In the morning, the sun rises above the horizon and lights up New York.
It also illuminated New York's briefly lit and quickly extinguished apartments, spreading the morning light unevenly over the traffic, with pedestrians and cars hurrying to and fro, pausing only briefly at stoplights.
Ichijō Mirai stopped in front of the FBI branch, his eyes swiveling idly as he surveyed his surroundings, his mood subtle: ...why are you back at the FBI again?
He understood the reasoning, and the sweet cooperation with the FBI was even facilitated by himself, but he had started working...
Forget it, it's just a game. Just think of it as legitimizing 'FBI, open up', so that the next time it comes out of his mouth, he doesn't have to change it mid-sentence, and he can say it with a straight face.
Besides, if he was three times reluctant, the FBI was seven times reluctant, right?
Ichijō Mirai's slight reluctance was immediately swept away and energized by the thought of the reluctance of the melon he had forced himself to swallow.
He took one last look at the street and stepped inside the branch.
Someone was already waiting inside the door, Akai Shūichi stood with a document in his hand and was looking at it with his head hanging down, he looked pale and wore a wristwatch with a red dot on it.
It was a special wristwatch that acted as a locator and walkie-talkie, and within a certain range, the locator wristwatch and the special device could check each other's real-time location and contact each other.
The special device is a work cell phone issued to Ichijō Mirai by the FBI.
Apparently, this is a kind FBI agent who is friendly to his colleagues and willing to act as a mentor NPC, waiting for his new colleagues to start work.
But for those who don't know, he's the God of Door.
All of the FBI's passers-by give him a look, and most of them greet him in a nice tone of voice as they pass by.
Before the airport operation, many of the New York Division's FBI knew Akai Shūichi and his ability, and many of them didn't know him but had heard of him or had heard something from their peers after receiving the order, but after the airport operation, almost all of them knew Mr. Shūichi, who had been parachuted in as an important operation leader. Mr. Agent.
However, since the airport operation had come and gone so suddenly and obviously failed, the FBI's impression of the parachuted-in chief was...
Ichijō Mirai saw a middle-aged brunette FBI agent greet him politely, walk a few steps away from his companion, and then wink and gesticulate, sticking his tongue out and making faces.
He danced around so well that even a passing FBI agent could easily tell that he had someone on top of Cricket Akai Shūichi, and that the eccentric son of a bitch had failed miserably in his mission.
Apparently, most people's default 'Mr. Akai is quite powerful' is still no match for the 'airborne mission leader', easily evoking the resentment of many FBI officers, which manifests itself in the form of crickets behind the back.
Unfortunately, there was glass on the first floor.
Even more unfortunately, the glass reflects Mr. FBI's happy dance.
Even more unfortunately, Akai Shūichi saw it.
He looked unchanged and unaware, only looking down at his wristwatch after reading the file, then looking up and meeting Ichijō Mirai's eyes.
The folder is black.
Ichijō Mirai walked over to him, turned his work phone around, looked first at the FBI agent who had already left wagging his tail and licking the crickets behind his back, then at the folder in Akai Shūichi's hand, and politely inquired, "May I ask if you're going to write down the name of that idiot gentleman in the dangerous black book you're holding, and then calmly step over his corpse to go back to the office and have a cup of coffee?"
"Then please retaliate slowly, he's still in the elevator, the body will get stuck in the elevator, and I don't want to climb the stairs, thank you."
Akai Shūichi: "..."
What does that mean?
There's no need to decipher the translation, one fact is obvious: Ichijō Mirai is flirting.
It's so bad that even if you can't translate the details of his attack, you'll instantly understand that you're being attacked, and you'll bleed from the sound of his voice.
Akai Shūichi was used to it.
"Okay, we'll take the elevator up, the straight elevator." Without changing his expression, he handed the folder to Ichijō Mirai and waved the elevator card, "These are the alternates you approved yesterday, they'll be ready to start the day after tomorrow at the latest, today at the earliest."
Wow.
No waiting for the straight elevator, just swipe your card and you're on your way.
