I read it again with my lips gathered. 'They're sending me a reporter?'

It was a little strange to me, who had only been receiving emails online since I first got 12 Hours After. I would meet someone offline!

'Crow? Is the reporter a crow? Does he fly over to me and give something? I didn't think so. The Customer Service said, "Our reporter is a very competent person."

'Then... this Crow... is it some sort of nickname?'

I looked a little more down.

[Please specify the place and time to meet.]

The cursor glittered down. I didn't think much and I tried to write, 'Invictus Investment Headquarters. President's Office.' But I took my hands off the keyboard, stroked my chin, and looked at it.

'This guy's from 12 hours After... I'll keep him as secret as I can... like the email 12 hours After.' I thought for a moment, and then I wrote something down on it.--------

At 10:30 a.m. I left the president's office.

Secretary Seo asked me, "Are you going out? Do you want me to help you?"

I shook my head, "No, it's personal."

"Oh, okay."

I went to the underground parking lot alone and drove a Porsche west. After passing Banpo Station and Express Bus Terminal Station, I stopped at the National Library. I parked at the side of the road and went up on the hill next to me. Under the hot, sweaty August heat, I arrived at Montmartre Park. I settled on a shaded bench and looked at the clock.

10:55 a.m. It was just five minutes until the appointment.

I looked around. There were few people in the park in broad daylight, except for some of the residents who were taking their dogs for a walk. There was no chance of me encountering someone I knew here. When the Crow came, we would talk and part like strangers in the movie "Mission Impossible," like the cool spies who hid each other's identity.

I sat on a bench and recalled a scene from the movie. After a moment, a black figure began to approach in the distance, and I had to give up such expectations. 'What's that...?' I could see a tall man walking toward me, wearing a black suit and a black overcoat. The coat was made of some materials, its surface covered with irregular fur. The word that came to my mind when I saw him was "Crocodile."

Good. The concept was right. But the problem was that it was in the middle of a heat wave that was over thirty-five degrees. I was about to die in a half-sleeve right now, but the man was in a full suit and black overcoat.

One woman who was taking her dog for a walk saw him and said, "Minky. Don't go that way. Let's go home. Let's go. Quickly." She caught up the leash. The dog leapt up and down in surprise.

I stood firm for a moment and watched him. 'No, no way...' The moment our eyes met.

He was tall, about 190cm. His skin was white and his face was odd. The eyes were black and long like Asians, and his nose was high and big just like Europeans. Up and down, his lips resembled those of Africans.

'What, is he a mixed-blood person?' Thinking that far, I suddenly felt fear beyond the sense of wonder. A mixed-blood foreigner in this heat was dangerous. I tried to leave, but as soon as I got up from the bench, he said in a deep, low voice, "Is this Han Sang-hoon?"

I spoke to him, not trying to leave, "... yes."

Then, as if he were a medieval knight, he said, kneeling before me on one knee, "Hello, I am Crow. I've been ordered to be the servant of Hang Sang-hoon from today on."

His manner was excellent. I put my fists on my head. It was the picture I had seen in the spy movie.

'Is this Crow?'

'Are you Han Sang-hoon?'

'All right, let's start the story.'

--------

Sitting side by side on a bench, looking into the air, my idea of having a private conversation with him was completely shattered.

I didn't have the confidence to look around, but at the same time, I was sure everyone would be watching me like, 'What the hell are those crazy people?'

'If I had known this would happen, I should have asked him to meet me at 4 a.m.' I spoke to him with my hands on the brow, "Yes, nice to meet you. Please sit down."

I offered him a seat next to me, and he just sat right next to me. The hairs surrounding his coat touched my skin. Apart from being hot, this was like we were mad coworkers. I gestured and pushed him to the edge of the bench.

"Sit a little bit far away, all the way to the edge."

"Yes." Fortunately, he followed me well. "Master." He even used the title of master.

'Oh, my God, is he a madman from another dimension?' I glanced at him, thinking that in my mind.

He was staring at me hard. I said, gesturing forward this time, "Look up ahead. Don't look at me."

"Yes, master." He turned his eyes forward.

Now, there was a painting I wanted. I, like him, turned my eyes forward and said, "Okay, let's talk like this."

"If the master wants it..."

Now, the word "master" kept bothering me.

"And... instead of the master... please call me boss."

"Yes, boss."

'All right. He's a good listener.' This was good. He corrected himself right away.

