Take the Chance [RED SON] ☆COMPLETE☆

3 Ladies are Sharp

Tuesday 2:30AM

"Mother, what is this? You know I hate deciphering old, scribbled letters. This looks like nonsense!" he grumbled, glaring at the small paper as he squinted his eyes, trying to read the contents. There was a drawing too—well, maybe he would just assume it was a map his mother had drawn. A treasure hunt? He wasn't a kid anymore!

"Hush your tongue, Red Son. I just want you to buy a few things for me, of course. Also, it's up to you to figure that drawing out," his mother replied.

"Mother! This isn't a game!"

"Well, for me, it is!" Princess Iron Fan giggled, waving him off as if dismissing his glares and annoyed face. "Now, now, don't give me that look. Off you go, and be sure to return by seven," she grinned, patting her son.

The boy, however, looked at his mother with a confused expression. "Seven? Isn't that a bit long? Mother, Father might look for me again. You know how—"

She shushed him before he could finish. "Once again, I'll handle your father. As for you, just do your job. Now go, go!" She nodded, lightly pushing him.

Leaving the fortress and taking one of his vehicles, Red Son grumbled all the way down the road. Arriving in the city, he sighed and looked back at the paper his mother had given him.

Beauty products?

'You know what? Throw me into a fight with Nezha or a pile of mud, but buying this stuff?'

'Screw this. Let's make it quick and go back,' he thought, grabbing his umbrella. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time his mother had asked for such a thing. Usually, Princess Iron Fan took care of these errands herself. She was independent, though she understood the limits of her independence.

"Do girls need this much for their faces? Absurd," he mumbled, picking up a moisturizer and dropping it in the basket. As much as ladies liked to stay beautiful, he sometimes wondered—did they really need all this? Well, he wasn't a girl, so maybe he'd better stay quiet.

"Wow, that's a lot of stuff you bought. For your girlfriend?" the cashier asked, eyeing the items in the basket.

Red Son snarled. "It's for my MOTHER!" he snapped, his dark expression making the poor man flinch.

The cashier cleared his throat and stayed quiet, not asking any more questions. "Uh, here you go," he mumbled. Red Son left the shop with the bags in hand. Once outside, he huffed and tossed the bags into the back seat.

"Okay, what's next? This better be the last one," he mumbled, flipping the small paper over. He then hummed when he saw the map his mother had drawn.

Great. Now he was on a treasure hunt. Scribbled lines, boxes, and roads that made no sense—did his mother do this on purpose? Probably. She must have had so much faith in him to believe he could decipher this Sherlock Holmes-level puzzle.