[b]“Hee hee hee—so nice, Mista-Cop, treat Jun-He to nice lunch!”[/b]

His cheeks were stuffed as a swollen purse with Republic City’s cheapest cafeteria fare, sauce dribbling from the corner of his mouth. The sandwich had been a surprisingly easy bribe for a such hard man to find in the urban metropolis. The grubby teen could be quite a difficult person to actually pin down when you wanted to find him. At least he wasn’t difficult to catch—once food was promised, he’d practically led the way back to the police station. It wasn’t the first time he’d been taken there to report a situation he’d witnessed, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

With each half-masticated bite, the part-timer’s muddy eyes never left the police officer. [b]“So nice… oh, but Jun-He know what you up to, Mista-Cop.”[/b]

Surprise registered on the officer’s face for only a moment before he leaned forward. “Do you now? And what’s that?”

The boy kicked back in the chair, resting his boots on the edge of the table as his broad grin expanded to take up his whole face. He wiggled his toes through the holes in the tips to punctuate his theory. [b]“You try soften Jun-He up, make him feel good!”[/b]

“Is that so?”

[b]“Uh-huh. Then you make Jun-He like you, he trust you. You count on Jun-He, he count on you too. Get close, see more often. Talk more.”
[/b]

“All right, go on. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, Jun-He.”

[b]“Yes! Very-smart, Jun-He—oho, you give good food, but you no trick him! Jun-He know all.”[/b] Far from offended by what could have been taken as an insult, Jun-He’s chest swelled with pride. He popped the last bite in his mouth and gestured grandly, waving both his arms in the air. [b]“He see all! He hear all! You, Mista-Cop, you have [i]question?”[/i][/b]

The scrawny boy’s words hung in the air in a moment of silence before his fork slipped off his empty plate and clattered to the ground. “Ah. I’ll get it, one moment.” The police officer bent down to retrieve it, fingers groping blindly along the ground. He hadn’t expected the informant to be so blunt, to cut to the point so quickly. He’d been planning a smoother transition into the next stage of the investigation, but—

[b]“Is OK, Mista-Cop. Jun-He know what you want know.”[/b]

“Jun-He, I—” The policeman bumped his head on the bottom of the table and winced. “It’s somewhat of a delicate matter, legally, can we conduct this conversation somewhere more… private—”

[b]“NO!” [/b]The vehemence of the reply took the officer aback, but there was far more. Jun-He crossed his arms. [b]“Hah! He save you trouble. Jun-He know what Mista-Cops like you want, and he say—NO! Cannot marry Mista-Cop, what you thinking?!”[/b]

A pause. Shock. Dawning disbelief. 

The grubby teen’s face split again in an exaggerated smirk and a tittery giggle escaped him. He covered his mouth with one hand and flapped the other at his speechless “date”, suddenly very coy.[b] “Waah, you no look at Jun-He like that! Make him think, ‘oh, maybe-ok, maybe Mista-Cop be good wife for Jun-He afta all… bring home good-check, keep Jun-He safe…' but NO, cannot be! No-no-no! He too young, too potential, too…”[/b] He patted his own grimy cheeks, [b]“Too [i]beauty[/i] for being bride! Jun-He [i]no[/i] that kind of girl!”
[/b]

Normally, the expression on the face of a person’s conversation partner would clue them in when there had been a misunderstanding, but Jun-He should have gone to an eye doctor and gotten a heavy prescription ten years ago and facial nuances almost always escaped him. He ignored the officer’s horrified expression and prattled on instead, shrill tones getting louder and louder as the desperate policeman looked around himself, at a loss for what to do. [b]“Oh, you no first to offer to Jun-He—giving foods, giving moneys, wear ugly mask...he say NO!”[/b]

Amidst his horror, the policeman recognized the key piece of information he’d been looking for. “Wait, wearing masks? And these people offered you money to... were there other people your age there too?”

Jun-He threw his arms up in the air. [b]“Wah! Yes! But no-worry, Jun-He eat one and they only fake coin, metal taste all wrong.”[/b] He chomped on the end of the dirty fork to demonstrate and then waved it in the air to punctuate his next complaint. [b]“Hah, he think they make out of melting-can, tasting like soap! Anyway, Jun-He go home after-that, have dinner with Po—Po is friend, Jun-He have dinner with him every day always-always—eat tasty stew, full of fish. Hey, why you wanna know what Jun-He have for dinner Mista-Cop?!”[/b] He stopped, squinting suspiciously at the officer desperately taking notes.

“By Raava, Jun-He...this might be the key to exactly what we were looking for.” The policeman stood up, face flushed with excitement at the new intel. The masks, the trafficking, the coinage…it was too soon for someone like him to go making assumptions, but if they acted quickly they might just put a stop to something big before it could even begin. “You can go home now, that’s everything we needed. Thank you again!”

Alone again, the street rat pouted and folded his arms. [b]“They always love and leave Jun-He… waah…”[/b]

He wandered off to try and find a bathroom.