[3].
Akai Shūichi is looking at Ichijō Mirai.
Akai Shūichi was looking at Ichijō Mirai with a cold look, like a wolf looking at its own prey.
He noticed that Ichijō Mirai's eyes were closed for a moment, longer than the normal blinking, for about a second, as if he was slowing down for something, when he looked sideways, as if he was aware of it.
[2].
Even before his eyes opened, a smile erupted and spread quickly, and Ichijō Mirai opened his eyes with a smile.
His laugh was not the same smile as before, but a big laugh.
And it didn't sound like a laugh that came out at the first moment, it was a laugh that had been going on for a while.
Laughter should be warm, but Ichijō Mirai's eyes were cold and wild with a sense of adventure.
He was like a wolf.
A wolf that has been starving for three or four days, observing and searching the grasslands, but finds a lost lamb and lights up with green eyes.
But it has a subtle meaning because of the uncontrollable laughter.
[1].
Akai Shūichi's movements were frozen for a moment before he stepped on the gas.
The two cars went off one after the other.
From behind, Akai Shūichi could hear loud laughter.
The laughter was coming from the red car in front of him, and Ichijō Mirai, who never obeyed the rules of the road when he was driving, was doing the same, with only one hand on the steering wheel, and the other resting casually on the open window, with most of his elbow exposed.
The wind was blowing, lifting the white hair that flew out of the window.
The wind was so sharp, it was like a razor blade, cutting the laughter to pieces and shattering the words that had been thrown at him from afar.
"Mr. FBI, if the car were to explode in the next second,"
"Would you subconsciously shield me?"
Ichijō Mirai, presumably finding the question somewhat amusing, laughed again at the end of the inquiry, his elbow on the window vibrating with the sound of his laughter.
The rearview mirror outside the driver's seat of the red car caught a few glimpses of his delight.
Ichijō Mirai doesn't look at the road in front of him at all, but just laughs, unable to hold back his laughter, while the red car drifts smoothly through a turn, leaving behind a harsh and crisp screeching of tires.
Akai Shūichi: "..."
He couldn't understand why Ichijō Mirai had suddenly asked that question, or why the guy in front of him who had interfered with his rival's thoughts without any sense of guilt was enjoying himself so much.
At the next turn, as the black car and the red car approached, he replied coldly, "No."
There's some difference between the New York FBI and the NYPD.
The NYPD is a reassuring...
The NYPD is, by definition, a reassuring presence.
The FBI, wherever it is, is famous.
Famous for 'FBI! Open up!'.
It's not a good reputation, but unfortunately, it's a reputation that's almost universal, with even some news and movies using not-so-sharp words to make incredibly bitter jokes.
Akai Shūichi replied decisively, without hesitation.
Ichijō Mirai's arrogant laughter had slowly stopped, but when he heard the answer, he couldn't hold back and laughed again, "Really?"
"But you will."
The harsh sound of tires scraping against the ground while drifting had ended by the time those words rang out, so Akai Shūichi heard them clearly.
He glanced forward a few times, meeting Ichijō Mirai's red eyes in the red car's rearview mirror, and saw red eyes with a bright smile.
Suddenly, he had a subtle sensation.
...Like, something familiar.
Somehow, somewhere, he had seen the arrogant white hair and the open smile in the rearview mirror.
But at that time, the white hair was stained with blood, so it was even more awe-inspiring.
The feeling was sudden and unfounded, but like Akai Shūichi's subtle pause at the end of the red light, it was like a flash of lightning that passed through his mind, and it concerned him.
Akai Shūichi's eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror.
Ichijō Mirai spoke coldly, "Welcome to the shooting session."
"Remember to jump from side to side."
As those words were thrown back by the speeding red car, shattered by the black car, and rang in Akai Shūichi's ears, a gunshot rang out.
"Boom!"
Not far away, on the second floor balcony, a middle-aged man in pajamas was cursing and firing a shotgun.
Akai Shūichi saw him in the corner of his eye.
But somehow, as if by mistake, even before he saw the shooter, Akai Shūichi had a vague feeling that it would be a middle-aged man in pajamas, and that the gun would be a shotgun.
Without thinking, he leaned hard left, watched a bullet graze the car and land on the right, leaned right again, and glimpsed through the car's rearview mirror a bullet graze the left rear end of the car and hit the ground.
The next turn came.
Akai Shūichi frowns at the sudden change in thinking and drifts smoothly through this dangerous section of the road.
The black car didn't take a single bullet.
In the red car ahead, Ichijō Mirai waves his hand in unabashed appreciation, "Wow, that was great!"
Both cars enter a somewhat long straightaway.
