Chapter 78
BANG, BANG, BANG!
Empty magazines clattered to the ground. The target was riddled with holes. The thick smell of gunpowder was almost suffocating, the air thick with the taste of cordite.
Vodka stood at the entrance of the shooting range, wringing his hands in distress.
Inside, the silver-haired man was exuding an aura of pure rage. No one in the entire base dared to step foot in the shooting range. The employees were either taking leave or feigning illness. The entire base had instantly become a ghost town.
In this moment of betrayal and abandonment, only Vodka had bravely stood up. He would follow his big brother to the death!
“Aniki, calm down,” Vodka said cautiously. “That little girl’s testimony doesn’t count for anything. Rum can’t possibly treat you as a traitor because of her one-sided story.”
“Even if she voluntarily entered the interrogation room, voluntarily put on a lie detector, and was tested to be telling the absolute truth; even if she was raised in the organization’s orphanage and had been brainwashed, and it’s impossible for her to betray the organization; even if she was once Aniki’s admirer and had no motive to frame you—Aniki could never be a traitor!”
For so many years, Vodka had seen Gin’s deep-seated hatred for moles with his own eyes. No one could throw dirty water on his big brother. His big brother was innocent!
To dare to frame Aniki! A bunch of heartless bastards! Tears almost welled up in Vodka’s eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses. He sniffed hard and looked up at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle.
“But this is the second time.”
A graceful female voice, its tone rising at the end. Vermouth stood beside Vodka, gazing at the furious Gin in the shooting range.
The mysterious blond woman twirled a lock of her curly hair around her finger and stated a fact. “The second time ‘Gin’ has committed an act of betrayal against the organization, and with conclusive evidence.”
One was a cruise ship smuggling case, the other was the Yoshijima Echiri kidnapping case. The former had physical evidence, the latter had a witness. Not to mention the black side, which could kill on suspicion alone, even the red side, which valued evidence, could quickly close the case.
Vermouth: “If Gin was framed, it proves that he has been set up by the same group of people twice.”
Completely powerless, unable to even get a clue as to who the suspect is, with no outlet for his anger, he can only rage impotently in the shooting range.
Vermouth hadn’t seen Gin this angry in a long time. The last person to have played him so badly was the defected Rye Whisky.
Who was it this time?
If it was another whisky, the fun would be immense.
Vermouth was just thinking. She didn’t actually suspect the whiskies. The remaining two whiskies in the organization were no pushovers. The people of the distillery had never forgotten the terror of being dominated by the body-double literature.
Vermouth had not participated in the cruise ship smuggling case. She had later obtained the video of ‘Gin’ entering the captain’s room and reporting himself, and had watched it in slow motion, frame by frame.
A flawless performance.
The restoration of the clothes and makeup was so perfect that even Kaito Kuroba’s father would have had to call him a master. Although the video couldn’t convey a scent, Vermouth would bet that this fake Gin had even used the same brand of shampoo that the real Gin used. The attention to detail made the thousand-faced witch feel ashamed.
Vermouth: Which brand of makeup is that? Can you send me a link?
After watching the video, Vermouth completely understood why Gin had ultimately chosen to jump into the sea to escape—he had no other choice!
Either he jumped into the sea naked and let the water wash him clean, or he waited for the coast guard to board the ship, and the big brother of the distillery would be surrounded by the police, wearing a sash that said “Tokyo’s Moving. Enthusiastic and Good Citizen, Fearless of Evil Forces, a Great Lord of the Blue Sky,” and take a photo with the coast guard crew, showing a standard eight-toothed smile.
Vermouth: That photo would be printed out by Pinga and plastered all over the organization’s base, as his phone wallpaper, computer wallpaper, a semi-permanent existence. Pinga would pay out of his own pocket to have it printed on badges, cards, polaroids, art boards, postcards, and every other kind of merchandise imaginable and unimaginable, for worldwide distribution.
Don’t forget, the Black Organization is a multinational criminal group. Its brothers and sisters are all over the world. Aniki’s exclusive handsome photo must be saved in the sticker library of every organization member.
Gin had preserved his innocence with the chaste act of jumping into the sea. Although Rum was quite dissatisfied with the mission failure, he had still given the distillery’s workhorse face and had let Gin repay the organization’s losses with overtime.
Vodka: LOL. Is that even a punishment?
Aniki is the distillery’s full-time beast of burden. Do you understand the weight of “full-time”? His shifts are already at their maximum.
The first time he was framed hadn’t hurt Gin much. After all, surveillance video can be faked. Who could prove that the Gin in the surveillance wasn’t someone else in disguise?
Vodka had used this logic to fiercely attack Pinga. Pinga had endured it with resentment.
“A disguise? What disguise?” After the fake Yoshijima Echiri had returned, Pinga had swept away his dejection and had slammed the table so hard it shook. “Do you know how hard she pulled on Gin’s face?”
Pinga had grabbed Vodka’s cheeks with both hands to demonstrate. “This—hard! Not to mention a disguise, even if it were plastic surgery, she would have pulled out the implants.”
The little spy had said that even when his face was stretched into a pancake, Aniki’s style was still intact, his handsome man’s hairstyle not messy at all.
Vodka: “That’s not Aniki either! It’s just someone who looks a lot like Aniki.”
Pinga: “Oh? You mean, the traitor isn’t Gin, but Gin’s cousin?”
This was also recorded in the million-dollar pentagram.
(T/N: A reference to a Detective Conan movie.)