I spoke to him without turning my eyes, as if speaking to myself from afar, "Isn't it hot?"

"It's very hot."

"By the way, why are you wearing such a coat?"

"This is our basic dress, boss."

"Who's chosen that basic outfit?"

"My boss." He must have a boss.

"... That boss is a strange man..."

He spoke in a very obtuse way, "Yes, I think so."

"What's the boss doing?"

"He's in charge of us."

"We...?"

"Crows." Crow seemed to mean group rather than name.

"Are there any more crows besides you?"

"Yes."

I asked in amazement. "Are you saying that there are more people in action now in this world?" In this question, there was a nuance, 'There's another madman like you?'

But he continued to speak in an obtuse tone, "I'm the only one in this world who's ever been sent."

"This world?"

"Yes."

There was a conversation going to Andromeda. I remembered the conversation I'd had with the Customer Service. I knew from experience that this question was pointless to pursue. I turned the subject around.

"The... about the basic dress, if I told you not to wear it, you might not wear it, right?"

"Yes, of course, sir."

"Then... ...next time, don't wear that coat. Just wear a suit."

"Yes, sir."

I glanced at him, and he was looking forward, not even giving me a glance, as I commanded.

'Isn't this a person? Really? Is he a robot?' At the moment, he took a white handkerchief from his coat and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"That... If it's hot, take it off. That coat."

"Yes, sir."

"Umm... that shirt, too."

"Yes, boss." He took off his coat and shirt and put them on the bench.

Looking closely, it was the feathers of a bird hanging on his coat, a crow's feathers. I thought I had taken the wrong skill.

'Can this slightly broken robot investigate something well? I'd rather get the news 12 Years After and plan a long-term corporate investment.' I asked him, thinking about it, "Are you a reporter?"

"Yes. A reporter, that's what they call me in the world. When I am paid for, I do the work of providing information, Boss."

"Price? What's the price?"

"That's a secret." This guy also used the same words. I thought it had something to do with Customer Service.

"... that's what I'm paying for?"

"No. It's the employer's responsibility. I understand you're already paying a large subscription fee to our employer."

The employer was like the side sending emails, including Customer Service.

"Well, yes..." I muttered to myself.

Then he said, "Yes, boss." That was how he took my words to himself. He was very polite.

'If I say, "Go ahead and do three back-dumblings and push-ups at the handstand a hundred times," he will at least try.

'I like that point... but I wonder if he'll do a good job of investigating…'

I asked him, "Do you know about stocks or the economy?"

"What are you asking..."

"If I ask you to find out what a company's performance this quarter is like..."

To my question, he spoke in a confident voice, "Of course. I'm competent." That was what the Customer Service said, and he said that he was capable of it.

I looked around from here. Everyone who was going to run away in amazement earlier had run away, and the newcomers were just walking around the park in a free and easy way. Now we looked like just an ordinary businessman and a tall foreigner.

I spoke to him, "Well, then, I'll ask you this: During the recent Bisang Construction scandal and stock price manipulation, who ordered the stock price manipulation; how did they launder the money and spend it on stock price manipulation; is there any evidence of collusion with the president of Bisang Construction, Jung Gi-woong; how was reporter Kang Joo-hyuk killed, and how are they related to the delisting of Go-Young Food. Please investigate all the information about them."

I said this and looked at him slightly, wondering if there was any chance he would say, 'There are so many things you want at once.' So I added a word after putting it together. "In a word, I want you to investigate everything about this Bisang Construction and the stock price manipulation case." I looked at him.

He told me without turning his eyes to me, "Is that your request this month?" He was serious.

I turned my eyes forward again and said, "Yes. Please organize the details and let me know."

"Yes, boss." The answer was refreshing.

I didn't know what the result would be. For a moment, silence ensued, and I asked him in a vague question. "By the way, how the hell can you tell me about the findings? By email or do we meet again like this?"

By the way, there was no answer coming back. I looked sideways, but he was gone. The coat on the bench was gone, too.

'What is it?' I looked around the park. I couldn't see the black clothes.

'I only looked away for a few seconds... How come...?' It was like a scene from a spy movie. I looked around for a moment as if possessed by a ghost, and finally gave up.

'He appeared briefly and then vanished... well… I'll have to ask Customer Service.'

I stood up thinking about it. Now I saw a black feather left on the spot where his coat had been placed. I lifted the black feather of a crow. I thought of the name while touching it with my hands.

'Crow...'