The Laughing Squirrel Toy ground to a halt before the information desk. Detecting its target, the toy’s neck stretched out, long and ominous. “Kyaaa-ha-ha-ha! Kyaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Kyaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” As the toy shrieked with a laugh torn from a horror film, the receptionist screamed. “What the— What is that thing?!” A small commotion rippled through the lobby. “What’s going on now?” “Let’s go check it out.” The security guards abandoned their post. In that brief, unguarded moment, Cheon Sol scurried past the entry gate. He was so small that simply ducking his head was enough to slip past the entrance sensor undetected. Mission complete: successful infiltration. Now for the next step. Spotting an elevator with its doors still open, Cheon Sol bolted towards it. The employees inside all turned to stare as the small figure rushed in. Startled by the attention, Cheon Sol’s eyes darted about nervously. “Hewwo! I’m Cheon Sol from Byeolbit Kindergarten’s Squirrel Class!” He offered a deep, formal bow, and a soft chorus of admiration filled the small space. A friendly-looking woman crouched down to his level and asked where he was headed. Cheon Sol pointed a tiny index finger straight up. “There! The very top!” In truth, he had no idea where the Hyeonak guild master’s office was. But his logic was simple: Hyeonak’s guild master was the highest-ranking person, and the highest-ranking person was always on the highest floor. That’s how it worked in the dramas, anyway. If not, I’ll just check floor by floor. With every level the elevator climbed, his heart pounded harder. Visibly tense, Cheon Sol stepped out onto the top floor. Luckily, the offices were walled with floor-to-ceiling glass, giving him a clear view inside. Whenever he spotted a man, he pressed his face to the glass and fixed him with a terrifyingly intense stare. One unfortunate man who met his gaze recoiled as if he’d seen a ghost, then approached the glass with hesitant steps. Not him. He’s ugly. Without a second thought, Cheon Sol scurried away. After sprinting back and forth across the entire top floor, he finally found a familiar face in a corner office. Oh Joomin had noticed the child ten minutes ago. …A staff member’s kid? Even someone as naturally indifferent as him couldn’t completely ignore a child staring at him as if he were a mortal enemy. The kid had been peeking out from behind a white pillar, eyes locked on him. Slightly bewildered, Oh Joomin leaned against his desk and addressed the hunter currently giving a report. “Shin Nayoung, did you secretly become a mother?” “Me? I was about to ask if you secretly became a father, Guild Master.” “Hmm, but that look… it’s the product of a long, sticky love-hate relationship. The way they’re staring at you is far from ordinary.” “Not even in my dreams. A ‘long, sticky love-hate relationship’…” Oh Joomin gazed intently at the child. He ran through a mental list of past relationships but couldn’t come up with a single match. When their eyes met again, the child flinched and began glancing around frantically. There you are. You’re caught. Oh Joomin pointed a finger directly at the pillar. At that moment, the child finally stepped out from behind it. A little boy with doll-like features, his pale, platinum-blonde hair tied into twin braids. He had chubby cheeks, big round eyes, and wore a blue dress with a yellow hat. A textbook kindergartener. Oh Joomin beckoned for him to come closer. With tiny footsteps that seemed to make their own pitter-patter sound effect, the boy hurried toward him. Soon, he stood right in front of the desk. Oh Joomin pretended to flip through his documents. The child, his enormous eyes still sparkling, continued to stare up at him. Oh Joomin sighed and reluctantly broke the silence. The boy straightened his posture and gave another formal bow. “I’m Cheon Sol from Byeolbit Kindergarten’s Squirrel Class!” He spoke clearly, though his childish lisp garbled some of the words. Oh Joomin glanced at Nayoung, who was barely stifling her laughter behind a hand. Expressionless, he asked dryly, “Looking for your parents?” He was about to call for a building-wide announcement, but Cheon Sol shook his head violently. “Then are you looking for a playmate? You won’t find one here.” Oh