Ichijō Mirai has also skimmed through the folder as he enters the elevator, and he doesn't stop at Date Wataru's page, blurting out Ichijō Mirai-style banter without blinking, "You're not mad at me for that? You've got a nice temper, you're an elegant and decent gentleman."
"But I think you were funnier when we first met, when you were still a fierce, fierce man."
Like all geese who have been in society for a while and started to mature, Akai Shūichi, who at first would have stared at the mere smell of mint shower gel, now stood with Ichijō Mirai in a narrow, unavoidable elevator without a look on his face.
That's maturity.
A maturity generously produced by the Ichijō Mirai brand of ripening agent.
The man in question didn't seem to have the slightest bit of self-awareness, Akai Shūichi glanced over, but still didn't have a negative look on his face, instead he smiled vaguely, "You mean that FBI man, or what you said?"
He didn't wait for Ichijō Mirai to answer before continuing, "If it's the latter, I'm used to it, if it's the former..."
"I'm not angry, but I'm probably honored to be one of the 'second generation of failed parachute drops from unknown backgrounds' along with you."
Ichijō Mirai: "..."
Wait, what?
Running through the meaning of Akai Shūichi's words, a question mark popped up and he looked over in confusion, "What does it have to do with me?"
He never showed up!
What's this 'uneducated second-generation parachute failure'? At most, it's 'the unfortunate second-generation who was forcibly taken back to the FBI, imprisoned in the command room to count the number of people and sent out to work as a laborer'!
"I can't help it, gossip is out of control once it spreads," Akai Shūichi unfurled his eyebrows into a not-at-all-polite smile, and repeated, "I'm honored to be compared to you."
"So don't be offended."
Anyway, before long, the gossip would vanish, twisting and screaming like a ghost that's seen the sun.
Akai Shūichi believed that Ichijō Mirai had the ability to solve problems, and Akai Shūichi believed even more that Ichijō Mirai had the ability to hold a grudge against a gossipmonger for thirty or fifty years.
"Before I left for work today," He said, "I already went to church."
To pray for his coworkers who were about to be persecuted.
Ichijō Mirai: "..."
As always, the guy who can say 'please' without hesitation is shameless.
But: "Then, what about Jodie?"
Akai Shūichi can be so brazen as to ignore gossip, and even when he sees it with his own eyes, he doesn't change his face and knocks on a wooden fish for the person who spreads the rumor, but what about Jodie?
She's more of a human being than Ichijō Mirai and Akai Shūichi, so she's actually a human being, so she's not going to be waxing over her coworkers in advance, is she?
"The rumors don't include her," Akai Shūichi replies. "She faced rumors when she first joined the FBI, and her choice was to ask the person who talked about them the most to go one-on-one in the training room."
"After that, there were no more rumors about her within the FBI."
At least not the kind that's almost universal.
Because as human beings, people don't really want to take punches in the face.
Ichijō Mirai continued: "..."
Well... that's really the FBI's way of sliding to their knees quickly when faced with a forceful person, after all, it takes time for an intellect to get in the face, whereas a forceful person can physically get in the face in the next second.
For this very FBI sensible behavior, he could only comment, "You can't, Mr. Akai."
It's not even going to deter the FBI from stopping the rumors!
The elevator made a crisp beep and slowly opened after a 'ding'.
As soon as the doors opened, Akai Shūichi nodded to Ichijō Mirai with an open, "Well, I don't believe it."
And he thanked him in advance, "Thank you."
Before he could say anything else, he quickly stepped out of the elevator.
Ichijō Mirai glanced at the elevator's display, squelched the thought that popped into his head, "Let's find a way to get the elevator down and mess with this guy," and followed him out as if nothing had happened, "You're welcome, since we're both caught up in untrue rumors and gossip, I'm sure I'll be able to help out."
"Don't worry, soon, this false rumor will disappear from the FBI."
There will be new gossip to dispel it.
Just like the Organization, from the first day of Ichijō Mirai's official operation, there were no more false rumors of 'this officer's son is kind', and if there were, they only existed in his own mouth.
He smiled back at Akai Shūichi, who was quick to talk and quick to run, "I can't promise you how he disappeared, except to say, "You're welcome."