Up ahead, Ichijō Mirai actually peeked out the window, waving at Akai Shūichi, inquiring curiously, "Get shot at a lot?"
He had noticed that Akai Shūichi had some talent for dodging bullets, and had never been hit more than three times.
Regardless of the archive, Akai Shūichi would always improvise no matter what the situation was.
If he hadn't reacted the same way when the situation was the same, Ichijō Mirai might have mistaken him for a memory recaller just by looking at the bullet dodging sequence.
Akai Shūichi: "..."
He stared at the arrogant guy in front of him, and took advantage of the moment when the red car's speed inevitably slowed down as it approached the corner, and surged up to a speed that made a near one hundred and eighty-degree turn in an arc on the road.
The black car overtakes the red car from the inside and slams into the red car with its front end.
At the moment of the collision, Ichijō Mirai swerves with the steering wheel and smoothly puffs the black car's tailpipe as if it were a provocative cigarette, "There you go again," he says, without looking back.
Without looking back, he drove to another off-ramp and finally sat back in the car, waving his hand lazily again in a friendly reminder, "Second shooting zone coming up."
Countless more people were awakened in the chilly early morning hours, and some of them couldn't stand it any longer and raised their pistols to fire.
Ichijō Mirai drove carelessly through this danger zone.
He didn't even try to dodge, he just gave the car the right amount of tailing, deviated a little from its original path, and naturally avoided the bullets.
The red car and the black car left the area one after the other.
They are not too far apart, maintaining a fishing distance like 'trying to catch up'.
If the black car is fast, the red car will be fast, if the black car is slow, the red car will be slow.
It's a bad game.
This is supposed to be a hot race.
Akai Shūichi was prepared for a few splashes of blood and the thrill of tasting death in this race, but now...
Amidst the overwhelming smell of smoke, there's more than a hint of careless provocation and mischievous playfulness from one of the competitors.
The smell of blood has been greatly reduced, leaving the race as a game.
A game of skill, a game of hearts and a game of words.
Akai Shūichi suddenly spoke up, "I'm a sniper, and I'm sensitive to bullets."
This was an answer to Ichijō Mirai's question, and after answering it, he inquired, "What do you mean by the question you just asked?"
Ichijō Mirai raised an eyebrow and glanced backward at the way the conversation was conducted, somewhat like the previous quiz game, before answering, "Literally."
Literally: would Akai Shūichi have subconsciously and instinctively shielded him when the car exploded?
...Yes.
It's an amazing, amazing, amazing thing for Ichijō Mirai to see.
So much so that he couldn't help but laugh as he was being swept away by the blast of air, laughing even as the sound in his ears disappeared and he hit the ground hard, laughing until he blacked out and the red light came on.
Ichijō Mirai couldn't help but laugh again as he thought of the fixed gaze of Akai Shūichi before his vision went black, "You're a little different from what I thought."
Akai Shūichi didn't move, letting his voice carry against the wind, "What's different?"
"Before today," Ichijō Mirai replied sincerely, "I thought you were a sensible and calm fellow,"
"Not so long ago, I thought you were a sensible, yet somewhat impulsive and decisive, thrill-seeker who would definitely make thrilling choices at the table,"
"But now,"
he thought, and then thought again, "psychotic."
It was a word that Ichijō Mirai had trouble saying.
It had always been the word others used to describe him...
But to him, Akai Shūichi was indeed 'crazy'.
It was just a race, but it was as if he was running to his death, as if there could only be two outcomes today: one, Ichijima's death, and the other, his death.
One, Ichijō Mirai loses and is tamed.
Two, Akai Shūichi dies.
Of course, this guy was obsessed with investigating the organization even at the risk of his life, and Ichijō Mirai could imagine how long this guy had been tracking the organization for twelve years, and how clueless he was that he wouldn't hesitate to step on the gas when he smelled a clue.
But he still wanted to say: sick.
This sick guy had a gun but didn't fire it, and when the car exploded, like the police protecting the people, he instinctively swooped out of the car to protect him without thinking.
It's a typical but not so typical FBI.
In Akai Shūichi, Ichijō Mirai smelled the scent of a rival that had been extinct for a long time, something he hadn't smelled in a long time.
It was like the FBI who had arrested him, repulsive and trusting at the same time, not a good feeling, not a bad feeling, something like a wet, rainy day.
Akai Shūichi: "..."
Does he seem like a psychopath?
It's been less than half an hour since they met, and he hasn't even had a chance to use all the plans he's already prepared, whether they're drastic or mild, they haven't worked, and he's already a 'psycho'?
He raised an eyebrow and didn't answer the comment.
Up ahead, there was another turn.
Inexplicably, Akai Shūichi looked familiar.
