Conspiring out loud

The next day, Mophead brought over a huge stack of documents, set them on the table at Twilight's house, and slapped them with a gloomy expression.

"I went to city hall and photocopied all the single women's records."

Twilight sat on the sofa across the table from Mophead, his face expressionless. "Thanks."

Richie had noticed that Twilight rarely showed any emotion, or even much of an expression. He really was an ice-cold spy who could make countless girls swoon.

Explosionshead explained, "A woman who'd accept a father with kids, have the poise to fit in with high society, and be able to get the marriage paperwork done within forty-eight hours...

"If a goddess like that existed, I'd love to meet her myself. I'm not picky at all, and I've never even been on a date!"

Twilight's voice remained utterly calm, without the slightest fluctuation. "How pitiful."

Explosionshead practically exploded, slamming both hands on the table and roaring at Twilight like a wolfhound ready to bite. "Take your pity and swallow it!"

Startled, Anya ran to hide beside the sofa's armrest, keeping her head out of sight.

Sitting on the sofa, Richie instinctively scooted farther back into the cushions and shrank into himself. An angry Explosionshead was seriously scary.

Anya peeked out from beside the armrest with one big, watery eye. "Nobody wants someone with kids. Is Anya in the way?"

Twilight gave a rare smile, reached out to rub Anya's head, and said with incredible gentleness, "You're not in the way. Don't worry about silly things. Go watch TV!"

Anya narrowed her eyes like a kitten being petted, blissfully enjoying Twilight Dad's head pats.

Beside them, Richie watched with a doting grin. Twilight was so gentle. Another juicy moment to savor.

Anya went around the sofa and came up beside Richie. "Richie, watch TV with Anya."

Richie's eyes shifted. He would rather listen to Twilight and Explosionshead plot their next mission. As for television, he... wasn't interested.

"Anya, you go ahead! I'm sleepy. I want to take a nap."

Richie reached out, barely managing to reach Anya's head. He had wanted to pat her head for ages.

Anya had looked blissful when Twilight patted her head, but after Richie did it, she refused to settle for that. "Anya wants to pat Richie too."

Anya pointed at Richie's head. Eager to listen to Twilight and Mophead's plotting, Richie simply lowered his head and let her pat it.

After touching his hair, Anya's eyes sparkled. "Richie, your hair is so soft."

One stroke wasn't enough for her. As though petting a dog, she kept grabbing Richie's hair with her little paws and rubbing it back and forth. "Wow-so soft."

"Anya really wants a doggy, just like Richie's head."

Richie's head was practically smoking, and Anya was nearly pulling his scalp off. Unfortunately, with his head lowered and unable to lift it, she couldn't see how angry he looked.

"Anya-" Tears welled in Richie's eyes. His poor scalp-and she had already yanked out several strands of his already sparse hair.

Anya's face fell. Oh no. I played with Richie a little too rough.

She hurriedly darted away, ran over to the television, and turned on Spy Wars, pretending nothing had happened.

Watching Anya, Richie desperately reminded himself, She's my little sister. I'll put up with it.

Once Anya had left, Richie slumped onto the sofa, sprawling without a shred of dignity.

Just now, when Explosionshead had mentioned a woman who could get the marriage paperwork done within forty-eight hours, Richie had heard it as a woman with proof of a negative PCR test taken within forty-eight hours.

He had nearly laughed aloud and given himself away.

Over on the other side, Mophead took advantage of Richie and Anya's young age, acting as though neither could understand, and leaned toward Twilight's ear to conspire out loud. "For a mission like this, why not just grab one of your female agents to partner with you?"

Richie lay flat on the sofa, giving up on all effort, while excitement bubbled inside him. Yes, go partner up with your female superior, Nightfall. That would work too. Hehehe.

Twilight picked up a file from the table and began screening candidates. "A lot of people were arrested during the recent mass crackdown. There's no one suitable."

Understanding dawned on Mophead. "Oh, right. Everyone's busy reporting people these days."

Twilight committed the previous woman's information to memory and reached for the next file. "We're short-staffed, so I've had to take on another mission too. Apparently, I'm supposed to take down a smuggling ring."

Mophead looked indignant on Twilight's behalf. "What kind of exploitative workplace is this? Ugh. Let's just get it over with."

Then Mophead changed tack. "First, the easiest option is someone whose interests line up with yours and who has a secret they can't talk about. You could also find something to hold over them. If there's nothing, just make something up!"

Lying on the sofa, Richie felt an inexplicable urge to laugh. As expected of Twilight Dad's best partner—first-rate at cooking up schemes.

Still, if Papa Twilight was going to take down a smuggling ring, Richie could tag along for the fun.

Richie's mind raced. Even if Papa Twilight persuaded Mophead to join him on the mission, he definitely wouldn't take Richie along.

First, he had to find a way into Twilight Dad's car and keep the Art Ring safe for him.

Then, when Twilight Dad met Yor and pulled the grenade pin to blow people up, Richie would present the ring.

He would witness that iconic scene firsthand: a romantic proposal amid explosions.

The thought got Richie excited. He needed to plan carefully and make absolutely sure the real diamond ring didn't get lost.

He lay on the sofa, muffling his doting chuckles. Luckily, the sound of Anya's television covered his laughter, keeping Twilight from noticing him.

Facing Mophead, Twilight Dad spoke without a trace of emotion on his wooden face. "I'd like to minimize the risks as much as possible."

"What are you talking about? Those two kids are the real risk! They don't look remotely like children from a distinguished family, you know." Twilight had barely finished before Mophead jumped in.

Out of the corner of his eye, Richie saw Anya in front of the television, so excited she was about to jump up.

Then he looked at himself, sprawled on the sofa like a corpse without a shred of decorum.

Mophead seemed to have a point. They really didn't look anything like children from a distinguished family.

Hearing the mockery in Mophead's words, Richie hurriedly drew his legs together and placed his hands on his abdomen, lying neatly like a corpse in a morgue.

"Fair point. We'll have to do something about appearances, at least." Looking at the two children gave Twilight a headache, and he pressed a hand to his forehead.

Mophead pointed at Richie. "Still, this son of yours seems pretty steady and mature. You could focus on him."

Twilight shook his head. "Richie isn't steady and mature. He just doesn't want to move."

"If Richie can lie down, he won't sit. If he can sit, he won't stand. He lazes around all day and isn't interested in anything. He's a meter tall, and every inch of that meter is rebellious. He's harder to mold than Anya."

Mophead rubbed his chin. "So that's how it is!"

Upon hearing Twilight's words, Richie instantly abandoned his orderly sleeping posture and sprawled out again.

So Twilight Dad had seen right through him all along!!!