistic, helpful, energetic and always cheer people up (*≧▽≦)
Yoosung wasn't entirely wrong, but he barely scratched the surface.
While Rika had always carried herself with effortless elegance, Mei had an air about her that made people comfortable and he swore her brand of humor could brighten the darkest room. Overall, she seemed more approachable and her candidness was endearing. She might not be as experienced with managing events, but she was lovely in her own special way.
On the other hand, Rika had never struck him as particularly optimistic, her views on the nature of humanity bordered on fatalistic. It was a lot closer to his own pessimistic belief system, if he had to be honest. She was charming and charismatic in a way that made people want to be liked by her, yet she was also reserved and kept her distance. When it came to helping people, Rika had always been ambitious with her projects carrying grand idealistic dreams that sometimes sounded too good to be true, whereas Mei was a realist and leaned more towards a modest life.
They couldn't be more different to him.
Seven shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know why he was reacting so defensively, but comparing the two women rubbed him the wrong way. He risked a glance at the CCTV and watched the young detective furrow her brows in thought. Confusion was written all over her face and if he read her correctly, there was a hint of dejection as well. It didn't suit her, he wanted her to be happy.
Yoosung: Maybe Mei is Rika's reincarnation and her spirit lives on inside her.
MC: Call an exorcist omg (ʘᗩʘ')
MC: Ghosts are scary! Urg!
707: Keep calm, my dear possessed customer. Welcome to the emergency hotline for paranormal activity!
707: Exorcist Seven at your service (⌐▨_▨)
MC: Yes, hello. I'm so glad you picked up. A friend thinks his cousin's spirit lives inside of me and I don't know what to do;;
707: Please tell me what religion you follow, so we can get rid of the ghost possessing you!
707: We offer 24-hour readings of bible verses, only 1,000₩ per hour. How about a sample?
707: Oh Father in Heaven, Holy be thy name~
Everything was worth it when he saw her hold her stomach from laughing so hard. It warmed his heart and he wished he could hear the sound. Seven had heard it on the phone a couple of times. It was melodic like a bell chime and when she was in a laughing fit, Mei snorted between giggles sometimes. She found it embarrassing, but he thought it was adorable.
Yoosung: Guys, I'm serious (´ヘ｀;)
MC: And I'm a lost cause because I'm an atheist lmao
MC: How do I protect myself from ghosts then?;;
707: Create a circle of salt around you to keep them out. Get a crowbar or something made of iron to clobber them if they get too close.
707: You could also look for another ghost to fight the ghost, find their remains and burn them or help them resolve their issues.
MC: (￣▽￣)ゞ
MC: I'd love to resolve issues in a peaceful manner, but I don't know enough to help, so I'll buy salt and a crowbar.
707: As luck would have it, we have those items on sale in our amazing anti-poltergeist bundle (⌐▨‿▨)
707: Interested?
MC: Yes.
Yoosung: Violence is not the answer! And please don't hurt Rika's spirit (ノ﹏ヽ)
Yoosung: Also, Rika was catholic, so you can't be her reincarnation after all.
707: Reincarnation doesn't exist in catholicism anyways lolol
Yoosung: If you're an atheist, Mei, what do you believe in? How are you sure there is no God?
707: Yoosung, that's kinda …
MC: I'm not sure if there is a God or not, but even if there is I don't believe in them.
MC: Following beliefs blindly isn't really my thing. I'm making a rare exception for Seven atm (〜￣△￣)〜
707: Oh, I'm special
MC: I believe in myself and that every person on this planet has the potential to do good.
That way of thinking was so utterly and entirely Mei that it brought a smile to his face. Leave it to her to make atheism sound amazing, even to the ears—or in this case eyes—of a devout catholic. Seven may not share her naïve view of the world, but he was glad there were bright people like her around who could still think that way. He'd love to talk more about their different beliefs, but this was about Yoosung.
707: Whaaat? Even genius hackers like me?!
MC: Of course! I believe in God Seven! (≧∀≦ゞ
Yoosung: Rika really believed in God. She talked about it all the time …
707: Using Mei as a replacement for Rika is unfair to her, you know?
