Salary and wages.
This is a very important concern for every job seeker.
The premise is that the average applicant and the average company.
I know Ichijō Mirai's character, and I've been told many times beforehand that 'your position in the organization will be very high'.
However, after hearing Ichijō Mirai's relaxed questioning like a normal job applicant after a harmonious interview, Belmode was still silent for a moment when she heard the words that were intentionally emphasized.
She had already muted the microphone, so she could only touch the cow cat that had gotten tired of parkour and had come to pamper the humans for a while, and remained silent, waiting for Karasuma Renya to speak.
Karasuma Renya's tone was still calm, as if whatever Ichijō Mirai said, he would accept it as if he were an old father doting on his youngest son, even if Ichijō Mirai was negotiating salary with the yakuza as a newcomer to the yakuza, "What do you want?"
He's not asking what's the ideal monthly salary per year, he's asking 'what do you want', and he's directly including the non-monetary part of it.
Ichijō Mirai: "Ah."
He uttered only one tone of voice, and somewhat carelessly held up a finger, "One, let's say half a million dollars a year."
"Dollars."
Said, he exhaled again, solemnized a few points, praised himself, "In order to make money, I really work hard."
"Not bad."
Half a million dollars a year...
It's not worth mentioning at all.
Because it was so insignificant, Ichijō Mirai said it in such a solemn tone that it was incongruous, and Belmode's eyebrows rose, subconsciously wary, thinking, 'What's the cow-cat thinking again?'
Sounds ordinary, but buried enough to break the psychosis of the unique trick?
Gin's experience was too much to bear in mind.
Karasuma Renya also paused for a moment before answering, "...Is that all?"
"Yes."
"OK," Ichijō Mirai was satisfied, glancing at Belmode, "Don't play trolls on important and serious occasions, it's bad for the atmosphere."
"Where's Gin's misadventures and past experiences? So many years are so over, do not talk nonsense, sometimes find their own reasons, so many years of tolerance has not grown? Have you ever seriously increased your defenses?"
He was so serious and full of nonsense that he quickly put up a second finger and pondered for a moment before asking in a more careless tone, "How many 'Rums' are there in the organization?"
Pronounced Rum, as in waste.
"Never mind, don't answer that," he said in his second request, 'Either the 'Rum' never come into my sight, or let me help them not come into my sight."
The former is to say that losers don't come out of their sight.
In the latter case, it means that Ichijō Mirai will be kind enough to help out if the trash comes out and gets in the way.
"..." Karasuma Renya said, "It seems you really hate Rum."
And Rum side of members of the organization.
"Yes."
Ichijō Mirai held up three fingers, "Three."
He gave an innocent smile, "Don't get mad."
"You know, I'm a newcomer, I don't really know much about the yakuza, it's my first time to become a proper salaried yakuza member, and I'm actually quite worried about my anxiety, not to mention that I'm very articulate right now."
"I'm a newcomer, I can make some small mistakes when I'm on a mission, such as being too kind and going soft, such as not solving the problem properly because of indecision, such as trusting my companion and missing,"
"Alas," Ichijō Mirai sighed, pleading, "at times like these, please don't get angry and give the newcomer a little more patience, okay?"
He's saying that the newcomer is too weak to make mistakes, and he's begging for it.
But the truth is that the newcomer is too ruthless and violates the organization's principle of confidentiality with his repeated terrorist attacks, so he begs for patience.
I want to tolerate the newcomer's behavior.
Since the newcomer doesn't want to curb his ruthlessness, it's up to the organization to put up with it.
As the leader of the organization, Karasuma Renya: "..."
He replied with the speed of a man who had definitely thought things through beforehand: "Yes."
"Of course, you shouldn't be restricted."
Anyway, the first victim was never the leader, and the first one to have a heart attack was never the leader.
Ichijō Mirai glanced at the red light camera, wiggled three fingers, and withdrew his hand, "OK, I have no other requests."
Karasuma Renya's tone of voice finally wavered, showing surprise: "That's all?"
These three requests were all too simple.
In simple terms, it was a good person willing to work all day without pay and earn ten dollars a month.
