Iverson: Go! Turn on the emergency light and go check the circuit!
Security Guard: Copy that!
Pickles: Woof woof.
A spotlight casts down from the ceiling and focuses on the brightest place—the showcase of the Rimet Cup.
Iverson: You moron! What're you doing! This is not the emergency light!
Security Guard: No, no, that wasn't me. The cup! The cup is missing!
Security Guard: No, no, that wasn't me. The cup! The cup is missing!
Flawless protection is just a disguise, while threatening is the essence.
In such a dull and dreadful exhibition hall ...
Does anyone still remember ...
Those stories full of imagination and miracles?
All the lights shine on the glass showcase. She holds the Rimet Cup, just like hugging a long-lost friend.
Nobody notices that the name tag for the Rimet Cup has disappeared from the showcase.
Young Visitor: Whoa! Someone is in the case!
Journalist: She … she holds the Rimet Cup?! How did she get in there!
Melania: Yes. It's finally back now, back to Ramirez.
Journalist: Ramirez? Hahh! The company that forged the Rimet Cup and went bankrupt!
Iverson: You are …
Melania: Oh, it's been a long time.
Melania: The leader of New Humans, the witness to the events that year, and the lucky man who finally retrieved the Rimet Cup—Mr. Iverson.
Melania: You know the story of the Rimet Cup better than anyone, don't you?
Iverson: Who are you?!
Melania: You were repelled by Ramirez's novelty and hated their surprising imagination and miracle stories one after another.
Melania: "Apparently, it is better to follow the rules, even if we fail. We'll have nothing to be blamed ..."
Melania: To bury that shining star, the peers jointly forged a Rimet Cup, and carefully schemed a security commission that was doomed to fail.
Iverson: Bollocks! You are a thief! You're not going to defame us!
Melania: Heh heh ...
Melania: The Ramirezs have a tradition of leaving arcane marks on each item for safekeeping.
Melania: The marks will be revealed with special cameras.
Melania: Yes. This is the real Rimet Cup that we have never protected before.
Melania: Now, I've finally found the truth.
Iverson: ...
Melania: Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me The Great Thief Acey.
Journalist: For heaven's sake! She is that thief who stole countless treasures!
Melania: Or, my real name, of course—
Melania: Melania Ramirez.
Security Guard: Mr. Iverson … what shall we do?
Iverson: Don't listen to her!
Iverson: Are you going to believe a thief?
Security Guard: But there's no article on guidance that we could follow to deal with a situation like this ...
Iverson: Fathead!
Iverson: Put her down, then everything will be fine!
Iverson: Guns ready!
Iverson stares at Melania like a demon. The veins on his arms burst. He furtively presses the almost imperceptible button on the remote control.
The backs of the robots fall off, unveiling the bloody black guns. They slowly move upwards, aiming for the highest spot.
Iverson: I thought I would never use these steel bullets.
He presses the button.
Melania: Looks like you guys made the worst choice.
Melania: Well, it's not surprising.
COMBAT
Iverson falls to the ground, dropping the remote control aside. It's like a period in the whole story.
Those "bullets" and tranquilizers flying towards Melania suddenly explode.
Melania: Oh, I forgot to tell you that some of the equipment carried by the robots have violated the Guidance on Security. So, I replaced them with safer firework bullets.
All people are drowned in the halo of the fireworks. The puppy dashes fearlessly towards Iverson's remote control.
Pickles: Woof! <Now!>
This is a parting gift after all the failures.
Melania: Eroj Exchange!
Melania: Sorry, but it's better to destroy the remote control that will place our security at risk as early as possible, okay?
She laughs, snaps her fingers, and disappears.
What remains is the exhibition name tag for the Rimet Cup, which appears again on the showcase.
Passerby: Wait! Look at that dog!
Wendy: Woof woof!
Passerby: No, not that one! Look at that border collie!
Passerby: He found us the Rimet Cup!!
Pickles: Woof? <Hmm?>