707: She's her own person with her own beliefs, habits, likes and dislikes.
Yoosung: I guess you and Rika really are different. I'm sorry, Mei.
Yoosung: I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or suggest that you are a replacement.
MC: No worries, I get that you miss her a lot.
Yoosung: I'm so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)
MC: Everything is forgiven, okay? I was never even angry in the first place!
Yoosung: Are you sure? (ಥ﹏ಥ)
MC: You beat me in Mario Kart this weekend and while I'm still unsure how, our friendship survived that. I was honestly more annoyed back when you managed to snipe me with that green shell right in front of the finish line lol
707: ahahahAHHAHA
MC: Shut up, Seven ٩(๑`н´๑)۶
707: Salty lol
MC: You're also way too sweet to hold a grudge against, Yoosung (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ
707: Puppy dog Yoosung. Always ready to slay with adorableness.
Yoosung: This is the second time you friendzoned me;;
Yoosung: I don't wanna be cute. How am I ever gonna get a girlfriend if I'm always just the cute one? (ó﹏ò｡)
MC: +100 Cuteness Points
707: +52 Forever Alone Points
Yoosung: You guys are mean. I'm leaving for LOLOL.
Yoosung: Don't forget to eat dinner, Mei.
MC: Good luck with the raid.
707: Beat up all them chickens (・∧‐)ゞ
[Yoosung has left the chatroom.]
Seven watched Mei shake her head with a smile. She had gotten over her gloomy mood and was back to being the bubbly, carefree woman he knew. It was getting late and he still had a mountain of work waiting at the edge of his desk, but he didn't feel like starting yet. His mind was still scattered across space and his hands were cramping from endless hours of typing.
MC: Thanks for the support. I'll rate your exorcism service five stars on yelp *ヾ(-∀・*)
MC:
707: Thank you, kind customer~
707: You'll get a special discount next time, but only if you tell me what's on your mind right now?
MC: Hmmm still watching the CCTV, huh? Can't keep ur eyes away? (¬‿¬)
Mei turned her head to the side, waggling her eyebrows at the camera. Seven felt his lips twitch into a small grin, wondering why talking to her was so easy. He hadn't even noticed how used he had become to being ignored in the chatroom until she came along. He knew he should keep his distance—their jokes were dangerously close to flirting—but found himself unable to resist the temptation.
As long as he restricted himself to the messenger and the occasional phone call, it should be okay right? He could allow himself to dream a little and escape to a fantasy world, where his agency wouldn't skin him alive for expressing interest in another person.
707: God Seven is always watching (⌐▨‿▨)
MC: Orwell would be proud lmao
707: C'mon out with it. The suspense is killing me!
707: (_ _|||)
MC: It's payback for not letting me see ur face.
707: Hmm, I see. How about a deal?
707: I get you off that dodgy online dating website and you tell me what's on your mind.
707: It's a good deal, right? (ﾟ∀ﾟ人)
MC: Unfair. There is no way I can say no to that!
MC: Can you really do it though? That website is run by the Al Capone of the online dating world;;
707: Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.
Seven had already removed every trace of her from the website yesterday, but she didn't have to know that. He had hacked into the server and planted a few pretty terrible viruses out of spite. While he was curious how she ended up there in the first place, he wouldn't pry. It was obvious she regretted it.
MC: I'm thinking of ways to stall for time before I have to get to answering emails again (￣▽￣)ノ
MC: That pharmacist guy keeps typing Tiaranol in all caps and I'm not sure what to reply?
MC: What even is Tiaranol? I only know Tylenol, the fever-reducing painkiller.
707: He sounds passionate lolol
707: Hope you're still having fun. Don't want our new party planner to collapse from stress ((((；ﾟДﾟ)))
MC: Seven, pls don't ...
707: Maybe you need some
707: TIARANOL (∩｡･ｏ･｡)っ.ﾟ ｡'`
MC: I'm leaving.
707: No you're not lolol
MC: ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)＿
707: Victory (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و
707: Gah! I don't wanna work, but I really gotta go before my maid comes back.
