Monthly, salary, Alsace.
Each of these words is so easy to understand that the first two can be easily understood by even a minor child.
The last word, for those who know the existence and part of the organization, is also easy to understand, and is obviously a code name.
But Amuro Tōru's CPU was a little fried, and he ran through.
Gin comes to the bank every month, personally, to pay Alsace for the month's paycheck.
Not personally, Gin didn't go into the bank.
The paychecks were so small that Vodka didn't even take his handbag, he just used the money in his wallet.
That's not the point. The point is: "S-salary???"
Wages, in the sunny world of order, are as commonplace as food and water.
In some strictly regulated Yakuza organizations, "salary" also appears, such as the legal Yamaguchi-gumi in Japan and other organizations.
Does the salary matter? Yes.
But not important.
Like the high councilors, the doctors in the White Tower, the management of big companies.
They have more ways to make money than wages.
In the Organization, salaries don't exist, the Organization provides guns, ammunition, intelligence, plans of action, operational guidance, everything physical, hidden, even money.
But there's no salary.
Ordinary code name members can easily skim the salary of ordinary people by spending a few hours, even if it means robbing them in a stupid way.
How...how...how does this organization get paid?
This is ridiculous!
'Code name members pay personally' is just as ridiculous. Gin doesn't work in HR or finance, so how could he be responsible for paying another code name's monthly salary?
Monthly.
Monthly.
And the reason is also ridiculous. It's a 'bank account limit'.
It's not a problem that's difficult to solve even for an ordinary member of the organization, let alone a codename member.
And even if there was no way to solve the problem due to various issues, couldn't we just do a cash transaction? Or even if it's not, can't we just go to the regular code members and have them come to the bank regularly, or simply blend into the bank, and make regular monthly payments?
...Why is it like this now?
There's too much information. Amuro Tōru's cpu's really fried.
He doesn't say anything for a long time.
Gin was calm, calmly smoking his cigarette, his tone was light: "You heard right."
Amuro Tōru: "..."
"Alsace," He frowned, repeating, "Salary?"
Gin was as generous as he wanted, and said some more, "Well, it's a special case, he asked for it, couldn't help it."
He took out his cell phone, pressed it a few times, sent out a message, and said faintly, "You probably don't know who he is, but for a change, you've definitely heard of him,"
"-'Satan'."
'Alsace', Amuro Tōru had never heard of it.
It wasn't a common wine, and he didn't find the corresponding wine and its characteristics at first glance, but only remembered a wine-producing region called Alsace, which also produced a variety of other wines that were quite complex.
But, 'Satan'...
"What did you say?" His gaze was fixed, fixed on Gin, trying to observe every expression, to analyze every emotion, "Satan?"
"Satan? Satan who created three bloody hell cases in Tokyo ten years ago, and has not been seen or heard from since?!"
No matter how many decades, ten years, or one or two years they've been on the job, every Tokyo police officer is familiar with this code name.
Every Japanese police officer knows this code name.
Because 'Satan' is a test question.
Almost all police officers go to the police academy for six months before entering the police system.
Starting with Amuro Tōru's class, the academy system changed, and for the first two months, it was 'hellishly difficult', with the academy giving the cadets all sorts of problems to work on.
From the third month onwards, they have to learn all kinds of laws and regulations, and they have to swallow all the boring knowledge, and sometimes the instructors will use real cases to make the students understand more.
The 'Satan' case is the most classic case.
It's also an embarrassing case, as the perpetrator got away with it after turning Tokyo into a continuous bloody hell.
Within the police force, every time you get promoted, you're questioned and tested on a variety of unsolved cases, and you're asked to write a short essay on what you would do if you were the investigating officer.
The Satan case is one of the toughest.
The police have been pursuing the Satan case, and secretly suspect that 'Satan' was committed by a member of the code name, which was revealed by the FBI.
But it's been nothing but suspicion and speculation, and the Tokyo police and the FBI have never found any evidence.
Until now.
Gin nodded, "Yes."
He seemed unusually calm, less cold and stern, more resigned, "The 'Satan' who killed three bloody hellions."
"Monthly salary are his requirement."
"Can't be helped."
...Then there's no way.
It was only natural that Gin would have to follow orders from such a dangerous man, one who was probably at the top of the organization's list.
Amuro Tōru adjusted his expression and eyes, which had been in a 'bourbon' state, to relax a bit, and his tone was a bit more casual, "That's no wonder."
"Satan is actually a member of the organization, I've never heard anything about it, I was interested in investigating it before, but I didn't find anything, I thought he was dead."
He quipped without blinking, "'Veteran', that's what the FBI guessed."
"So he's still alive? I'm afraid he's pretty old now. Has he been out for the last couple years because of the aftermath of the war? Aggravated leg injuries? Or psychological problems?"
Gin stubs out his cigarette and shoots Amuro Tōru a dumb-dog look: ah yes, yes, very old, a few years younger than you are.
But he agrees, "The last few years, he's been very peaceful."
Peaceful to the point where the organization is a little scared.
Gin's more scared.
"Alsace's been around a lot lately, so be careful when you're on vacation, don't get into trouble and have me picking up your dead body."
Gin said: "I've been a bit busy lately, since you are willing to help me, I really appreciate it, next month, I'll send you the exact amount of the paycheck and the account,"
"I've already messaged Alsace to report it."
He picked up his cell phone and shook it.
In a quick glance, Amuro Tōru saw a screen full of messages.
All messages from Gin.
He hadn't replied to any of them, at least not the last dozen or so.
The bank, the vodka, walks out, opens the door and gets in the car, Gin retrieves his cell phone, "Be careful."
"Be careful." There were two warnings, one of which was, "Don't die in 30 days."
If Amuro Tōru dies in 30 days, Gin will still have to send the money next month.
Another note: "The last guy who sent money in my place was disposed of by Alsace because he stepped into the bank with his left foot first."
The car starts up and Vodka casts another glance.
This time, Amuro Tōru could confirm that the emotion he recognized was not an illusion: pity.
The pity that had grown from the moment he realized he was on vacation in the neighborhood, as if he were looking at a cancer patient who was dying, and a little bit sad about it.
The car started.
Gin casts a final, uncertain glance: "Of course I know about your investigation into 'Satan'."
"From the time you joined the organization until now, you've been investigating, is it admiration?"
"It's nice to finally meet your longtime idol, isn't it?"
"Don't be too happy."