"Good, good," Ms. Pakpao patted Siren's head affectionately before turning her attention to Alex. With a flirtatious tilt of her chin, she bestowed upon him a suggestive look.

"Alex, this time I've prepared winged termite soup especially for you," she announced, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Despite the queasiness that churned in his stomach at the thought, Alex plastered on a smile that rivalled the sun breaking through storm clouds.

 "Of course, it's my honor," he responded graciously.

Pakpao rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek before bustling off to the kitchen, leaving Alex dumbfounded in her wake. 

"Did you see that? She just kissed my cheek," he exclaimed, still in disbelief.

Siren rolled her eyes in response. "I did," she confirmed dryly.

 Pakpao returned with the dish, a bowl of steaming winged termite soup. With a flourish, she placed it before Alex, the aroma wafting up enticingly.

Despite the revulsion churning in his stomach at the sight of winged termites floating in the murky broth, Alex summoned all his willpower to suppress the urge to retch.

 With a forced smile, he swallowed back the bile rising in his throat, determined to maintain his composure for the sake of what he claimed to be his budding romance.

Glancing sideways at Siren, he found her observing him with a challenging expression, her arms folded defiantly.

Feeling a surge of determination, Alex seized a spoonful of the repulsive soup, hesitating only briefly before forcing it down his throat, unwilling to assault his tongue.

Under the expectant gaze of Pakpao, Alex steeled himself for another spoonful. However, instead of immediately swallowing it, he inflated his cheeks, mustering the courage to feign enthusiasm. With a thumbs up gesture, he signaled his approval, hoping to appease his possible future lover.

Pakpao's face lit up with delight, and she leaned in to plant a kiss on his puffed cheeks before bustling back to the kitchen to attend to her duties.

All Alex could feel was the little mushy termites hitting the side of his inner cheeks. Seeing her leaving the table, he immediately rushed to the restroom and emptied his stomach content.

Meanwhile, at the table, Siren couldn't help but grin at the sight. "There it goes," she remarked, her amusement evident.

An hour later, Alex returned to the table, looking worse for wear. His complexion was ashen, his eyes bloodshot, and his hair disheveled from his ordeal. Taking his seat, he reached for the tissues to wipe his mouth, grateful when Siren handed him a bottle of water, which he eagerly gulped down in one go.

As he sat there, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that the coming week would be haunted by visions of winged termites dancing in his dreams.

Eager to put the unpleasant breakfast behind them, Alex urged Siren to leave the restaurant before Pakpao could subject him to another culinary ordeal, perhaps involving bamboo worms this time.

As the members of Squad 13 settled into their seats around the table, the chief, with a grave expression, took his place at the head.

"How much longer until he arrives?" the chief inquired, his tone brimming with impatience.

Johnny Wilhelm, the lankiest member of the squad, lounged in his chair, idly picking his teeth with toothpicks. With a nonchalant shrug, he replied, "Our boss is on vacation, Chief. You've interrupted his quality time with his wife. Count yourself lucky he's even considering your request."

Just then, the unmistakable sound of flip-flops echoed across the room, drawing everyone's attention. All eyes turned toward the source of the noise, where they beheld a man sauntering into the meeting room. Clad in a green aloha beach shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal a glimpse of his chiseled chest and the contours of his six-pack, paired with sandals and beach shorts. He exuded an aura of rugged charm, his chin adorned with a short stubble.

Perched jauntily atop his head was a bright yellow Mexican hat, its hue so vibrant it could blind onlookers, while a garland of Hawaiian flowers adorned his neck, adding a splash of color to his look. 

The chief stood there, momentarily speechless, while the members of Squad 13 barely reacted, as if they were used to it.

Approaching the chief, the man removed the garland from around his own neck and draped it ceremoniously around the chief's. Despite his stoic demeanor, the chief's lips tightened into a thin line.

"I put up with all this nonsense only because you happen to be good at solving cases. Otherwise, I would have transferred you to Africa long ago," the chief stated sternly.

The man, undeterred, flashed a grin. "Oh, come on, chief. You know you couldn't bear to part with me," he retorted playfully.

With a resigned sigh, the chief extended his hand to shake. "Welcome back, Daniel Smith".