Outside the window, under the lush greenery, was Ichijō Mirai.
At the sound of the call, he stood up, stabilized himself as if he had blacked out after sitting for a long time, and gave a pensive look, "I think..."
Morofushi Hiromitsu's expression was no different, it was just the normal helpless expression of a punished police academy freshman who saw another police academy freshman actually slacking off, "Sure enough."
"Matsuda-san is right, Kujō-san, you really don't plan to move."
Translation: I didn't hear what the instructors just said.
Ichijō Mirai didn't really care, he didn't listen at all, and with a pensive look on his face, he said the second half of the sentence carefully, "I've been scolded."
It is known that the scene just now is a clip of the 'player' communicating with his mother when he was a child in the plot.
It is also known that the Player had a disease when he was a child.
It's some kind of illness that may have been inherited from his mother, probably psychosis, which is characterized by cognitive abnormalities, not being afraid of corpses, and even believing that his mother would kill him, and choosing to accept it after careful consideration.
Dual Known: Ichijō Mirai is a player.
So...
Ichijō Mirai concluded, "Really scolded."
*
"Don't scold him."
Gin spun the glass of wine in his hand, looking down at the colorful lights melting into the wine, and said coldly, "You'll be tempted to yell at him within half an hour of meeting him, but don't."
The evening bar flashing colorful lights, so that the venue hazy on a layer of ambiguity, he sat alone on the seat.
A passing bunny waitress approached with some surprise, "Sir, what did you just say?"
Her eyes darted over the wine in Gin's hand, "Would you like to order another drink..."
As she spoke, her right hand held the tray slightly to the side, and her left hand slid from the side of her waist, revealing half of her pale skin, and spun out a gun.
Gin lifted his hand with the glass, landing on the tray and pressing it down along with the gun he had just poked out, "Belmode."
He said coldly, "Time is running out, sit down."
"In three hours, meet the newcomer."
The bunny waitress didn't struggle, she followed Gin's force and placed the tray on the table, she sat down and picked up the glass of beautifully colored grape brandy that was brewing on the tray and smiled as she held the mouth of the glass, "That's a pain in the ass... I've only just stepped off the plane... and you can't wait for me to meet the 'newcomer'?"
She bites the pronunciation of 'newcomer' slightly long, with a little bit of ambiguity that makes people think.
"Didn't you firmly refuse me to interfere in Tokyo affairs and the affairs of new people?" Belmode laughed again, "I mentioned it again and again before, but you refused. Now you ask me to intervene. Oh, this is really a matter of time."
Belmode, is a relatively mysterious and dangerous code name member in the organization.
She is a dancing butterfly, a beautiful and intoxicating spider, the most unattainable moonlight in the minds of some code members, and the most outstanding dog trainer, who can pull the dog leash and issue orders to them casually.
Such a person is too much trouble to deal with, every smile and turn of her eyes are poisoned, if not careful will fall into the pit, Gin always do not want to deal with.
But this time was special.
Special in the sense that: "The information shows that it was your fault for letting him go."
On the day when the two officers died, the organization took Ichijō Mirai away, but not long after, he left the organization and disappeared from sight until recently when he resurfaced, joined the organization, and successfully gave the organization and Tokyo a small shock.
According to the data, the only person who had contact with Ichijō Mirai was Belmode.
It's Belmode's fault for letting him go.
Rounded up, she was partly to blame for this little shock, and she was responsible.
"Huh?" Belmode covered her lips in mock surprise, "So?"
She smiled, "You didn't get the full story."
"He didn't go through the same process as a normal member of the organization, no other codename member left a mark on the profile, of course it's not that no one's interested in him, it's just that they don't have access to him, I do."
Said she, in a mock pensive manner, "If not knowing of his existence can also be interpreted as 'no one is interested in him'."
Gin frowned.
Belmode adds, "I just have access, and what your file says about me is that I probably requested to see him once."
And then, with deliberate emphasis, "The gentleman approved it, agreed to it."
"But he refused." She hooked her glass with her finger, her tone rather careless, "He didn't want to see me, refused, disappeared not long after that, from beginning to end, we didn't have any contact."
"Is it too much to ask me to take part of the blame, Gin?"
Gin frowned again.
Not because Belmode had caught on to the fact that he hadn't hesitated to pull the wool over someone's eyes, but because, "He refused?"
...Has the right to refuse?
That's not in the file.
In the organization, each member of the codename has a corresponding part of the authority, they have their own duties, but also know not to be overly curious to actively explore some of the things that they should not explore the reason, so after a pause, Gin immediately added: "With your character, actually willing to give up."
The question turned into a sneer.
The smile on Belmode's lips deepened as she looked at Gin with interest, "Yes."
"You almost broke the rules, that's kind of bad, should I report it to the top...I mean, your cell phone has been ringing since just now."
She frowned, "It rings every minute, stops for a minute every five minutes, and only prompts a text message."
"It's been twenty minutes since you arrived and it's been ringing so regularly, what's your emergency?"
On the table, Gin's phone was on, showing a call that was not a distress call, but it was like a distress call. After no one answered the call for a long time, the call was automatically hung up. This time, after the five minutes were up, a somewhat worried text message was displayed.
[Haven't you rested enough? It's been 20 minutes, and you've been on mute for 20 minutes without answering the phone. The organization has worked so hard...]
The words that followed exceeded the number of words displayed on the screen, so they were abbreviated to ellipses.
Seeing Belmode looking at his cell phone, Gin raised his hand and calmly pressed in the text message.
The second half of the message was displayed in its entirety.
[The organization worked so hard to give you a job, and generously gave you a salary, and even gave you the right to kill as you please, which is only available to a small number of professions, and you took a full 20-minute break, do you deserve the organization?]