707: Mary Vanderwood the 3rd will get suuuper angry
707: and yell at me a lot;;
MC: Ohh your maid sounds fierce. Good luck, Seven.
707: Laterz!
[707 has left the chatroom.]
Reluctantly, Seven focused his attention on the pile of work in front of him. He had put the hacking jobs for the agency on the back burner and Vanderwood was going to check on him in an hour. If he wanted to avoid electricity burning away the fine hairs on his neck, he'd have to demolish the tower of files until there was nothing but shreds left. It sounded like a job for a virtual wrecking ball, however, most of the work that was currently assigned to him wasn't pressing.
It could wait until he ate.
Opening a bag of Honey Buddha Chips—the snack of the Gods—Seven leaned back in his chair and stared at the three monitors in front of him. He was freaking tired, simply keeping his eyes open was a challenge and even eating his favorite chips was draining his energy. Maybe he had time for a five-minute power nap. Mei always told him to take care of himself, so perhaps he should.
It was strange how his train of thought was always leading him back to the detective lately.
Her reactions were as puzzling to him as his own responses to her. It had been a while since he hit puberty, but he didn't remember ever having strong reactions to the opposite sex. Of course, Seven wasn't a complete idiot. Mei was a beautiful woman and he was only a man, however, he had always considered himself somewhat emotionless and indifferent. Even when he was younger and went to college abroad, all he had cared about was getting a degree and working for the agency.
It wasn't like him to get exited when she was online, to smile when she helped him tease other members or to laugh when she got frustrated with him.
Seven didn't deserve that kind of happiness.
"What the hell are you doing? You're just sitting there like a bum." Vanderwood's angry voice and a kick against the back of his chair shook him from his thoughts. "You can sleep when you're dead and you will be if you don't do your job. Now where is my taser … Oh, there it is."
"Huh? Aarrgh! Miss Vanderwood!" Seven hadn't even heard the gate announce his arrival, making him wonder if he actually fell asleep. "Madam! Please put that taser away! That's for torture."
"Don't scream, you're hurting my ears." Vanderwood rubbed his temples, fighting the oncoming headache. "And quit callin' me madam."
"Then Sir Vanderwood!"
"Stop joking around." The older agent glared at him over the bridge of his nose, gloved hand twitching towards the taser in the pocket of his signature black trenchcoat with leopard print on the inside. "You aren't funny."
"No." Seven smiled as he denied the request, getting a kick out of annoying his coworker.
"Do you want me to hit you?" Vanderwood folded his arms across his chest and raised a challenging eyebrow.
"No!"
He continued his interrogation in an attempt to appear unperturbed. "Did you finish work?"
"No." Seven bit back a laugh. It was almost to easy to ruffle his feathers, Vanderwood really had a temper problem.
"Tch. Are you doing that on purpose?!"
"No," he lied and quickly changed the topic. "When did you come in? I've made it so the gate question changes at midnight. How did you manage to come in?!"
Seven was honestly curious. If the older agent got inside his bunker that easily, there might be a hole in his security system, meaning he'd have to upgrade it again. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he'd do what he had to if it meant controlling who could come in and who couldn't. Moreover, it was kinda funny to watch his superior getting frustrated with a gate.
"I carry around an Arabic dictionary because of you, idiot." Vanderwood lamented, throwing him another accusing glare that made him snicker. It was one of his guilty pleasures to test the older agent's patience. "Don't change the subject!"
"No."
"Oh? You're fond of that word today," Vanderwood said calmly and pulled out his shiny black taser. "I guess you're not afraid of my taser gun then."
Electricity sizzled dangerously between two metal plates at 50,000 volts when he flicked the switch with his thumb. Once it got triggered, it would lose some of its electric force in the air, but 0.07 to 0.12 amp still hurt like hell. Seven briefly considered his options before coming to the conclusion that remaining uncooperative—even if it would be more entertaining—would lead to a world of pain that he'd rather avoid. He started playing with the wire from his orange headphones while he tried to come up with a new strategy
"Alright," he admitted temporary defeat and the smile on his face vanished. "You're the boss and I'm the servant, right?"
"Why haven't you finished work?" Vanderwood stared him down, ignoring his comment. "You better come up with a brilliant excuse, genius."
