I Became the Cute One in the Troubleshooter Squad

Inside an abandoned storefront nearby, shrouded in thick layers of dust from years of neglect, a perfect stage was set—for intimidation.

Even if someone screamed, the sound wouldn’t easily escape outside.

“You cowardly scum! Attacking while I wasn’t looking! No matter what you do, I will never speak! Torture me all you want—you’ll never hear a single word from me!”

Suspended upside down, the werewolf—tied securely and utterly subdued—shouted with fiery determination.

His eyes burned with resolve, as if no form of torment could break his vow of silence.

But his indignant rant only made him seem more absurd.

Raven, leaning casually against a wall, stared at him with an incredulous expression.

“Cowardly? You’ve got it backward, pal. You were the one sneaking around, watching us through the gap in that wall. What, you thought we wouldn’t notice?”

“Silence, human! Do not dare speak back to me!”

“…!”

My heart jumped with excitement at Raven’s signal.

I reached into a small bag and pulled out the ultimate tool for tormenting a werewolf—a lemon.

A lemon? Really? That’s just a fruit, you might say.

Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. For canines, with their heightened sense of smell, lemons are a nightmarish weapon.

And werewolves, with their similarly acute noses, aren’t any different.

Taking a small knife Raven handed me, I sliced the lemon in half.

With a firm grip, I squeezed the juicy half close to the werewolf’s sensitive nose.

“ARRRGHHH! STOP! STOP THIS AT ONCE!”

“That’s enough,” Raven said, signaling me to stop.

I pulled back, holding the dripping lemon triumphantly.

The werewolf hung limply, saliva dripping from his mouth—not out of hunger, but from the overwhelming sour scent wreaking havoc on his senses.

Now sufficiently “softened up,” the werewolf glared at us through tear-streaked eyes.

Raven leaned forward, his tone calm but commanding.

“Alright, let’s try this again. What’s your reason for hiding in this city? Are you some kind of scout guarding this area?”

“Pah! How dare you! I am Sergeant Brellen of the glorious Werewolf Battalion! A mere watchdog, you say? Absurd!”

“Hmm, Sergeant Brellen, is it?” Raven mused, his expression amused.

“Wha—?! How do you know my name?! I never said it!”

Did he just out himself? Seriously?

I rubbed my temples, watching this trainwreck of a werewolf.

Werewolves weren’t known for being intellectuals, but Brellen’s performance was so absurd it bordered on tragic comedy.

Maybe the lemon torture melted his brain a little.

Brellen, still upside down, continued his tirade.

“This can only mean one thing—there’s a traitor leaking our secrets! But who?! There’s no way a human could know my identity otherwise!”

“Hmm, interesting,” Raven said, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

Feigning authority, he pressed on.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We’ve already planted a spy among your ranks. That’s how we found you so easily.”

“WHAT?! A SPY?!” Brellen’s eyes widened in sheer panic.

His frantic reaction was almost embarrassing.

Raven delivered the next line with smooth precision, like a fisherman reeling in his catch.

“You’ve got a new recruit in your group recently, haven’t you?”

“New recruit? Ah! You mean the one who joined a decade ago?!”

“…No, not a soldier. Someone lower in the ranks—like your logistics team. Surely, the spy couldn’t be a proper werewolf. Too conspicuous.”

“Wait… could it be? The dark elves! Those sinister bastards from the restructuring! I knew we couldn’t trust them!”

This guy’s spilling everything, I thought, baffled.

Raven poked, and Brellen answered like a broken vending machine, dishing out every detail with no hesitation.

The werewolf didn’t seem to realize he’d fallen right into Raven’s trap.

Thanks to Brellen’s loose tongue, I quickly pieced together the bigger picture.

A group that’s over ten years old, involving a werewolf battalion and dark elves?

This has to be the Non-Human Liberation Army.

I stiffened at the realization.

The Non-Human Liberation Army was a notorious villain group in the early arcs of Fixer.

Their goal was simple yet extreme: to overthrow humanity and establish non-humans as the ruling class of Earth.

They were responsible for much of the tension between humans and non-humans, both in the story and the world at large.

Though they’d lost momentum during the Invader War a decade ago, they’d secretly been rebuilding ever since.

Now, their resurgence was a central conflict in Fixer.

If they’re involved, things just get way more complicated.

This group wasn’t one to take lightly. If they were chasing Greg, it was likely to either recruit or eliminate him.

With the scale of the situation clear, I instinctively adopted a defensive stance.

Raven, too, had picked up on the weight of Brellen’s confession.

His expression remained neutral, betraying no sign of the calculations undoubtedly racing through his mind.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Raven finally stepped forward.

In one swift motion, he struck the back of Brellen’s neck with a precise hand chop.

The werewolf crumpled instantly, unconscious before he hit the ground.

“Sweet dreams. You’ll wake up in a police station. Whatever happens after that? Not my problem.”

“…!”

I stared, impressed.

So hand chops actually work?

In reality, I’d always heard they were impractical, but Raven made it look so effortless.

I should practice that.

Satisfied with the interrogation, Raven crossed his arms and muttered grimly.

“The Non-Human Liberation Army, huh…? Looks like Greg’s tangled up with some serious trouble.”

That was putting it mildly.

This group’s radical ideology and willingness to use violence made them a nightmare to deal with.

If they’d set their sights on Greg, a fight seemed inevitable.

As Raven’s sharp gaze landed on me, I could almost hear what he was thinking.

Stay out of this—it’s going to get dangerous.

But I wasn’t backing down.

“…!”

I stepped forward defiantly, making it clear I had no intention of leaving.

If Raven wanted me to stop, he’d have to physically remove me.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? As a Fixer, I can’t take you with me.”

“….”

“So stay put and wait. I’ll bring Greg back without a scratch. If you’ve got a problem with that… try fighting me. But as long as I’m conscious, it’s not happening.”

The sheer weight of his presence crashed over me, like a tidal wave.

Raven wasn’t just strong—he was strength itself, a force of nature that couldn’t be denied.

My knees wobbled under the pressure.

I want to go, but… Greg needs Raven more than he needs me right now.

Reluctantly, I let my arms fall limp at my sides.

Seeing my surrender, Raven relaxed his stance.

“…Sorry. I promise, I’ll bring him back. Just hang tight for now.”

His hand briefly ruffled my hair—a gesture meant to comfort—but it only made my chest ache.

Then he turned and walked away without hesitation, leaving me alone in the dusty shadows.

I could help. I know I could…

I sank to the ground, feeling utterly useless.

For a moment, tears pricked my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away.

[ Mama…? ]

‘I’m okay. Thanks, Tesseract.’

Sighing, I leaned against the wall and stared at the ground.

Maybe I should just throw on a sheet and sneak out like the old days.

But without a clear plan, it’d be reckless.

Suddenly, ding!

The familiar sound of a notification snapped me from my thoughts.

I pulled out Echo from my pocket and checked the screen.

The email made my heart race.

[ Raven, here’s the decoded coordinates you asked for. Your target is likely here, with the Liberation Army nearby… ]

It was from David.

He must’ve accidentally sent it to me instead of Raven.

Lucky me.

I grinned, adrenaline surging.

If Raven thought I’d sit still after this, he didn’t know me very well.

Quickly spotting a discarded sheet nearby, I wrapped it around myself.

It’s time for the Ghost to return.