[A/N: I have to admit that this chapter is a bit... cliché. Please proceed at your own risk.]

...

Then an old man with a bald head in his 60s walked out slowly from the hallway to the entrance where stood the three people.

His height was around 170 cm, equal to Owen's. His body build was a bit stout. If he was the same age as Owen, they should look like one another like two brothers. His face looked calm, not expressing any emotion; his attitude and demeanor were relatively obscure.

He also looked somewhat mysterious but clearly different from Jeremy's mysteriousness.

If one had to describe, Jeremy looked mysterious from his very own being. Meanwhile, the old man looked just like someone who pretended to be mysterious.

Maybe, he didn't want other people to guess his action and intention correctly. That's why he tried to keep everything a secret.

That's also the reason why he looked pretentious when compared to Jeremy.

But if one had to say, he had successfully accomplished his goal of keeping everything a secret from other's prying eyes.

It was very hard to guess his intentions by solely observing him superficially.

'Hmm... What is Owen's grandpa doing here? Why he doesn't just wait inside. Well... Whatever...'

Jeremy thought to himself after realizing that it was Owen's grandpa who had interrupted them. So, he decided to wait and see the situation first.

Soon, the old man reached beside Jeremy and stood there while looking at the guards curiously, waiting for the guards to speak.

"In consequence of some complaints stating about an unknown 'explosion' from this house's area, we've come here to request for a simple inspection, sir."

After seeing that the opposite side was an old man, the same guard on the left decided to reply respectfully to him, Owen's grandpa, Marcel.

"I see..." Marcel replied.

Then he put his hand inside his right pants pocket and pull out his wallet. Afterward, he brought out a card with a picture of him placed on it and gave it to the guard on the left.

When the guard received the card and saw its content, his eyes went wide in astonishment.

Seeing that his superior was in shock from seeing the card, the guard on the right also took a peek at the card in his superior's hand.

Right after that, he almost got a heart attack from seeing the significance of the card.

Because...

It was actually a 'CIA identification card'!!

If the card was authentic, then the old man in front of them was a genuine secret agent like Jason Bourne in the movie.

After seeing the card, the guard on the right suddenly got excited. It seemed like he was a hardcore fan of spy movies.

"Boss! Let me see the card; I have a way to check its authenticity from the government's website!"

The man urged his boss excitedly...

After shaking his head slightly in disappointment, the left guard gave his subordinate the identification card and then waited for the authentication processes to be done.

Meanwhile, Jeremy, who was observing the unfolding situations calmly from the side, raised one of his eyebrows in wonder.

'What? He is a CIA agent... That's unexpected from someone who is only half a step away from his grave. Maybe, he is already retired, but he somehow should have a way to retain the card... An honorable agent? But... is it really okay to flaunt his card like this?'

Jeremy was thinking of many possibilities. Never in his wildest dream would he have thought that Owen's grandpa was a CIA agent.

'I've never asked Owen about him anyway. Well... This may be good with this situation, and it may lessen the nuisan...' historical

"Wow!! It's real!! BOSS! He is the real deal... Furthermore, he is an 'executive' of the analysis department. His rank is the third highest rank of the freakin' CIA!"

The sudden outburst from the guard on the right interrupted Jeremy's thoughts.

It was not exaggerated at all to call it an 'outburst'. Right now, nasty saliva and the hot breath of the man were spewing incessantly to the surroundings.

Jeremy and Marcel took a step back to avoid the man's saliva.

Meanwhile, the man's boss was even more disappointed at his subordinate's behaviors. He was shaking his head in frustration.

"Alright, Joe, calm down. You are trying to embarrass us."

The guard on the left spoke to calm the man down.

With a sudden look of realization, the excited and red-faced guard on the right settled down his fervor for quite a degree.

However, his eyes were still radiating zealous passion.

"Sa.. Sir... Sir Marcel. Ma... May I shake... your hand?"

The zealous guard requested Marcel, who was now around four steps away from him, for a handshake.

Marcel, who had rarely seen behavior like this, got a bit stunned at his request. In his opinion, he was not a superstar or something.

He was just a retired CIA officer...

But with just having a handshake with the guard, he wouldn't lose anything. So, he agreed with the request.

"Why not? It's nice to meet you. I'm Marcel Steelman, a retired paper worker of CIA."

Marcel walked back to his original position and shook hands with the guard.