Joomin let out a short, unimpressed huff at the immediate denial. He was about to send the boy off to find his parents when the child suddenly blurted out something completely unexpected. “Guild Mastow! Pwease sewcout me!” Nayoung blinked in shock. Oh Joomin, doubting he’d heard correctly, repeated the word. Cheon Sol looked at him as if he didn’t understand and quickly corrected himself. “Guild Mastow! Pwease wet me join da guild!” Cheon Sol’s expression was triumphant, as if to say, There! I explained it so you could understand! A knowing smile touched Oh Joomin’s lips. “Ah, I see. There are always kids who want to become hunters…” Hunters were the most coveted profession in the modern world. Several guilds had already started scouting talented children, training them under programs like the Youth Supporters initiative. It wasn’t unheard of for ambitious students to show up at Hyeonak Guild, hoping for a chance. Cheon Sol’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, awaiting his answer. “You’d be the youngest one yet.” Ha! That’s the power of my talent! Puffing out his chest with pride, Cheon Sol grinned. Then, Oh Joomin picked up the phone’s receiver. “Come pick up this kid and send him home.” The moment his short call ended, a pair of assistants entered the office. “Oh my, how did you get all the way up here?” Dangling helplessly in someone’s arms, Cheon Sol shot Oh Joomin a look of profound sorrow. But Oh Joomin simply turned his gaze back to his documents, completely unfazed. Cheon Sol pouted, his cheeks puffing out in frustration. A mistake. He hadn’t prepared thoroughly enough. For now, this was a tactical retreat. Cheon Sol never gives up! For the 2 million won trapped on Garlic Market, for his quests, and for his mom and dad! Fully prepared, Cheon Sol once again stood before Oh Joomin’s desk. This time, he activated his status window and began reading aloud as if giving a formal presentation. “I’m wittow, but I’m an awakend pwerson! Da system’s adjwustments impwoved my intewwectual capabwitiez, and I hav da pewfect abiwities fow Hyeonak’s gwowth!” After taking a deep breath, Cheon Sol exhaled with dramatic flair. Shin Nayoung, sitting nearby, clapped enthusiastically like a proud parent at a kindergarten recital. “Our amazing Cheon Sol! What a great presentation!” Beaming with pride, Cheon Sol grabbed the hem of his dress and dipped into a polite curtsy. Meanwhile, Oh Joomin, whose nap had just been interrupted, was utterly bewildered. Since when is my office a kindergarten talent show? He took off his eye mask and glanced between the excited kindergartener awaiting his response and the guild member who was now beaming as she snapped photos. Oh Joomin tapped his fingers on his desk. “Heonteo Shin Nayoung, you seem to have a lot of free time these days.” “Gasp! Yes! How did you know?” “How would I not know? You’re in my office every day.” “Ahh, that makes sense!” Oh Joomin clicked his tongue. Shin Nayoung was living proof that if you were strong enough, you never had to struggle a day in your life. He decided to be more direct. “Heonteo Shin Nayoung. Cause all the trouble you want outside, but not in my office.” Her innocent expression suggested that nothing he said would register. Shin Nayoung was an unstoppable force until someone physically removed her. “From now on, only come in if you have actual business here.” “But I do have business!” Nayoung proudly gestured toward Cheon Sol with both hands. Cheon Sol swayed shyly, hiding his hands behind his back. Oh Joomin sighed, his shoulders slumping in resignation. With a small smirk, he motioned for Cheon Sol to come closer. Ooh! That seems like a good sign! Cheon Sol’s face lit up as he scurried forward. Finally, was his talent being recognized? Oh Joomin slid a document across his desk. Cheon Sol stared down at the paper. A bad feeling crept up his spine. It was filled with English. Oh Joomin pointed at a word that started with an A. The ultimate villainous question for a kindergartener. The overwhelming wall of text made Cheon Sol’s head spin. He didn’t know any of it. His entire knowledge base came from kindergarten lessons and television. After much squirming and a few hesitant whimpers, he finally gathered the courage to say the only English word he recognized.

Chapter 5: The Smallest Infiltrator