"YAH!!!"
The sound came from behind us—sharp, furious, and loud enough to scare away nearby pigeons, stray cats, and possibly my soul.
I peeked out from behind Mr. Jeon's broad, unmoving back recognising the voice.
There she was. My 5-foot guardian angel. The neighborhood savior. The justice warrior.
Yuna.
And oh boy, she looked ready for battle.
I looked up at Mr. Jeon, who didn't even flinch. Not even a millimeter. The man was a literal statue—like someone had glued him to the hood of his expensive car.
Meanwhile, Yuna's expression went from anger to utter disbelief. You could almost see the steam forming above her head like a cartoon kettle about to explode.
"YAH!!!!!" she yelled again, this time loud enough to awaken ancient ancestors.
Before I could even blink, she removed her slipper— the deadliest weapon known to humanity— and launched it straight at Mr. Jeon's back.
SMACK.
He paused. Blinked. Slowly turned around like a villain in a slow-motion action scene.