The elevator went straight to the upper floors, the corridors here were much more sophisticated than the first floor, sort of office lounges and conference rooms, the elevator was directly opposite a lounge area, a dozen or so FBI were sitting on the sofa and chatting, they seemed to be taking advantage of the breakfast time to talk about the case, or perhaps taking advantage of the time to talk about the case to catch a fish to solve the breakfast.
Unfortunately for the FBI, the case on their minds is the airport incident.
Ichijō Mirai's ears are sharp, and he hears the words 'Akai guy', 'green-eyed guy', 'unpleasant cat's eyes', 'white-haired bastard', etc..
...
"Wait a minute," he inquired slowly as his steps slowed and he gazed at the system's resident prompt in his field of vision, 'Forget the previous ones, 'white-haired scumbag', is that about me?"
First of all, how does a New Yorker come up with such a neonized curse word?
Secondly, calling Akai Shūichi 'cat's eyes' is a cute, character-expressive term, but calling him 'white-haired scumbag'?!
And lastly: he's not white-haired!
He's blonde! He dyed it blond!!!!!
It should have been blonde scumbag!
Isn't this obviously un-New York trash talk really a personal thing? That's not the point of dyeing your hair!
Up ahead, Akai Shūichi notices that Ichijō Mirai's pace has slowed, and turns around, "What's wrong?"
Turning his head again, he followed Ichijō Mirai's line of sight to the sofa.
His hearing was still in the realm of normal, so he didn't hear the mosquito-like murmuring, but he saw the excited expressions on the faces of the FBI men who were obviously chatting about gossip, and the instant they looked over, they immediately looked flustered and composed, and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "Not working?"
The FBI immediately picked up breakfast, humble smile like a tail wagging, dispersed in a flurry.
Thirteen in all.
Ichijō Mirai took careful note of their faces, making a memo: find a way to fix them.
At least let them know what an elegant platinum color is.
Akai Shūichi waited until the last of the FBI slipped out of view, making sure he wouldn't be held accountable for interrupting the great Savior's classmates' grudges, before speaking, "Our office is this way."
Their office was at the far end of the corridor, quite large, a group office with workstations for about a dozen people.
In the far corner, a lanky new FBI man who looked to be in his late thirties sat silently in the corner, none of the FBI men paying much attention to the elevator; he was the first to spot Akai Shūichi and Ichijō Mirai, and when he did he stood up nervously, like many new FBI men do when they're young and nervous, and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he called out the title, "Mr. Messiah."
Only after a few seconds did he add, "Mr. Akai."
It was like facing a debtor on New Year's Eve.
Although he didn't know when or where the debt was incurred, as soon as he met Ichijō Mirai and was given a quiet stare, Date Wataru realized in a second that the big-hearted Mr. Savior was holding a grudge.
It's over.
Date Wataru looks like a debtor who owes 300 million dollars out of nowhere, while Ichijō Mirai looks like a debtor who looks kind and gentle but can actually swallow the debtor's bones in one gulp without even looking at him, and he nods and smiles, "Good morning."
Good morning, I've got a few more guys to memo today, it's been a great day.
^ ^
"...He's one of the first to report," Akai Shūichi paused, taking his eyes off Ichijō Mirai's smiling demeanor, and started with a brief introduction of Date Wataru, but didn't give out a last name, or a first name, or say how he'd like to be addressed by Ichijō Mirai, and just mentioned it as if he were finished, and began to speak on the The second topic, "The information on the serial murder case has been sent over."
He found a thick folder on one of the desks, "The person in question is a typical serial killer."
Typical in the sense that "all the victims have the same physical characteristics."
The same profile?
The moment he took it, Ichijō Mirai heard a system alert: "Important mission detected: 'Blonde Murderer'.
[Mission Details: Blonde hair, a color he hated, every time he saw it, it was as if he saw the instigator who caused him to fall into a miserable state and deserved to be cut to pieces, the fire of cynicism roasted his heart and blinded his eyes, and only when the blonde passed away did he find a brief moment of peace.]
[Mission Reward: ***]
[Ding! Please note that the quest reward will affect the 'game' to a certain extent.]
[Mission Hint: Rum.]