When he had been watching the neighborhood before tonight, he had expected 'Messiah' to appear in the neighborhood at the moment of arresting the murderer.
And that he would provoke the FBI to go out and check on them.
He was prepared.
Including, but not limited to, mapping out the neighborhood, mapping out every back alley in the neighborhood, memorizing maps, memorizing all the places in New York where people can be held, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
At this point in the race, the car has already passed the area that Akai Shūichi was scouting.
In that area, when he turns into a street, he can often predict the next two or three turns, and there is a sense of familiarity.
This is the result of checking the route in advance, which is normal.
But what was abnormal was that after leaving the area, occasionally, very occasionally, Akai Shūichi had a familiar feeling.
It was as if, at some point, he had been driving the same car, chasing a certain red car through a portion of the street.
This kind of feeling like an illusion only appeared once, and then passed away without leaving a trace of substance, causing Akai Shūichi's frown to intensify.
He spoke abruptly again, "You were planning to see Jodie today."
Ichijō Mirai replied indifferently, "Yes."
"Ms. Jodie is very impressive, and a bit out of my league."
The fact that the FBI would use someone to replace the victim didn't surprise Ichijō Mirai, he could have guessed it with his eyes closed.
What was surprising was how well Jodie was disguised.
Even with the darkness of the night and the shadows of the alley, the specific costume and mask, and the prerecorded pouting voices, Jodie's disguise was surprisingly unrecognizable to the fanboys.
Many celebrity fans can recognize their idols by a hand, a back and a footstep.
"But the other day." Akai Shūichi said, "you decided to observe me."
Ichijō Mirai nodded, "Yes."
He was a little confused, "So?"
Does it have anything to do with Jodie?
If it does...
"Oh," Ichijō Mirai could easily think of something, since he'd been thinking about something lately, "your girlfriend?"
Before he could make a snide remark, he was denied, "No."
Akai Shūichi said, "When you've already observed one opponent, you start observing the second one."
"The first opponent will be upset."
Ichijō Mirai: "..."
What nonsense! Ichijō Mirai has rich experience in dealing with FBI like Akai Shūichi. He can guess with his eyes closed that if he says 'You are my opponent!', this guy will frown and refuse to say anything. FBI and criminals are not so-called opponents, and murder cases cannot be used as so-called confrontations.
Now he's saying this, probably...
"You're afraid I'm going to target that lovely Ms. Jodie,"
Ichijō Mirai pondered seriously, "It's not impossible."
When he was thinking of a romantic partner, he didn't think it would be okay, but when he was thinking of someone he could pick on Akai Shūichi, he suddenly thought it would be okay.
He reminded again in passing, "By the way, the third shooting area."
Shots rang out again, sporadically hitting the road.
The red and black cars passed safely.
"Partly," Akai Shūichi didn't deny it, "since you're going to choose me in the end, it's better not to waste time on anyone else."
That's a bit confident.
Ichijō Mirai doesn't deny it, because he's back on file for a number of reasons.
One, he revealed information about himself, even though it was false.
Two, Akai Shūichi apparently misunderstood the relationship between 'Satan' and 'Messiah'.
...Or the kind of misunderstanding that needs to be cleared out of your head.
What do you mean, "If the other person dies, you have no will to live, so you go with them"? That's sick.
The third reason was that both he and Akai Shūichi were seriously injured.
His injuries would heal quickly, but Akai Shūichi would be laid up for a year and a half.
No, Akai Shūichi can't stay in the hospital.
How can he be Ichijō Mirai's partner if he's in the hospital?
So, Ichijō Mirai just smiled in the rearview mirror and said, "Ah yes, yes, you're right.
Once again, the two cars are going around a corner, one after the other.
Akai Shūichi tries to pull over, but when he fails, he simply gives up and doesn't try.
The black car drifted.
He stares at the red car, which has finished drifting, and sees Ichijō Mirai's careless smile in the rearview mirror, and gets the message: Admit it.
Ichijō Mirai recognized Akai Shūichi's deliberately arrogant statement.
However, it was an acknowledgement of the dominant looking down and nodding carelessly to the dominated.
Akai Shūichi narrowed his eyes for a moment, and with his right hand on the steering wheel, something cold slipped out of his sleeve and landed in his hand.
It was a pair of silver handcuffs.
The handcuffs clashed gently, and there was a crisp metallic clink, "Click."
The sound was not loud, but Akai Shūichi was suddenly startled.
The black car stalled for a moment in another turn as if the network was loading badly, and almost crashed into the road, twisting hard to make the turn.
Akai Shūichi's brow furrowed as he didn't catch something fleeting, yet existential, but subconsciously blurted out his name for Ichijō Mirai: "'Messiah'!"
"What is your relationship with 'Satan'?"