"Ugh... I'm never getting in a car with you again!" Chris said, his legs a little shaky, as he held on to a trash can.
"Mmm, I believe you," Morin said, nodding seriously.
As for what he was thinking...
Of course he didn't believe it. Chris had said this more than five times before, and yet he still came to pick him up in his best car every time.
It was just like when readers say "next time for sure" to an author, but the author can only stare sadly at the pitiful number of votes.
(╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
In reality, even if Morin hadn't used his [Advanced Interdimensional Wrench] and [Advanced Automobile Master] abilities, Chris probably would have handed him the keys anyway.
That silver key wasn't some new universal key developed by the R&D department. The R&D department in this era wasn't that advanced yet.
In fact, it was the [Advanced Interdimensional Wrench] that had transformed!
Morin didn't know why the wrench had gained the ability to change its shape after being upgraded, but that didn't stop him from using it.
After using the [Advanced Automobile Master] ability to take control of the car, the information about the key naturally appeared in Morin's mind.
Then, by using the advanced wrench to change its shape, a "key" appeared.
He hadn't deliberately come up with some excuse to deceive Chris, because he knew that if he told him the truth in a slightly exaggerated way, Chris wouldn't believe it and would subconsciously ignore it.
Because it sounded like a joke.
People's subconscious minds filter out jokes to some extent. So, when countless truths are told in a joking manner, they won't be believed and will be subconsciously ignored.
This was even more true for people who were more serious and rigid, and it was especially true for Chris, the director of the IRS.
He had completely dismissed Morin's previous explanation as a boast and had naturally assumed that Morin's key came from the R&D department.
And now, after an epic urban race, Chris, whose head was spinning with flashing brake lights and who was feeling dizzy and nauseous, had completely forgotten about what had just happened.
His soul had only just caught up to him!
The sound of police sirens came closer, but it didn't make Morin or Chris tense up.
A few minutes later, a police car that had been left in the dust finally caught up to Morin, and even drove past them a bit before reversing.
The police car's engine was turned off, and two police officers got out.
They approached Morin and Chris, who was still holding the trash can and bracing himself for the next round of "stomach-clearing attacks," and showed their badges.
"You two..."
Before the police officers could finish, Morin showed them the ID he had already prepared.
"Gentlemen, can you read the words on here?"
"..." The police officers swallowed when they saw Morin's ID. "...We can."
"Then, do you know where we are?" Morin pointed to the tall building next to them.
"We... we know," the other police officer said. "The Langley Tax Office..."
"Wow, what a coincidence. I think my ID has one or two, or maybe three or four, words that are exactly the same as the ones on that building," Morin said, nodding with an exaggerated tone and a serious expression.
"Don't you think that's a very big coincidence?"
"Yes, yes..." both officers said, nodding like little chicks pecking at rice.
Realizing that something was wrong, the two police officers started to back away.
After they got to their patrol car, they quickly got in, started the engine, and sped away in a high gear.
The tires squealed as they spun on the pavement, leaving a trail of black marks!
"Tsk, tsk... I didn't expect a small town like Langley to have a hidden racing master," Morin said, clicking his tongue in admiration.
"That tire-burning start was professional!"
"Morin, we're a legal and professional department. We do very legitimate things."
Chris, who had successfully emptied the contents of his stomach into the trash can, was now in a weakened state. He held on to the car and walked over to Morin.
"Why do you always act like you're in a gang?"
"Come on, officer, the only difference between us and a gang is that we have an employment contract with the federal government,"
Morin said, mocking the power that IRS employees had.
"Not much of a difference."
"Hmm... you're right," Chris thought about it and was successfully convinced by Morin.
As the director of the IRS, he had a deeper understanding of the special privileges the IRS had.
The so-called legitimate tax company... was just a polished way of putting it.
When it came to tax issues, the IRS would reveal its terrifying fangs and claws.
Fangs and claws that were sharper and more ruthless than those of the FBI, CIA, and other intelligence agencies!
...
"These are the files you asked for. A large part of it would cause unnecessary trouble if it got out."
In the director's office, which had been commandeered, Chris showed Morin some documents.
"Of course, the really important stuff isn't in here, and some of it is faked... I remember you said your purpose was just to go to CIA headquarters, right?"
"Yes, just to go in and provide cover for someone inside. In reality, it doesn't matter much if I'm there or not. I think he can handle it himself, but... it's better to be safe," Morin said, nodding.
"After all, it's a big deal."
"It is. It involves a list of all CIA agents, and you're stealing it directly from CIA headquarters, and it's also about a ten-million-dollar deal!"
Chris became even more agitated, rubbing his head.
"By the way, you said... he could do it without you? Who is he? Who has that much skill? I thought you were the one who was going to do it!"
"If I were the one doing it, I wouldn't need this," Morin said, rolling his eyes, taking out the CD (this was before USB drives existed) from the computer.
"I told you, I'm just providing cover."
"You can actually do it?" Chris was shocked.
"Why not?" Morin asked back, putting the CD into his bag.
"But this time, since it's an internal matter for them, it's not a good idea for me to get too involved, to avoid things getting out of hand."
"After all, having an outsider break into headquarters and steal classified information is a completely different matter from having one of your own people do it..."
*****
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