It's the kind of thing that would make a black-blooded capitalist boss a little uneasy.
"Ah," Ichijō Mirai intoned again, calmly giving a confirming answer, "yes, just those three."
Actually, it's possible to work for free...
Players, if you're short of money, you can just rob yourself, if you have an itch, you can just take on a couple of solved quests or pick a few lucky ones to kill, if you want to take a break, you can just take a break, and even if it's a time-limited quest, the big thing is to read the file slowly afterwards.
Salary and wages are not a problem, players will entertain themselves and solve it for themselves.
Even if it's an emotional issue, such as wanting to gain the respect of others, wouldn't that be easier?
Inuo's respect is more than enough.
Power and status are not even worth mentioning, and when these things are done, the entire organization will respect them, and some smart people will even treat Ichijō Mirai with more care and respect than they would a leader.
It's easy to usurp the throne, just force the leader to come out, keep reading the files and fighting the bosses, and you can easily take over an organization with the useless Rum.
Ichijō Mirai doesn't really want much from the organization, after all, he can take whatever he wants.
He barely managed to squeeze in three demands, which can be summarized into one point: don't make me angry.
It's easy to fight a boss, but it's not so easy to run an organization, and Ichijō Mirai refused to do so.
The attitude was so obvious that Karasuma Renya fell silent for a moment before letting out a low laugh, "You don't have a sense of belonging to the organization."
"That's only natural," his gentle, tolerant tone changed to a calmer one as he went through the voice changer, "After all, the Organization is only one of the tools of revenge for you."
After all, Ichijō Mirai didn't grow up in the Organization.
Karasuma Renya had been sorry for a long time, but now he was even more sorry.
Ichijō Mirai intoned again, "Ah."
He wanted to say that he cared even less about the so-called vengeance, but he didn't, and just stood up, "Is there anything else?"
"If not, take me to the medical checkup, it's too dark in here, and talking to two guys who don't dare show their faces doesn't really interest me,"
Then he looked up as if remembering something. "By the way, the FBI--"
*
[The FBI is of no concern.]
Gin looked over the message he had received and calmly translated the meaning, "The madman has left a pawn among the survivor of the FBI,"
"The pawn will play a role at the right time, so that the flames of fear will sweep through the entire FBI, and in the short term, every FBI agent who has to come to Neon to investigate a case will bring with them the fear of certain death, and like scared rats, they will consciously fail to investigate with any useful information."
That's not the point.
The point is: "...Survivor?"
Gin frowned in confusion, "The FBI has survivor?"
That doesn't make sense.
What elite FBI agent could survive a maniac's rampage and not be hunted down by a maniac?
"Yes," The door to the villa pushed open and Ichijō Mirai stepped out, "why would you be surprised that there is a survivor?"
He yawned lazily, very perfunctorily, "One guy was so good that he served as bait for two rounds and let him live."
And very irresponsibly, he guessed, "The FBI would have let him live, wouldn't they? I don't know."
"Doesn't matter. He'll give an honest account of everything in the FBI interrogation room before he dies."
It'll ignite the fire of fear.
In front of the villa, the Inuo had disappeared. Ichijō Mirai looked around, but couldn't find him, so he turned to Gin.
"The car's been inspected," Gin said. "My car's out front. I'll take you home. Get in."
It was the same black Porsche.
Ichijō Mirai sat in the passenger seat, and his and Gin's cell phones vibrated as soon as the car was out of sight.
Gin took out his cell phone and looked at it as he drove, "Welcome the new members."
"Welcome, esteemed Mr. Ichijō Mirai," Ichijō Mirai was a little sleepy, "The organization is honored to have you on board,"
He somewhat absently read a few lines of the normal company welcome to the job template that the Organization had found on purpose, and impatiently pulled it to a close, "Your codename is,"
The cell phone screen lit up, and more than half the text of the message to those in the know was a solemn statement that the new member was a dangerous man.
At the end, there was a code name, and Gin saw it, narrowing his eyes as he slowly pronounced it, his voice overlapping with Ichijō Mirai's, "Marc...?"
[Marc Brandy]