Before the colleague at the next table noticed him, Hashimoto Maya quietly set down his chopsticks, planning to make his escape—though it was a shame to abandon the noodles he had barely touched, compared with the trouble that would follow, he would rather go buy ten more bowls of noodles.
But before his butt had even left the stool, his phone buzzed. An email had arrived, and judging by the vibration pattern, it was one that required special attention.
Hashimoto Maya froze.
Hashimoto Maya: "..." No way. It can't be what I think it is, can it?
After a moment of silence, he stiffly took out his phone. A familiar email address leaped into view. The sender was indeed Uzo.
When he opened it, he found a task that made Hashimoto Maya's breathing stop.
[That child and his classmates seem to be near you? They appear to be planning something interesting, and children always need adults to look after them. Stay there.]
The two lines automatically translated themselves in Hashimoto Maya's eyes as: Your elementary school student colleague is nearby. They're plotting some sinister scheme. Go follow them and clean up their mess.
Hashimoto Maya: "..." Can I refuse?
He respectfully replied: [Understood. I will carry it out.]
After putting away his phone, Hashimoto Maya let out a long sigh, stared blankly for more than ten seconds, then picked up his chopsticks again.
...Since it had come to this, he might as well eat first.
Only with a full stomach would he have the energy to deal with all kinds of emergencies, as well as the malice of that overachiever colleague.
After lifting two bites of noodles, Hashimoto Maya's exhausted thoughts began moving again.
He suspiciously glanced behind the potted plant divider. "..." *Come to think of it,