Chapter 21
The blank in the gun had been replaced with a live round!
This was attempted murder!
The hair on his cheek had been pierced by the bullet. The third male lead, having escaped death, collapsed to the floor, still in shock.
His legs were too weak to stand. He could only tilt his head back helplessly and watch as the dark-haired girl, her gun lowered, walked towards him step by step.
The acrid smell of gunpowder stole the third male lead’s breath. He opened his mouth like a fish gasping for air on its back, shouting in panic, “Spare- spare me! I’m begging you!”
His dry voice was filled with fear. In this moment, the third male lead wasn’t acting; it was all raw emotion.
Fan An, who had only been kindly trying to help him up after seeing him fall, was speechless. “…”
She wondered, Am I really that terrifying?
In the Mentor Observation Room, Hiromitsu Morofushi had to speak up to remind her, “The safety—the safety on your gun is still off.”
The girl only needed to move her finger, and the man paralyzed on the floor would become a corpse. How could he not be allowed to lie there, trembling like a noodle?
So that’s it. Fan An blew on the hot muzzle and, with a click, engaged the safety.
She looked at the third male lead again, expecting to see a look of relief, but instead, she only heard a loud “CUT!”
Director Kawamura stood up from behind the camera, his expression unusually ecstatic, his eyes shining like two giant lanterns.
“Did you two plan this script change yourselves?” Director Kawamura asked, his voice soft and gentle. “You deliberately didn’t tell me, wanting to give me a surprise, right?”
The third male lead looked as if he had seen a ghost.
Director Kawamura, a notoriously neurotic director in the industry, was demanding and strict with his work, rarely showing a pleasant face to his actors, and frequently chewed them out.
Given that this man was truly capable of the terrifying act of carrying a shovel to dig up a grave just to get a chosen actor’s contact information, no one dared to cause trouble or act like a diva on his set, let alone change the script without permission.
Is a gentle, sweet Director Kawamura even real? The third male lead was terrified. Who on earth has possessed Director Kawamura?
Director Kawamura didn’t care about the third male lead’s ghost-seeing face. He had no eyes for him at all, only for the scene that the camera had just recorded.
The wind from the recoil lifted her bangs. Behind the muzzle, the girl’s jet-black pupils narrowed into a fine point.
There was nothing in her eyes but extreme calm and the madness of a desperate gamble.
One second, Director Kawamura was questioning and dissatisfied with the deviated trajectory; the next, he was completely intoxicated by this madness.
It was too perfect. If this scene couldn’t be used in the final cut, he would die with regrets.
In the script, the third male lead was supposed to die by the gun, not escape death. His character was a reckless police officer, and Director Kawamura had used his death to pull back the crimson curtain for the mastermind’s entrance.
The third male lead was supposed to wrap up after this scene. The blond had once tried to add more scenes for himself, pestering Director Kawamura to give him more screen time, like maybe the mastermind didn’t kill him but turned him into a loyal dog, trembling with fear.
Director Kawamura had flatly refused. A development like that is too unconvincing. How could a reckless person be gripped by fear and easily turned after just one encounter? The audience would curse you to death!
“What do you mean, unconvincing?! Nonsense!” Director Kawamura cursed his past self. “You ignorant fool.”
Director Kawamura stared intently at the soul-shattered third male lead in the shot—his brokenness was about to burst out of the screen, shattered into a million pieces, every cell in his body crying and begging: Please, spare me, I’ll do anything!
What infectious acting! Director Kawamura couldn’t help but praise his own judgment. To think that the new third male lead he had recruited was also a hidden dragon!
Third Male Lead: “…”
Third Male Lead: “Is it possible that I actually almost died?”
He had thought the director called “cut” to come comfort him and call the police to investigate who had swapped the bullets. Who would have thought that Director Kawamura would praise him to the high heavens and then excitedly ask if he was willing to be the girl’s dog?
Then again, the good fortune of getting more scenes was not something to be passed up. The third male lead wiped his face. “…Fine.”
Director Kawamura was lost in his art, unable to extricate himself. Fortunately, the director’s assistant was still clear-headed.
The moment the assistant saw that a blank had been swapped for a live round and the third male lead had nearly been killed on set, he immediately called the police.
Fan An heard the approaching sirens. She stood up, as was her custom, ready to raise her hand when the police asked where the suspect was. “Me. Suspect An.”
The officers from the Nagano Prefectural Police Headquarters arrived quickly.
