Chapter 10: Chapter 10: The Tsundere Director
Morning sunlight streamed into the museum, casting a golden glow that made the grand hall look almost majestic.
The once-rowdy displays, creatures, statues, and historic figures that had come to life the night before, now stood silently in their designated glass cases. Not a twitch, not a whisper. Everything was perfectly still.
The trash and chaos from the night's madness? Completely cleaned up. The place looked brand new.
Silence ruled the halls of the museum, except in one corner...
"E = mc²!"
"Einstein!"
"Correct!"
"YES!"
"Comedian. Famous quote: 'In case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!'"
"Jim Carrey!"
"Correct!"
Rango flashed a smug grin at Ted before turning to Megan, waiting for the next question.
"Who wore the greatest No. 23 jersey in NBA history?"
"Michael Jordan! Boom!"
With that final question answered, Rango jumped up from his seat, arms wide like a champion. "Twelve outta twelve! I am the king of word games! Get ready to wash my underwear for a month, Ted!"
"Fuck!" Ted groaned. "This isn't fair! You get questions about Jordan and Jim Carrey, I get stuck with crap like... Zhou Shuren?!"
"Hey, show some respect," Rango said with mock sternness. "That man is a legendary writer from the East!"
"Okay, fine… Just wipe your ass clean from now on and don't crap on your undies."
While Ted was still sulking, Megan suddenly chimed in, her voice calm and precise. "Actually, Rango, you got the last answer wrong. According to my internal database, the greatest No. 23 jersey belongs to LeBron James."
(AN: Of course, she will be called Megan from now on.)
"What the hell? LeBron?!" Rango looked like she just insulted his family. "No way. Greatest? The guy's never even won a championship without a stacked team!"
"Exactly!" Ted nodded vigorously. "He's strong, sure, but not great. I mean, come on, he's not even better than Kobe."
"The guy who programmed you was clearly a LeBron James," Rango muttered. "Damn biased developers sneaking in their personal takes!"
With that buzzkill dropped by Megan, Rango lost interest in continuing the game. He and Ted naturally transitioned into debating the eternal topic: Kobe vs LeBron, one-on-one.
Minutes ticked by, and then—
Click-clack.
The sound of polished shoes echoed across the lobby as the museum's revolving doors opened.
Striding in was the director, impeccably dressed, cane in hand, walking with flair like he owned the Louvre.
"Well, well, well…"
He gave the room a thorough scan, then called out cheerfully toward the front desk, "So, gentlemen, did we sleep well last night?"
Rango stood and answered with a bright smile, "You're joking, right? Ted and I stayed on watch all night. Didn't even have time for bathroom breaks, let alone naps."
"Let's hope so."
The director shrugged ambiguously and made his way to the front desk. His eyes landed on Rango, scanning him up and down, and he clearly liked what he saw.
The standard-issue security uniform, usually baggy and unimpressive on most, clung snugly to Rango's muscular frame, showing off every curve of his well-toned body. Combined with his chiseled jawline and rugged good looks, the guy looked less like a night guard and more like a fashion model hired to promote the museum.
And all this for just twenty bucks an hour, no dental, no benefits. Bargain of the century.
Feeling smug about his savvy hiring decision, the director gave Rango a friendly pat on the shoulder, nodded graciously to Ted, and strutted off toward his office with all the pomp of royalty.
Just as the museum director was walking past Megan, he suddenly froze.
"What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, frowning. "Doesn't the security manual clearly state that no unauthorized individuals are allowed in the museum after hours?"
Rango followed the plan he'd prepared and calmly explained, "You've got it wrong, sir. This is my little sister. She just stopped by this morning to bring me breakfast."
"Breakfast?" The director narrowed his eyes. "Isn't it a bit much to have a girl this young delivering food before sunrise?"
"She's always been very thoughtful," Rango said, nodding earnestly.
The director glanced skeptically at Megan, who stood quietly with her head lowered. Fortunately, she looked young enough to pass as a kid. If it had been an adult woman, he might've assumed Rango had been up to something very different last night.
As he was about to walk away, Rango suddenly stepped in front of him, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Actually, Director, there's one more thing I'd like to talk to you about."
"If it's a raise, don't even bother," the director huffed, tapping his cane. "Twenty dollars an hour is more than fair. Go look around, regular guards make thirteen! And you've only been here for a day. Asking for more already is absurd!"
"Huh?" Rango blinked, then chuckled. "Trust me, I'm good with the pay. That's not what I wanted to discuss."
He pointed toward a pile of debris in the corner, the result of Megan working overnight to clean things up.
"What the hell?!"
The director, who had just started to ease up, exploded again when he saw the damage. "I hired you to guard the museum, not destroy it!"
Gone was his poised, gentlemanly demeanor. He stormed over to the wreckage, eyes going wide with fury as he examined the shattered models.
"These were hand-crafted! Every piece worth thousands of dollars! What the hell did you do to them?!"
"I'm really sorry," Rango said sincerely. "I was just curious about how the models felt. I opened a case to take a closer look, and well... one thing led to another."
He straightened up, eyes steady. "But don't worry, I'll pay for the damages. Just tell me the amount. Whatever it is, I'll make it right."
The director scowled, clearly about to spit out a hefty number. But then, over Rango's shoulder, he caught sight of Megan by the front desk, still quiet, still looking small and innocent.
He paused.
That outfit Rango wore during his interview probably hadn't been cheap. And now he had his little sister bringing him food before dawn? This guy clearly wasn't living the good life.
If he forced him to pay for the damage on top of everything else...
This family's already struggling. I'd just be kicking them while they're down.
After running through the full drama in his head, the director took a deep breath and shot Rango one last, irritated look.
"Save your money for your sister's education," he snapped, turning away. "I'll write it off as wear and tear. Now go home, both of you. I don't want to see your face again today!"
"..."
Rango watched him disappear down the hall, completely baffled. He'd already pulled out his checkbook, but now stood there scratching his head.
"Why does everyone assume I'm broke?"
With a shrug toward Ted and Megan, Rango undid the top button of his shirt and rolled his neck.
"Let's go. Shift's over. Time to head home!"
A few minutes later, standing just outside the museum under the brightening sky, a grin slowly crept across Rango's face.
It was time to check out the haunted house he bought yesterday.
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