Vodka: Nonsense! Aniki is an orphan! Do you understand “orphan”—ah, no, Aniki, I’m not cursing you. I don’t mean you’re not popular. You’ll always be my dearest, most beloved big brother.
If Vermouth hadn’t been one of the perpetrators of the Yoshijima Echiri kidnapping case, she would have been happy to see Pinga and Gin fight. A famous actress extends her life by watching men make a fool of themselves.
“Vermouth,” Gin said coldly. “If you hadn’t lost the target…”
A child kidnapped by the organization had been kidnapped a second time by an outside kidnapper. A great humiliation.
Vermouth also really wanted to know who had taken Yoshijima Echiri from under her nose.
Afterwards, she had tried to get the mall’s surveillance footage, but had found that a section had been cut.
“The police? No, a move by Public Security?” the blond woman murmured to herself.
The kidnapping case involved a Senior Superintendent. It was reasonable for Public Security to get involved.
No surveillance. Vermouth did not give up. She had other intelligence networks.
Countless pieces of information, some trivial, some useless, slid across the screen, reflecting the blond woman’s focused eyes.
Vermouth paused. Her mouse clicked on a blog post.
It was an ordinary user who recorded their daily life. The post was filled with a large amount of meaningless “aaaaaah” and “omg omg did I just see the real person? aaaaaah” excited vents.
To others, the words were confusing. But to Vermouth, whose cover identity was a famous actress, they hid important information.
The post was sent around the time of Yoshijima Echiri’s disappearance. The location was the same floor of the mall. Vermouth had been in disguise, so the “real person” mentioned in the post was not her.
As for who it was… the mouse moved to the user’s avatar and clicked into their homepage.
A hint of surprise flashed in the blond woman’s eyes.
“It’s her?”
The mouse scrolled. A familiar cruise ship appeared on the screen.
“The variety show on the cruise ship…” Vermouth said to herself. She remembered now. This episode was very famous, and it was very famous within the distillery.
Not only was it a rare public appearance for a certain someone, but it was also the occasion where everyone had witnessed the birth of a conceptual god.
“In other words, her shadow has appeared in both of the incidents where Gin was framed.”
On the surface, there was almost no connection. But the timing was too coincidental.
A carmine-colored fingertip lightly tapped her cheek. Sharon Vineyard dialed her agent’s number.
“The guest-star invitation that was sent before. I’ll accept it.”
…
“Heavens! This is great news!”
Director Ochi hung up the phone and paced back and forth on the set, ecstatic.
The dark-haired girl passed by him, cautiously keeping her distance from the director, who seemed to be on drugs.
“Teacher An’an!” Director Ochi suddenly turned his head. “You’ve come at the perfect time.”
Fan An: Usually, when someone says that, something is about to happen.
She sized up Director Ochi’s bald patch, which was wrapped like a pharaoh’s. Director, you’re very hard to kill.
A legendary, hard-to-kill king was right beside her.
Director Ochi was completely unaware that his life was being targeted. He said excitedly, “Someone I’ve always wanted to invite to guest-star in the movie has accepted the invitation. She’ll be here soon.”
A new character? Suspect An was solemn. “Is she the victim or the suspect?”
Director Ochi: “In the eyes of you Beika residents, is there no third category for people?”
There is. There’s still a detective. But the detective niche on the set has already been occupied by the undercover Public Security officer. A newcomer can only choose between being the victim and the suspect.
Miss An: To kill or be killed. That is a question.
“Even in Beika, after a case has occurred in the same place, there will be a period of safety,” Furuya said, tapping the girl’s forehead with his knuckle to make her put away the bloody, mosaic-filled fantasies in her mind.
“The new actor might just be an ordinary colleague.”
That’s right. An ordinary colleague.
Vermouth and Bourbon met on the set.
The blond woman raised an eyebrow in surprise, which then turned into a meaningful smile.
As if she hadn’t seen Bourbon, Vermouth walked straight to the dark-haired girl beside him.
“Yuko has mentioned you to me many times. She can’t stop praising you, little cutie.”
The glamorous actress gave An’an an intimate cheek-to-cheek greeting. As she spoke, her lipstick accidentally smudged on the girl’s cheek.
Who in the entertainment industry doesn’t know Sharon Vineyard? An’an’s aunt was a huge fan of hers. It was a rare opportunity. An’an had to get an autograph for her aunt, and it had to be a noble TO-signed one!
Vermouth readily agreed to the girl’s request. She had been following An’an and Director Yuko’s new drama. The two had so much in common that they were happily clinging to each other after just a few words.
Bourbon, who had been placed to the side by the two actresses, was speechless. “…”
It was one thing for An’an not to know. But he could hear Vermouth’s abacus clacking from a mile away.
Bourbon: Are you trying to steal my girl like this?
Don’t you have your own girlfriend? Why are you trying to steal someone else’s?
There wasn’t enough room on one set for two blond beauties. An invisible war had already begun.
“An’an,” Bourbon said, walking over to the girl.
The dark-haired girl, who was happily chatting with her senior, turned her head to look at him. At that moment, Vermouth casually threw out a topic she was interested in.
“Really? I also really like that old movie,” An’an said, her attention drawn by the topic, and she turned her head.
Her face was cupped by the blond young man. Bourbon’s thumb wiped across An’an’s cheek.
The lipstick mark Vermouth had left on the girl’s face was wiped clean.
“There was a little something dirty,” Bourbon said lightly. “It’s clean now. You two can continue.”