The older man was handsome and refined. His neatly trimmed mustache gave him an air of scholarly wisdom, and his deep blue suit accentuated his calm and serious demeanor.
“A pleasure to meet you. I am Morofushi Taka’aki,” he introduced himself.
Inspector Morofushi didn’t immediately ask where the suspect was. He put on white gloves and meticulously examined the handgun with the swapped bullet.
An’an, uncharacteristically denied the chance to say her usual line, felt quite unused to it, just like a certain elementary school detective who had to find an opportunity to say “Edogawa Conan, a detective” no matter what.
Unable to trigger her usual line, the girl secretly complained to her considerate Mentor Scotch in her mind. She rattled on and on, but received no response from Hiromitsu.
“Hm?” An’an patted her head, trying to reboot. “Hiro, did you crash?”
Hiromitsu stared blankly at his brother.
…It’s been a long time, Brother.
The dark-haired girl blinked.
Hiromitsu could only observe the outside world when An’an opened her external vision, and his every move in the ability’s space was faithfully reported back to its master by the ability.
“You look a lot alike,” she said. “You and this Inspector Morofushi.”
Hiromitsu was silent for a moment, then gave a soft “mhm.” “He is my… older brother.”
When he had first met An’an, Hiromitsu didn’t know who she was. He was worried about endangering his family and didn’t dare tell her his full name.
“My name is Hiromitsu Morofushi,” the cat-eyed young man paused, a little embarrassed. “‘Hiro’ is what my close family and friends call me.”
“If it’s alright with you,” he said seriously, “please continue to call me that, An’an.”
“‘Hiro,'” An’an repeated. “It sounds like ‘hero.'”
Since Hiromitsu had voluntarily given his name, it proved that their relationship had entered a new stage.
The question that had been in her heart for a long time could finally be asked.
“Mentor Scotch, your nickname sounds like ‘hero,’ which sounds bright and righteous. And your brother, Mr. Morofushi Taka’aki, is a police officer in Nagano, with the rank of inspector.”
“Why, then, are you in the Crime Mentor pool?”
An’an asked with a thirst for knowledge, “Did you join your former company because you were going through a rebellious phase?”
Why on earth would Mentor Scotch not join his promising older brother, and instead hang out with the futureless Silver-Haired Model Bro, Sunglasses Bodyguard Bro, and Twisted Deep-Closet Bro? She couldn’t figure it out!
Besides a rebellious phase, Fan An couldn’t find a second reason.
Hiromitsu: “…”
Hiromitsu: “…………”
He was in great pain. He couldn’t speak the truth. At this moment, a Public Security officer who had graduated from the police academy deeply hated the red side’s principle of secrecy.
An undercover identity must never be exposed… must not involve innocent people in the fake whisky dispute… reputation is an external thing…
Hiromitsu, trying his best to brainwash himself, showed an expression of someone facing death. He gritted his teeth and admitted, “Yes.”
“I was rebellious,” Hiromitsu said, closing his eyes.
Living… is truly too hard. —Scotch Whisky
An’an could see Hiromitsu’s longing for his brother. She was very relieved. “Who hasn’t been young and reckless? Being willing to admit you had a rebellious phase is progress. Mentor, you’ve grown up. You’re mature now.”
An’an’s parents had long since taken up permanent residence in heaven, but she had a good relationship with her cousin Hanzawa. She understood the value of family.
“Does Hiro want to meet his brother?” the girl suggested.
Hiromitsu’s first reaction was to refuse.
It was too dangerous. He had shot himself and destroyed his phone with his family and friends’ contact information precisely to protect them after his cover was blown.
Brother Taka’aki probably already knows about my death. My brother has finally accepted his younger brother’s death. What would he think if I suddenly appeared?
I can’t act on impulse…
Even if his entire chest was vibrating from the suggestion of a reunion, ringing in his ears, he couldn’t be selfish.
Hiromitsu heard a sigh.
“I say, Hiro,” An’an began. “Did you know that my control over the ability’s space is absolute?”
“I don’t need to ask for your opinion. As long as I want it, you have to come out.”
Her words were irrefutable, yet her voice was soft, very gentle and patient. “I’ll ask again. Does Hiro want to see his brother again?”
“…Yes.”
The girl smiled, her voice light and cheerful. “Then there’s no problem.”
She made a promise. “Leave everything to me. Trust me.”