"Because I didn't work." Seven knew he was simply prolonging the inevitable, but there was still a slight chance he could successfully distract his coworker.
"My finger is having a very hard time trying not to pull the trigger," he threatened coldly. "Is it because you got paid with those potato chips last time? Your performances have been really bad after that and the boss told me you haven't been doing very well lately in general."
"The Honey Buddha Chips have nothing to do with my recent performances. But ..." Seven paused dramatically, hoping to create suspense. "I do have a prediction report saying that I do really well if I'm compensated with cars. Do you want to see it?"
"Cars? If you get anything from an intelligence agency, you're just going to be traced. I wouldn't take it for the world." Vanderwood rolled his brown eyes, but at least he put the taser away. However, Seven didn't even have time to enjoy his victory because his superior apparently wasn't finished ranting. "Why don't you ask them to give you a maid instead? Why is your house like this all the time? Empty soda cans, potato chip bags … and why did you shred all that paper? Do you have ADHD? I can't believe you manage to get work done in here."
Seven let his gaze wander over the bunker.
Dust particles were floating through the air and he had recently discovered that they consist mostly out of dead human skin. It wasn't a very comforting thought, but cleaning wasn't on his list of priorities with everything that had been going on lately. Golden eyes inspected the shredded paper that lay scattered across the floor, which was actually the product of an experiment and not a scheme to anger Vanderwood.
Since he had been struggling with his concentration lately, Seven had searched for a solution online and found a website that claimed the act of shredding could built confidence, teach accuracy and increase attention to detail. He had immediately tested their theory with a basket full of old bills and documents that had been waiting for the shredder. Watching the papers get sliced into pieces was surprisingly comforting. It was simply a welcome byproduct that the mess the process left behind annoyed his coworker.
Shredding was awesome and cathartic.
"I was just about to say that my house is so dirty that I'm always distracted," Seven said, smelling the opportunity for a decent excuse. "The boss will understand once we give him a picture of my house."
"Yeah, yeah. He'll totally understand," Vanderwood muttered while sitting down on the couch. "Urg! Your sofa smells like soda."
"That's the lovely smell of Dr. Pepper. I really get focused once I drink it," Seven explained with a smirk and twirled around in his office chair, "but once I'm finished, it makes my house more dirty. It's a vicious circle."
"If you're looking for pity or manipulate me into buying soda or clean your house for you, you're talking to the wrong person." Vanderwood ran a hand through his brown hair. "Don't make me regret giving you leeway and finish your work already. Otherwise, I'll have no choice, but to report your uncooperative behavior to the boss."
The older agent would never admit it, but he definitely had a soft spot for the hacker after years of working together, which was something the latter regularly capitalized on. Even being a member of the RFA was only possible because Vanderwood turned a blind eye to it, though he wasn't above using it as blackmail material against him. If it was any other way, Seven probably would've been reported to the agency and sent to one of their diciplinary facilities.
However, the current threat was still hanging in the air and he hoped that if he rambled about some of his weirder thoughts, Vanderwood would be freaked out enough to let his tardiness slide. If he made it extra dramatic, maybe he could manipulate him to clean the bunker on top of it.
"Since my house is like this, I can't help but imagine decoding all the dust particles that fly around here … Huh… ? Decoding them in my imagination is making me hallucinate all the palm oil particles from the Honey Buddha Chips multiplying exponentially!" Seven gasped in fake horror. "Oh God … after eating and breathing them in every day, I wonder how much of my body is made of corn starch and honey particles. To be a Honey Buddha chip, or not to be a Honney Buddha chip ... that's the question, right? I'll never get work done if my house stays like this and turns me into a Honey Buddha chip."
Vanderwood wasn't amused. "Maybe if you sort through all the empty chip bags and dirty laundry, you can find the fucks I give, but until then keep your Shakespeare shit to where it belongs, you fucking tomato."
"Tomato?" Seven grinned. "Are you saying that because my hair is red? I admit that a tomato chip suits me better, but that's still haircist."
"What the hell are you taking about, you weirdo?" Vanderwood narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Why do I have to work with this idiot?"
