There are moments when Akai Shūichi will fight.
But that doesn't mean he's a brainless fool who fights back when he's got a gun pressed against his stomach.
And even if he did, it wouldn't be at a time when he was being urged to 'fight'.
Akai Shūichi let go of his left hand, his right hand still hanging at his side, while his left hand was slowly raised in a sign of surrender, "You're carrying a gun."
He explains lightly why he stopped and why he didn't fight back, his thoughts turning rapidly to.
The abdomen was a vulnerable spot, but unlike the head or the heart, there was some chance of surviving a shot.
And they were close enough that he could have tried to grab the gun when he had the chance.
Another thing is that Ichijō Mirai didn't make any movement with the gun when he approached...
Was it really a gun that was pressed against Akai Shūichi's abdomen?
The most important thing is: Ichijō Mirai's physical skills are not good.
Akai Shūichi realized it.
He was certain that, given the right opportunity, in a cramped car, at such close range, even if Ichijō Mirai had a real gun ready to fire, even if it was aimed at his head, heart, and abdomen, given the right opportunity, he would be able to take him down without a hitch.
Given the right opportunity.
That's why his tactical hands-up surrender was smooth, without a hint of reluctance.
Ichijō Mirai smiles, "Yes, I brought my gun."
He used his left hand to feel out the gun Akai Shūichi was carrying, tucked one leg into the window, hooked the door open with his toes, stomped on the inside of the window, and stomped on the door, "Where are the handcuffs?"
Akai Shūichi paused, not asking how Ichijō Mirai knew he was carrying a gun and handcuffs, but simply lowered his left hand, took out the handcuffs with his left hand and handed them over.
Ichijō Mirai got into the passenger seat and said in a casual tone, "Give me your hand."
There were two clicks in quick succession, one from Akai Shūichi's left wrist and the other from the car window.
Akai Shūichi was stunned, and, distracted from his tense concentration on Ichijō Mirai, he subconsciously sniffed at the sound and looked at the plain-looking silver handcuffs.
He was distracted.
Now, if only Ichijō Mirai had taken the opportunity to open the passenger door, he could have easily slipped away and left Akai Shūichi in the wrecked car.
Instead, Ichijō Mirai kept his right hand on Akai Shūichi's abdomen and never moved his gun.
Akai Shūichi didn't look out for Ichijō Mirai's escape, and looked at his cuffed hand from the moment the handcuffs clicked with an ear-splitting, yet familiar, sound that sounded like a signal.
An inexplicably familiar feeling spread...
There was no source, no destination, and for a moment Akai Shūichi seemed to think of a few fleeting speculations of inspiration, none of which he could grasp, something familiar and yet something unfamiliar.
Looking at it, he couldn't think of it, couldn't catch those flashes, as if he could only scratch the itch, and it made him a bit agitated.
Now was not the time to be impulsive.
Akai Shūichi could only bear it with difficulty, wrinkling his brow in confusion.
The sound of the safety being turned off came from the passenger seat, and he looked over to see Ichijō Mirai, who had already turned off the safety of his gun, leaving it in a ready-to-fire state.
Not only had Ichijō Mirai turned off the safety, but he was holding the gun in his left hand against Akai Shūichi's forehead, "What's the matter, didn't think handcuffs would be used on you, Mr. FBI?"
His right hand, which had been pressed against Akai Shūichi's abdomen, was withdrawn, and it was empty, not to mention traces of a pistol, not even traces of any object, just the hand.
Just now, he had clenched his hand and pretended to be at gunpoint, realizing that Akai Shūichi was only a resolute person who would fight and give in, not a really sick, crazy person who would do whatever he wanted at gunpoint.
It's a brilliant psychological game.
But Akai Shūichi was a little out of sorts, and he didn't care about Ichijō Mirai's empty stash, he cared about the empty wrist.
His eyes fell on the uncuffed wrist, and his brow furrowed and pressed down a bit, forming a harsh arc.
A good police officer is perceptive.
Perhaps it was for this reason that, as if the sudden "click" of the handcuffs had brought about a flash of inspiration, an unbelievable speculation suddenly appeared in Akai Shūichi's mind: 'Messiah' and 'Satan' were more than just ordinary enemies, but even more so, they were more than just ordinary companions.
On top of 'enemy' and 'companion', they have a more intimate relationship, a relationship that can turn the tide in a critical moment.
What kind of relationship?
The answer almost came to him, but it didn't, he couldn't think of it, he could only speculate.
Messiah's desperate search for Satan is not just about killing him, it's about...
To make sure he's okay.
Akai Shūichi narrowed his eyes.
Ichijō Mirai noticed where Akai Shūichi's eyes fell.
He moved his left hand in mid-air and apologized, seemingly apologetically, but provocatively, "Sorry, I don't actually have a gun,"
"But I do now."
Akai Shūichi's gun.
To prevent fingerprints, Ichijō Mirai wore black leather gloves, open-fingered, with brown Band-Aids on the exposed fingers.
His hands had lost their normal warmth in the cold air of the half-hour-long, high-speed drive, and had become cold and stiff enough to be clenched tightly to mimic the muzzle of a gun.
Ichijō Mirai moved his hand a few more times, deliberately exaggerating it as if he were comparing shadows, not paying much attention to Akai Shūichi's fixed gaze on his hand, and even made a point of giving a friendly smile, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Ah, yes, I remember."
He casually touched Akai Shūichi's ID as if it were his own, waved the FBI logo on the outside of the ID, and said in a serious manner, "Hello, the FBI is on the case, and I ask for your cooperation in investigating the case, Mr. Akai."
"In that case, you should cooperate with me a bit, right?"
Akai Shūichi didn't say anything.
It's normal to be angry and depressed after being tricked by the empty-handed man.
But what's not normal is that on Akai Shūichi's face, Ichijō Mirai didn't see the icy expression and murderous eyes that he had expected, his expression was calm and thoughtful, he wasn't angry, and when he realized that it wasn't a pistol that was pressed against his abdomen, but a pistol, he only frowned.
There's not enough feedback, and it looks like there's more to come...
Ichijō Mirai studied Akai Shūichi's expression for a few seconds, and cautiously decided to stop, shaking his head with a seemingly helpless, "Well, Mr. Akai, a dedicated citizen, seems to be cooperating."
"Never mind then, time is running out, I won't punish you," he handed the ID back to Akai Shūichi, "Your FBI men will be here soon, I should be leaving,"
But instead of handing it over, or shoving it back the way it came, he tapped Akai Shūichi on the side of his face with the back of his ID.
Knowing that this guy was fighting for dominance, was not wanting to be dominated like Inuo, Ichijō Mirai still put on a smile, as if he was treating Inuo in front of a hotel, his tone was patient and gentle, with a somewhat condescending nastiness, "If you cooperate, I'll consider you."
It was the attitude of a careless pet.
Akai Shūichi's eyebrows jumped, and his eyes finally went cold.
Satisfied, Ichijō Mirai slapped his face again lightly, "Bye-bye."
He held the gun against Akai Shūichi's forehead, and only exited the car with it after opening the door with his other hand.
Akai Shūichi glanced at the handcuffs and didn't move.
As he waved the passenger door closed, Ichijō Mirai said coldly, "But you're a bit sick, and I have a reasonable suspicion that you're going to bite and decide to see the others again."
"If Ms. Jodie is not to my liking, I'll work with you again."
Translation: You're not the first choice, you're the second choice.
"Bye-bye."