Gin's eyes were closed when the shots were fired.
Along with the first shot, his cell phone vibrated.
He opens his eyes, listens to the distant second shot, and checks for a new message: [Shot fired.]
The cell phone vibrates again: [But not dead.]
[Shot fired.]
It was from Vodka, who was using a telescope to observe the somewhat special newcomer performing his mission in the distance.
Another new message: [...But not dead...]
Gin: "?"
The newcomer shot the target twice, but the target didn't die?
Why not?
A third shot rings out in the distance, like the sound effect of an answer.
As Gin's mind spins and the answer emerges, so does the new text message: [He's torturing the target.]
[The first shot was aimed at the target's left hand where the gun had been held, the second shot was aimed at the target's abdomen.]
Another message came hurriedly: [The target was shot in the forehead, and the newcomer has evacuated.]
Gin replied: [Go check vital signs.]
He put down his cell phone, glanced at the car not far away, estimated the distance was still safe, then lit a cigarette and waited silently in the darkness for the footsteps to arrive.
A few moments later, footsteps sounded.
For some reason, Gin suddenly had a bad feeling.
He subconsciously bit down on his cigarette and took a glance at the bomb truck not far away before looking in the direction of the footsteps.
In the darkness, a slender silhouette appeared, and the first thing that stepped into the alley was half a black sneaker.
Next was the corner of a sweatshirt, and then the whole person.
The newcomer seemed to be in a good mood, smiled at Gin, walked quickly over to him, and politely offered a greeting, "Hello, mission accomplished."
His eyes are red, a bit like blood in a glass, and he smells like gunpowder smoke. When he laughs, there is no feeling of a gentle person, but will only feel the brewing danger.
Gin paused.
He looked at the newcomer without moving, assessed the danger he felt, and chewed on the following information about the newcomer.
He's been a smart kid since childhood, came to the attention of the organization at the age of six, disappeared at the age of seven, spent a short time within the organization, then left the organization without a hitch, and has been moving around the world without a trace, only recently returning to Tokyo.
He's a very dangerous person.
Rum was originally responsible for this dangerous person who seemed to remember his parents' profession, but still had some bottom line, and stood on the edge of darkness and refused to come in.
But before the important moment of 'newcomer avenging his parents with his own hands' came, which meant he had the stain of shooting a police officer on duty and fully joined the organization, the organization found out that there were still people alive in the Anamo Group.
Rum made a mistake.
Gin takes over the mission and is responsible for making the newcomer step into the darkness, joining the organization for good and never leaving.
Gin put out the cigarette and looked at the bomb truck again for some reason, "Well, someone has already gone to confirm."
He pondered, "Did you meet anyone else on the way?"
Seemingly surprised and surprised by the question, the newcomer twitched his eyes and smiled again, "Didn't run into any searching police."
"But when I arrived, Yamano Tarō was attacking a police officer."
"The police officer is still alive," he said, unconcerned, with no hint of the bottom line in the organization's profiling, "If you care, you can send someone to take him out."
"Or should I kill him first and come back to you?"
The tone is casual but very aggressive, and the danger brewing is like poisonous wine exuding the mellow aroma of grapes.
Poisonous wine is just wine, and Gin hadn't taken a sip before, so he frowned at the mellow, dangerous aroma.
But for some reason, he had a bad premonition and the urge to retreat, as if he had drank poisonous wine in one gulp. He subconsciously glanced at the bomb truck with his peripheral vision before denying it, "No need."
"If there is a need to silence them, the person who goes to check will do it themselves."
It's too dangerous, and it's something that the organization has been trying to get for a long time.
Gin no longer stayed too long, lest he really got burned and drank poisonous wine. He took out a mobile phone and threw it over, saying concisely, "Contact mobile phone."
"Low-level members of the organization do not have code names, and will not have contact with other members of the organization, you only need to follow orders."
"If necessary, I will send you a message."
"Remember, as long as the task is given to you via cell phone message, no matter what, you must go and execute it."
Even if it's not Gin who sends the message, even if the mission is a little out of bounds and involves working police officers and ordinary innocent people.
With such a dangerous man whose parents are police officers joining the organization, the organization will surely send out missions tailored to make him sink into the darkness until he can no longer break free.
That's why Gin emphasized this point.
He also stared at the newcomer's expression.
The newcomer casually picked up the phone, not sure if he understood the subtext, but his expression didn't change, it was still calm and relaxed, and when he realized that he was watching, he smiled at Gin again, with a good-tempered look, "I see."
"Is that all?"
"...That Yamada, Yamano Tarō," Gin didn't memorize the name of the waste seriously, but only skimmed over it, although he had the impression of 'Yamada Tarō' for the fat officer, but went with the newcomer who must have remembered the guy's name better, "let a couple of Anamo Group guys go free."
"The organization has locked their location and will send someone to deal with them in a while."
"If you're not sure, you can handle it yourself."
The newcomer nodded slowly and turned on his cell phone to study it.
Because he was too rusty, he frowned, not like he was listening to his superior, but like he was listening to his subordinates report something insignificant, "Anything else?"
Gin: "..."
"You're too lax," he glanced at the large wet stain on the newcomer's abdomen and said in a cold voice, "How dare you enter the car with blood on your body."
"Once you leave a trace of blood at the scene, the police can discover your true identity."
The probability is high, 0.01%.
"Have you thought about the consequences?"
What about attitude.
"Ah, blood stains," the newcomer paused while studying the keys on his cell phone, with an astonished expression as if he remembered something, "I have stopped the bleeding."
"Yamano Tarō's death scene won't leave any traces of my blood, the shoes are ordinary sneakers, the pattern and scale are nothing special, I'll remember to replace them." He pressed his cell phone again, grumbling a little, "How come there's only the time, not the month and year?"
Gin stopped walking towards the car.
He looked at the newcomer, who had no sense of humor and a rather flippant attitude, "The car."
"I already mentioned 'car'."
"You've been lying in a car, and even your wounds were bandaged with the contents of the car to stop the bleeding, do you really think that there won't be any blood or fingerprints left in the car?"
Complaints.
Gin is used to waste, and even more used to interacting with waste, but not used to labeling someone as competent only to find out they're an arrogant waste.
It's a sign of being wrong, and it's not a pleasant thing to see.
Newcomer: "Huh?"
He was a little confused, but smiled good-naturedly, "Why are you asking me if you're going to destroy the car."
"Anything else?"
...
Gin's eyes narrowed and sharpened as he looked at Ichijō Mirai critically.
"You knew there was a bomb in the car."