The steadily darkening evening could not hide the storm raging through Akai Shuichi’s mind at that moment.
For the first time, the sniper with exceptionally sharp eyesight found himself doubting what he had just seen.
...So his brilliant wunderkind junior, the miracle recruit who had earned a codename in three days, had not only dragged “the person he cared about” into the Black Organization’s line of sight, but had even held that person’s hand and toyed with suicide?
Akai Shuichi fell silent for another moment, then, drawing on his excellent undercover instincts, reflected on himself first.
—Could it be that he simply was not twisted or unstable enough, and that was why he seemed out of place among the Black Organization’s members?
After the two men had left one after the other, Akai Shuichi stood where he was and thought for a while. Then he turned around and left the troublesome place as well, his steps carrying a faint, inexplicable heaviness.
Once he got back to his safe house, Akai Shuichi went through his usual routine, checking the room for signs of intrusion, hidden surveillance devices, and anything else out of place. Only after confirming that the location was secure did he cautiously take out the phone he used to contact his FBI superior.
Akai Shuichi: Send me all of P’s detailed files.
P was obviously Palmer Gary, but during contact, neither side usually used the real names of their own people. They normally referred to them by code.
The moment Akai Shuichi recalled what he had just seen, he felt another headache coming on. He continued typing.
Akai Shuichi: From the moment he joined the FBI. Preferably from before that too. If any part is classified beyond my clearance, you can leave it out. Quickly.
James: ......
Your superior did not know how to respond, so he started by sending six dots.
James: All of his files are classified. I do not have the authority to look into them either. Everything you are allowed to know, you already know... the FBI’s all-purpose wunderkind, capable of sniping from over one thousand yards, proficient in disguise, close-quarters combat, performance and deception, and an entire list of other skills.
James: I have even heard confirmed internal reports that he once went off to race a few times just because he had nothing better to do, and the manager of the racing club came over crying and begging repeatedly, saying that a talent like that ought to be shining on the track...
James seemed to have been sitting beside the communicator the entire time, because his replies came back with startling speed.
James: In short, there is a saying that has been circulating inside the FBI for the past two years about P: there is nothing he cannot do, only things you have not thought of yet.
Akai Shuichi: ? Is it really that exaggerated??
Of course, words like that could not be believed one hundred percent, but they still revealed from the side just how frightening the man’s abilities were...
Someone who could make an organization as full of elites as the FBI sincerely accept a conclusion like that was not someone to be underestimated from any angle.
And that line about everything being classified...
Actually, quite a lot had already been revealed.
Akai Shuichi’s fingers moved quickly over the keys, briefly explaining what he had seen today before asking the question at the heart of it all.
Akai Shuichi: So is P’s current mental state actually fine? Are we certain he has not turned against the FBI?
James: ......
James did not know, and James was also deeply shocked.
He quickly passed this news along to Palmer’s direct superior, successfully giving the man another near-heart attack. Then, with a grave expression, he thought:
—So it was not that some outsider had lured away their elite...
No matter how he looked at it, the situation sounded much more like their own pig had been scheming to root up someone else’s cabbage. And apparently this was happening while the other party was already sick of it (?).
James sighed inwardly. Could it be that the boy could not even pull off the FBI’s traditional honey trap skills...?
Then he replied to Akai.
James: We are now aware of his situation. We will contact you if needed. Continue your infiltration, and send over everything you learn about Blue Hawaii in detail, including exactly what he has done. The more comprehensive, the better.
Akai Shuichi: Understood.
He turned off the communicator.
...How should he put it?
That instruction actually had something oddly similar to the codename qualification task Palmer had assigned to Midorikawa Hikaru and Amuro Tooru, did it not?
He pushed the thought aside and once again directed all of his attention back toward the rational demands of the mission.
—As for whether Palmer Gary could be trusted, he would assess that personally.
*
On the other side.
Hawaii hummed an unrecognizable tune as he casually parked the car.
Of course, what counted as “casually parking” in his eyes was already textbook-perfect drift parking.
The tall, handsome man stepped out of the car and casually tossed the keys behind him. The low-ranking member who had already hurried over upon seeing the person in the driver’s seat quickly caught them, only to hear the man’s absentminded yet perpetually smiling voice.
“The car is yours. Take good care of her.”
“T-thank you, Lord Blue Hawaii!”
The lower-ranking member froze for a moment, then naturally bowed repeatedly in gratitude toward the man’s retreating back.
So this newly inducted codename member had this kind of personality?
He seemed easier to approach, relatively speaking... and even his appearance was that stunningly charming.
Without realizing it, some invisible scale in his heart tilted ever so slightly.
Still, was this lord injured...?
...If only he could be of more help to him.