''Are you worthy of the organization?''
'Are you worthy...what?'
Belmode averted his eyes, rewatched, averted his eyes, rewatched, and double-checked before speaking slowly, "What?"
"...Newcomer?"
A text message from a newcomer?
"Wow," she looked up at Gin's calm expression, and couldn't help but admire him, "So calm, it's really 'Gin', so cold and ruthless."
Gin nodded, "I'm used to him going mad.."
"If it were me," Belmode interrupted, continuing to talk to himself, "I wouldn't have ignored him for so long."
"How can you be so cold and heartless to such a cute and clingy child?"
Gin: "?"
His eyebrow jumped and he repeated, "cute, clingy, child?"
"You should see your face in the mirror right now," Belmode couldn't help but laugh, "It's like you've seen a ghost."
Under the gaze of death, she could barely contain her laughter and held up her hands, "Fine, fine, I'll stop joking."
Then, a little more thoughtfully, "But he's only seventeen this year, isn't he? Compared to you, he is still a child, not even reaching the age of marriage under Japan's law."
The legal age of majority in Japan is twenty, and the age at which men can marry is eighteen.
According to the law, Ichijō Mirai is still a minor who cannot get married.
But the law is the law, and to take him lightly would be to become a dead body.
According to the intelligence collected by the organization, Ichijō Mirai should be the son of a police officer with a very high sense of morality, and he is someone the organization needs to blacken as soon as possible, but in fact... Ichijō Mirai does have a strong sense of morality, except when it comes to his lack of morality.
Faced with such a dangerous man, Belmode's concern is that he's under the age of marriage, and Gin doesn't bother to comment on how far off the mark that concern is, except to say, "I'm looking forward to your reaction when you meet him."
"I expect you to say 'cute, clingy child' again, even if it's just a joke."
"You've read the information I sent you, haven't you? You have to."
It's about Ichijō Mirai's two perfect terrorist attacks on Tokyo, unilaterally bullying Gin, Rum and Tokyo.
"Must read," Gin emphasized, gesturing around with his eyes, "Know why I asked you to meet me in the evening? It's only six o'clock."
Six o'clock is when the nightlife is supposed to start, and the bar is already crowded, but not too crowded.
But right now, the bar is packed, and there's as much traffic as there was at midnight.
"Huh?" Belmode speculated carelessly, "because I just got off the plane less than an hour ago?"
"No," Gin denied, "because a couple hours later, the bar would have closed."
Oh, so it's because in a couple hours, the bar will be, wait a minute.
"Close?"
Belmode slowly pops up a question mark, "How many hours later will the bar close?"
What?
"I haven't been to Tokyo in a while," she said, a little surprised, "Don't bars in Tokyo always stay open until morning? Is there some new law or policy?"
And then, "It's not because..."
Gin: "Uh-huh."
"It's because of the fear of 'cute, clingy child'," he said coldly, "There's no new legal policy, no new administrative treaty, bars in Tokyo have coincidentally and voluntarily closed at ten o'clock every night without any explicit regulations, except for a few bars that offer private meeting places and can't close at ten o'clock."
On the desktop, a minute passes, and the cell phone lights up again with a new caller notification.
"Since the sniping incident," Gin nodded the lighted cell phone, "at night, the flow of people on the street will be reduced, after 10:00 p.m. the street is almost no one, even overtime time is moved to eleven o'clock at the latest."
He said lightly: "The new programmer the organization is targeting has been home by twelve for three days in a row."
Belmode: "?"
She reacted with a knowing, "Oh, because he shoots so fast, it's almost like he kills without thinking."
Not only ordinary Tokyo residents, but also members of organizations with no authority and convicts who've been in the business for years are starting to put their tails between their legs.
That's because Ichijō Mirai was shooting too fast.
So fast that it's like he's killing people indiscriminately, without a target, just shooting at them when they appear in the sniper's scope.
Anyone who knows a bit about snipers would have judged it that way. This is Tokyo, after all, with countless ordinary residents, not a battlefield where everyone in the sniper's scope is an enemy.
Not to mention ordinary Tokyo residents and unknowing convicts, Belmode, after watching the video again and again, even though he already knew that each of the victims was one of those guys from the
And a little bit more inclined: may be crazy indiscriminate killing, just his extra luck, the enemy's extra bad luck ...?
"The sniper case, it's Rum who's in charge," Gin said in a calm tone as he tapped the lit cell phone again, "I don't know exactly what happened, but he's looking for Rum."
Belmode raised an eyebrow.
Gin was still very calm: "Rum has applied for a transfer."
"He's going to France on a mission, he's not in Tokyo right now."
"So," he said, emphasizing what he'd emphasized from the start, "he's going to make you want to yell at him for the first half hour of the meeting."
Whether it's psycho, dog, or some other expletive, "But, hold it."
"You've emphasized it again and again," Belmode rolled his eyes, "In fact, you don't need to emphasize it, I won't be like Rum."
The two of them had already tacitly agreed: during the mission, Rum had messed with Ichijō Mirai.
Why else would 'he keep looking for Rum'? And why would he 'request a transfer'?
"Don't worry, that gentleman also cares about the stability of the organization's members because he's good enough," Belmode lifted his glass and took a sip, letting the wine wet his red lips, "I knew the situation was tricky before I came here, and made a plan ahead of time, preparing a little gift to throw in the towel."
"I just need your help, a small favor."
She lowered her eyelashes, licked her slightly wet lips, the corners of her lips raised, "Lend me a villa, a villa in the far suburbs, a villa in the far suburbs where even if someone shoots a gun in the villa, no one will hear it."
"And send him the address."