One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The curly-haired man frowned, opening his mouth to say something to break this eerie silence—
The eyes that had been lowered as if in avoidance slowly lifted, as if catching his movement, their upturned corners naturally carrying a hint of silent amusement. The mask muffled his voice, making it sound somewhat dull, yet it was still a voice Jinpei Matsuda was not unfamiliar with.
Then he heard the man before him speak gently: "I am Midorikawa Akihiko, sent here to clean up the scene. Is there anything you need me to do, Matsuda-sama?"
Jinpei Matsuda suddenly shuddered, nearly dropping the sunglasses he had been fiddling with in his hand.
The curly-haired youth instinctively straightened up and took two steps back, but the other's lightly rising tone still echoed in his ears.
Thus, a bewildered sound escaped from his throat.
"Huh?"
"Do you need me to repeat it?" Morofushi Akihiko said with a smile in his eyes.
"No, wait?" Jinpei Matsuda processed this for a moment before suddenly noticing the key word in the conversation: "…Midorikawa?"
"Yes?"
The curly-haired youth's face, unobscured by sunglasses, displayed an unmistakable expression of "What's gotten into you?" without any attempt to hide it.
They knew each other.
Of course—how could Jinpei Matsuda not know Morofushi Akihiko?
But.
Not here.
The codename Scotch should not have appeared in Jinpei Matsuda's mouth.
Upon hearing that complaining click of the tongue, Morofushi Akihiko was momentarily dazed.
The next moment, he saw that familiar face—completely undisguised, its expression shifting because of him—saw… a life that should have vanished in an explosion, appearing before him once again.
Vivid and full of life, carrying the spirited confidence unique to young people of this age.
A face almost indistinguishable from four years ago, when he had last seen him heading toward his end.
Angry?
Sad?
In pain?
Morofushi Akihiko's breathing beneath the mask felt heavy, but the words he spoke remained clear.
He said with a smile: "The scene has been cleaned up. Do you have any further orders?"
Jinpei Matsuda was not foolish; in fact, he was among the most perceptive of people. He shouldn't have failed to notice lies or probing from others.
But he had encountered Morofushi Akihiko.
He could see the amusement and familiar teasing in those eyes, so naturally, he wouldn't consider other possibilities.
The mask and hood concealed most of the young man's face before him, but they also highlighted those upturned blue eyes as he lifted his head.
After a brief moment of stunned silence, Jinpei Matsuda immediately grasped the answer implied by the name the other had spoken—the answer Morofushi Akihiko wanted him to misunderstand.
"Ah… so you disappeared for two years to do this kind of thing?" Jinpei Matsuda's mind was too agile, following the direction Morofushi Akihiko had hinted at.
"But there's no one else here…" Jinpei Matsuda looked around curiously.
Using a false name, yet still recognizing him, barely hiding anything, addressing him with an overly exaggerated and theatrical "sama," straightforwardly indicating his status as a low-level member, coupled with the fact that the other had vanished without a trace for two years.
So it was quite simple to analyze—this guy had gone undercover somewhere, only to be tossed back by the opposing organization, forcing him to start over as a newcomer using a disguised identity.
As for why he insisted on addressing him this way even when no one was around and there was no need for pretense, Jinpei Matsuda rubbed his arm, which had just broken out in goosebumps from the chill, and muttered quietly, "What a twisted sense of humor."
But come to think of it—recalling what Morofushi Akihiko had just said.
"Before the Soshiki arranges anything for you, for now, you're just Midorikawa?" Jinpei Matsuda's eyes lit up, and he commanded without hesitation, "Then you'll follow me these next two days."
This was a rare opportunity to boss Scotch around—he couldn't let it slip away!
Moreover, given that the other hadn't directly resumed his identity as Scotch yet, his actions could even be considered as helping Kei Midorikawa "infiltrate" the upper ranks of the Soshiki.
Scotch should even thank him for it.
Meeting Jinpei Matsuda's bright eyes and enthusiastic demeanor, Morofushi Akihiko lowered his gaze slightly and replied softly, "Understood."
Jinpei Matsuda was a man of action. After saying this, he made a call and had "Kei Midorikawa" transferred from the lower ranks to serve as his personal driver.
The curly-haired young man sat in the back seat of the car, legs crossed, typing messages on his phone to someone while giving an address and ordering Morofushi Akihiko to drive him there.
Only when they reached the destination did Jinpei Matsuda, who had spent the entire ride either typing messages with his head down or resting with his eyes closed, glance at the rearview mirror. Through the reflection, he met the other's blue eyes and spoke lazily, "I don’t have any missions these next two days, so I’ll mostly be here."
"Since I’m too lazy to go out, you can help me buy… Wait, can you cook? Why don’t you just cook for me instead." Jinpei Matsuda had a sudden flash of inspiration, cutting off his own words as if remembering something.
"Hmm?" Morofushi Akihiko sat in the driver's seat, fingers still resting on the steering wheel. His hood was down, but the mask remained firmly on his face.
Hearing that muffled, emotionless syllable, Jinpei Matsuda felt an inexplicable pang of guilt and averted his gaze. "It’s all because that jerk keeps bragging about how well you cook…"
Before he could finish, Jinpei Matsuda realized something was off—why should he feel guilty? Was there anything wrong with bossing Kei Midorikawa around? Absolutely not!