Palmer, or perhaps it was more appropriate now to call him Fick or Blue Hawaii, walked into the Organization’s base with a spring in his step.
The blood on his neck looked as though it had only just begun to clot. Even the collar of his white shirt was still blooming with red stains. Paired with the delighted smile on his face and his polished, elegant bearing, it produced a kind of dangerous yet deeply magnetic allure.
It was enough to make Vermouth, who also happened to be in the base at the time, open her mouth with clear amusement the instant she saw him.
“Cool. Who hurt our Blue Hawaii?”
Blue Hawaii smiled faintly and methodically straightened his clothes.
He looked even more like a refined scoundrel that way.
In a tone that was almost gentle, he said, “You have seen him.”
“Oh?”
“—In a photograph.” He gestured lightly at his neck, the curve of his mouth unchanged. “Ah, of course... I was holding his hand.”
Blue Hawaii blinked. “Unless I wish it, no one can hurt me.”
Once he finished speaking, he ignored the complicated look that crossed the blonde woman’s face for that brief instant. He stepped forward with perfect courtesy, opened the meeting room door for her, and said like a gentleman, “Ladies first.”
Judging only by their looks and bearing, Blue Hawaii and Vermouth seemed better suited to appearing together at the Academy Awards than here— though, to be fair, Vermouth really had appeared there before.
Inside, Gin had already finished one cigarette. His icy gaze swept across the two of them before finally settling on the wound at Hawaii’s neck.
“Explain.”
Before Hawaii could even open his mouth, Vermouth had already let out a soft laugh and, with a hint of suggestion, said, “He has his own tastes, Gin. That is hardly your concern.”
Chianti, off to the side, blurted out, “Huh? What??”
Gin merely met those amber eyes steadily for a moment before saying, “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”
Even his voice was laced with unrelenting cold. “Of everyone assigned to this operation, the two of you arrived last.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Hawaii only lifted a brow, then found a comfortable place to sit before replying, “Where are Midorikawa Hikaru and Amuro Tooru? I remember they were supposed to be here too.”
There were quite a lot of people in this operation, enough to show just how seriously the Organization was taking it.
Gin, Vodka, Vermouth, Korn, and Chianti, plus Midorikawa Hikaru and Amuro Tooru, who still had not received codenames but were already being heavily used, made for a lineup that could only be called luxurious.
Gin let out a mocking laugh. “Them? They just happened to run into the target you requested—”
He did not finish the sentence, but the meaning was already perfectly clear.
“Oh~ I see.”
The man tilted his head slightly as though considering something, one hand pressing lightly against the wound at his neck.
The wound, which had only just finished clotting, immediately began to bleed again. Yet the man seemed completely incapable of feeling pain. He only smiled at Gin, thoughtful and serene.
“That is fine. As long as they are present at the operation site, that is enough~ Oh, and~”
Every sentence Blue Hawaii spoke now seemed to trail upward at the end like a wavering little flourish. The pressure of the hand against his neck increased slightly.
“Add Rye Whiskey as well~? Of course, he does not have to do anything.”
“—I simply want to show off a little in front of my senior.”
A sincere seriousness appeared on the man’s face. “I learned this from a... friend’s experience.”
He said, “If, during one’s first workplace activity, one completes the mission successfully in three minutes~ or perhaps thirty minutes? Then, most likely, one can expect a smooth and prosperous workplace life afterward.”
Under the assorted gazes of everyone in the room, Blue Hawaii smiled politely.
“Yes. In theory—this mission can be completed by me alone.”
It was almost as though he had come into the meeting room solely to throw down an absurdly arrogant declaration before leaving again, though at the very least his bearing was convincing.
“—It’s my show time.”
Gin raised a hand, stopping the question mark that was all but about to burst out of Chianti’s mouth. The top killer’s lips curved into a cruel smile touched by interest.
“I am curious. Who exactly gave you that confidence?”
“Hawaii Trade School, sir.”
Before turning to leave, Hawaii gave him a smile full of hidden meaning.
“Believe me, one day—you will have dealings with it, indirectly, countless times.”
He bent slightly and executed a salute so impeccable it could not possibly have been more proper, yet the posture somehow made it feel as though he were the one receiving the bow, loftily superior.
An unreadable smile gleamed in his amber eyes.
“—Hawaii Trade School cordially invites you.”
*
At that very moment, elsewhere.
In front of the rental apartment, Yuki Mu and the two men across from him stared at one another.
Those emerald eyes, empty of any unnecessary emotion, swept the pair up and down once, as though they had seen straight through them from beginning to end.
“So you are the new neighbors?”
The young Public Security officer looked at the two men, who, in theory, could also be counted as his seniors. His tone remained indifferent.
“—Then I look forward to working with you.”