"An idiot?" His grin grew wider. "Aren't you being to harsh on a genius secret agent right now?"
"I barely stopped myself from calling you a cockroach since your house is always like this." Vanderwood pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know if I come here to keep an eye on you or be your maid."
"Alright. Vanderwood the 3rd. Sorry I treat you like a maid all the time." Seven wasn't sorry at all. "Maybe you can start sweeping the floor first?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"No."
Seven didn't even flinch when the older agent's hand twitched towards the taser gun again. It was simply too funny to watch Vanderwood stew in silent anger as he had apparently managed to make him allergic to the word 'no'. He was pretty sure the man's rage was intense enough that it could be used as an alternative source of fuel and fix the energy crisis. However, he didn't want the reactor imploding on him, so he quickly moved on to the second part of his strategy: blackmail.
"If you're not going to clean," Seven warned, "then I need to play a round of LOLOL instead."
"What? God, seriously ..." he groaned, but finally admitted defeat. "Alright, I'll clean up your house so get back to work, idiot."
Muttering curses beneath his breath, Vanderwood got up from the couch and made himself useful. Seven smirked when he heard the irritated agent drag himself towards a cupboard in search for cleaning supplies. Manipulation was one of his greatest abilities and it always worked like a charm once he knew enough about his target. Human minds were pretty fragile once you knew where to apply pressure and everyone had weak spots.
Vanderwood had been his guinea pig and unknowingly contributed to perfecting the skill.
Stretching his slender fingers, Seven turned his chair towards the monitors in order to begin working, but his breath caught in his throat once he saw unfamiliar strings of green code on his desktop. A red warning label throned on top of the screen and it was accompanied by a glowing ruby skull. Golden eyes flew over the screen in an attempt to identify the programming language.
It wasn't Java, C-sharp, SQL, PHP or C++. It couldn't be Ruby either since that was for beginners and whoever wrote this couldn't be a beginner. It looked like Phython—a high level, server-side scripting language used for websites and mobile apps—which was what he used to program the messenger, but he wasn't completely sure, so further investigation was needed.
"Huh? What? But why did my screen freeze?" Seven asked, perplexed, after his attempts to get into the code failed. "Vanderwood come see this."
Heavy footsteps approached from behind, accompanied by an annoyed sigh from the man. However, every trace of exasperation disappeared once he saw what the redhead was pointing at. "... Hey, I think you got hacked."
"Me? Hacked?" Seven shook his head in disbelief. It only took a few clicks and he had his screen unfrozen. "This is … this is the RFA messenger server ..."
It was as though cold fingers of dread closed around his heart, gripping it so tightly that he could barely breathe. Seven had assumed the mysterious hacker had only temporarily broken through his defenses and been satisfied with intruding on the messenger itself. He hadn't even considered that they'd be able to sneak into the deepest parts of the server. God, he shouldn't have been arrogant and underestimated them.
Seven should've been more cautious.
However, he couldnt allow himself to wallow in self-pity either since needed a clear and calm mind to deal with this issue. He forced his breathing to slow, repressed the panic and pushed the terror aside. Then, he focused on a way to counter the attack and decided that his best bet was moving the messenger files to another server. It was a cowardly grab-and-run strategy, but he didn't care if it would prevent further breaches for a while. Everyone's personal information would be safe until he found the cockroach crawling through his sanctuary.
It took him roughly an hour until he had moved the data over to another server.
Hands flying across the keyboard, Seven was extra careful this time and surrounded the data with impenetrable walls of code. It was a masterpiece created by the Michelangelo of cyber space. He imagined himself as the painter, the hacker as Icarus and his code as the sun. If they ever dared to fly too close to it again, the wax on their wings would melt, their skin would burn and they'd drown in the endless ocean below.
Satisfied with his work, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes.
The RFA would be safe, Mei would be safe and they would have an amazing party in two weeks. Seven wouldn't let a filthy hacker change that. He may not know anything about them, but he was certain of one fact. The bright detective's deduction had been right all along. The mysterious hacker was targeting the RFA exclusively and that's what worried him the most.
To Be Continued ...