He was just a low-ranking member, after all.
As for whether Scotch held grudges… well, he was the one who started this game.
Jinpei Matsuda immediately finalized the order: "I want curry."
"…" Morofushi Akihiko replied softly, "Alright."
"Does your current safe house have a kitchen? What ingredients are in the fridge?" Morofushi Akihiko asked casually.
Then he met Jinpei Matsuda's eyes.
Morofushi Akihiko: "…"
"Understood. I’ll bring my own ingredients."
He said with a smile, "Lord Matsuda."
Jinpei Matsuda: "…"
Jinpei Matsuda felt goosebumps rising on his skin again.
He suddenly wondered if his flash of inspiration had been such a good idea after all.
"Will you poison it?" Jinpei Matsuda asked.
"If that’s the service you require," Morofushi Akihiko replied.
The next day, Jinpei Matsuda had just heard his stomach growl when the doorbell rang. After finishing the curry delivered to his door, he watched Scotch naturally collect the dishes to wash them.
He felt his idea couldn't have been more correct.
Scotch had a very good temper. Although his childhood friend's personality was quite troublesome, getting along with Scotch was truly comfortable.
Since he claimed to be Kei Midorikawa, he genuinely acted under that identity—never saying too much, never asking too much, every conversation perfectly measured. Matsuda had been sleeping two hours more than usual these past two days.
Regarding this, Matsuda expressed considerable regret: "Why can't you really just be Midorikawa?"
Having spent two days extracting Matsuda's codename, his own status and position, and general interpersonal relationships from their conversations and surrounding probes—a display of great professionalism—Morofushi Akihiko replied: "Then I wouldn't possibly be here."
Matsuda thought for a moment: "True."
Matsuda tacitly acknowledged Morofushi as Scotch, so he harbored no strong inclination to conceal Soshiki information. In his eyes, Scotch would already know these things.
He was also a Daigou Kaiin, though not part of the Koudou-gumi but rather the research and development division—an exceptionally skilled technician.
Morofushi wasn't particularly surprised. Although Matsuda excelled at boxing, possessed formidable martial skills, and had a strong personality, his true passion had always been disassembly and assembly. His talent in this area was top-tier.
He was a genius who, even before graduating from the police academy, had been noticed by the technical department and invited to join the bomb disposal squad.
Morofushi realized his frequency of zoning out had increased somewhat recently. He blinked, pulling his thoughts back to the present.
Matsuda claimed he would order him around, but in reality, he never truly demanded anything significant—mostly simple, minor tasks like conveniently picking up some component for him.
Aside from the unexpected circumstances of their first meeting, Matsuda carried almost none of the aura typical of a Soshiki member, focusing solely on his hobbies. He would delight in assembling a new model, yet also become upset because…
Sitting in the driver's seat, Morofushi glanced toward the curly-haired young man walking in his direction from not far away, tilting his head slightly.
The weather had turned rather cold lately. Matsuda casually wore a long down jacket, his expression blank, yet from a distance, one could immediately sense the accumulated anger and displeasure radiating from him.
Morofushi swept his eyes over the place Matsuda had just exited—a Soshiki bar specifically for Daigou Kaiin to socialize and rest… Had he clashed with someone inside?
Matsuda coldly got into the car. The tightly shut window and the heavily slammed door the next moment perfectly conveyed this technician's negative emotions.
Morofushi pretended not to hear the vicious grinding of teeth.
With that much force, wouldn't dentures shatter?
Morofushi continued adhering to the "Kei Midorikawa" persona, quietly playing his role as the driver without uttering any unnecessary words.
During this period, he had managed to probe for information simply by leveraging the advantage of the enemy being in the open while he remained hidden—no one could possibly imagine that within this body, a soul (or perhaps something else) had been swapped.
However, Jinpei Matsuda was more perceptive than anyone. For a short while, it was fine—he might overlook certain details due to the passage of time and the distance in their relationship. But if things went any deeper under the current circumstances, probing into matters that shouldn’t be touched upon now, it would only provoke a backlash from Matsuda, who had been relatively friendly so far.
This would make him aware of the inconsistencies he hadn’t noticed before.
Morofushi Akihiko stepped on the brakes and said, “We’re here.”
Matsuda didn’t get out of the car immediately. Instead, he stared at him through the rearview mirror.
Akihiko had been driving for about half an hour.
But instead of calming down over time, Matsuda’s emotions had only intensified, racing in another direction.
Was there something here that kept fueling Matsuda’s emotions?
Meeting the gaze hidden behind sunglasses in the rearview mirror, Akihiko hesitated for a moment.
…Could it be that I’m the catalyst?
“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Matsuda’s voice was calm.
“So, what happened?” Akihiko took the opportunity to ask.
“Hah.” A scoff escaped the curly-haired young man’s throat, followed by words dripping with sarcasm: “Then why don’t you ask that two-faced, unscrupulous friend of yours who relies on his looks to deceive people and act all mysterious? The Jouhou-gumi is really lucky to have him.”
Akihiko: “…”
Akihiko: “…”