The Old Man continued reading his newspaper. The little dog beside him raised its head, studying the two of them with its beady black eyes and sniffing at the air.
"How did you know I was F?"
The dog spoke, its face wearing an unnervingly human expression of suspicion.
"We naturally have our intelligence channels." The man smiled faintly, reserved yet polite. "Actually, I've always admired MIB's great cause, but across the ocean, this line of work got off to a later start."
"The fact that you found this place means you're no ordinary people. Do you have a letter of introduction from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, or any other official document to prove your identities?" F stood up from the doghouse, and the little blanket draped over it slid down, revealing that it too wore a tiny black suit.
"No." The man remained completely calm. He merely crouched down and opened his palm before the dog. "Look, I have no fingerprints. We're people who do not exist. Would a letter of introduction be of any use to people like us?"
Sure enough, his slightly pale palm was utterly smooth. The Men in Black only erased fingerprints, while this man did not even have palm prints.
At the sight of this, Agent F relaxed instead.
This had been a test from the start. If the other party had actually produced identification, that would have proved they were frauds.
They all dealt with alien affairs, and ordinary civilians could not be allowed to know about such matters. Naturally, every trace of their former existence had to be erased. Even the dog itself could not be found in any records.
"Don't wander around. I'll contact the BOSS now. Whether she sees you is up to her."
"Thank you." As if performing