"Hi!! I'm Joe. Everyone calls me Average Joe. This... This is my first time seeing a real spy. It's my greatest pleasure to meet you. I'm feeling very honored to shake hands with you, sir!!"

The guard introduced himself and shook hands with Marcel.

"Well, I'm not a spy, though..."

Marcel replied back while shaking his hand with the man.

But...

Three seconds passed...

Five seconds passed...

Ten seconds passed...

They continued the handshake with no sign of stopping.

The reason for that was from the guard; he didn't let Marcel's hand go...

Concurrently, Marcel was smiling awkwardly at the guard in front of him.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Ahem!!"

There came the sound of coughing from the guard on the left.

The guard couldn't bear it anymore. He decided to interrupt his subordinate from sinking them deeper into the sea of embarrassment.

When the right guard had heard the sound, he finally reluctantly let go of Marcel's hand.

"My apology, sir Marcel. My subordinate cannot contain his excitement after meeting with you."

The left guard said apologetically to Marcel.

Right after, not wanting to prolong the awkward status quo, he asked Marcel formally, "Well, sir Marcel. Do you mind if I ask you something?".

Hearing that, Marcel simply replied, "Sure, go ahead."

"The sound that had happened here since almost half an hour ago is it from something dangerous? And is there any need for evacuation?" With a hint of nervousness in his voice, the left guard asked further.

"It's not something dangerous, lad. I can assure you that. As for evacuation, there is no need. Anything else?"

Having heard the obscure reply from Marcel, the left guard was left stumped for words.

'Sigh... It can't be helped. I cannot force an inspection on this house with a guarantee from a CIA officer anyway.'

With an internal sigh of dejection, the left guard spoke.

"Okay, I believe in your words, sir Marcel. But please don't make too much noise next time because it might scare the people around here. As a result, I may have to come here again because I need to ensure that no harm or insecurity befall those people. Please understand me."

"If you don't mind us, we will go off continue doing our duty then. So... Goodbye, sir Marcel and mister Lakota."

With a military salute, the left guard then dragged his subordinate from there.

However...

"Wait!! Where are you going?"

Marcel's voice stopped them in their track before they could even walk three steps away from the entrance.

"Do you need anything else, sir?"

With a curious face, the left guard turned around and asked politely.

"No, not you. I mean him..."

Marcel replied to him while pointing his right index finger at 'Average Joe', who had remained quiet for quite some time to suppress his excitement about meeting with a real-life spy.

"What? Me?"

With a startled facial expression, the man in question was taken aback and said with a somewhat frightened tone.

"My card..."

Marcel gestured his head at the card that was being clutched tightly in Joe's left hand.

"Oh, I see, hehe. I almost forget to return this card to you, sorry, sir."

With a sudden realization, he hurriedly walked back to returned the card to Marcel.

'Almost, my ass.' Marcel lightly cursed in his mind and then put the card back inside his wallet.

Afterward, the guards quickly left the area of Jeremy's house; of course, with the disappointed expressions of the left guard, who was clearly expressing his dissatisfaction about his subordinate's performance today.

After seeing that those two had finally left, Jeremy and Marcel walked back into the house.

"Is it okay to flaunt your card like that, old man?" While walking, Jeremy suddenly asked Marcel.

"..."

After reminiscing a bit about something, with a bitter smile on his face, Marcel said...

"Well, the world is ending anyway. If the things you said are all true, this card of mine will be just a piece of insignificant trash soon..."

Just like that, they continued their walk into the house...

However, while they were walking back inside, they were left speechless with the many heads poking out from the hallway's sides.

Those heads appeared like mushrooms growing on tree bark.

When those people inside realized that they got found out by Jeremy and Marcel, they hastily pulled their heads back.

Not long after, the two came back inside the living room with the same watchful eyes of those peeping people.

As a result, Marcel was bombarded with countless questions from everyone about his past career. Especially from Charlotte, who interrogated excitedly about Marcel's past deeds.

"Woahhh!! Did you use to be a spy? How come Owen has never told me?"

"What did you do when you work at CIA?"

"Why did you look no different than a normal person?"

"Have you ever killed people?"

"Can you show me the card?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

'Sigh... it must be a long night for me.'

Jeremy thought annoyingly to himself while sitting down on the sofa.

'Or should I chase them away?'

There was also another idea of chasing them away within his mind.

'Nah... just let them be this once.'

Alas, he eventually succumbed to this rare occasion.