Chapter 51 Chapter 51 (Including 2k comments and extra update) It’s you! …

155.

To me, there are four people in this world who are more than just paper figures.

First up, Kudo Shinichi. He's not only the protagonist of this world, but also my beloved nephew. I unilaterally declared that we hit it off instantly, and I'm his half-aunt, who can pick him up from school. I believe that given our current friendship, he'll definitely spare me after destroying the Black Organization. I also eagerly anticipate the day he leads the Red Team to destroy the Black Organization.

Next, there's Binga, my best friend. He's the first person I met in the Black Organization. He doesn't know the old me. It's not like I grew up in the Black Organization and naturally accepted and liked me, so he became my friend. Incidentally, because of his unfriendly personality, I'm his only friend in the Black Organization. Those who don't understand how satisfying this kind of presence is to a petty person like me are out of luck. Oh, so it seems my personality is similar to Gin's too? I don't know if it's just the similarities that make us so close, or if it's just a common trait among the Black Organization members, or maybe... my pettiness has been influenced by Gin?

The third person is Sawada Tsunayoshi. He's even more of an exception than Binga. He's the only one in this world who's befriended me purely because I'm a good conversationalist and because of my personal charm. It has nothing to do with the Black Organization, and he doesn't even have a different opinion of me because of their prejudice against the Black Organization. He's befriended me simply because, well, I am who I am.

As for the fourth one...it's Gin.

Gin is truly important to me, an importance that cannot be expressed in words. He was the first strange yet familiar person I met when I first realized what a strange yet familiar world I was in.

He was mean to me, but he was also very nice to me.

He gave me an indescribable sense of security.

I need him.

But I admit that I am sometimes a bit obsessed with pursuing fairness. For example, I will send cheesy love words to everyone on the list equally. For example, now -

If Gin wants me to really like him and fall in love with him, and not just treat him as a paper man, or not treat him as a paper man I like at all, he must first make it clear that he likes me and loves me, and not just because I am a member of the Black Organization who makes him feel at ease and will not betray me.

That's fair enough.

I felt my neck was sore from leaning back, but I still didn't get any answer from Gin.

Maybe I won’t be able to wait for his answer, and it won’t be like what the song says… Oh, that day’s meeting and separation have all turned into flowers~

No, how can I sing at a time like this? You stupid brain, stop singing!

Pack up, it's time to run.

It's perfectly normal that I can't get a reply from Gin. If I keep waiting, the most I can get is him sneering and scolding me for having a mental problem.

It makes me feel a little regretful. Why am I asking this when I have nothing better to do? If I just want Gin to spare my life and stop training me, I can just act like crazy and cheat like before or say some cheesy love words to disgust him and leave.

Now we are stuck here, and everyone is unhappy.

Gin must be unhappy. Not only do I shamelessly want to sleep with him, but I also expect him to like me.

I was even more unhappy. It would be fine if Gin didn't reject me, but if he exposed my self-conceit, how could I take advantage of him in the future? Oh no, he wouldn't ask me to move out of his house the next second!

No, don't do that kind of thing——

I think my face must have become extremely frightened all of a sudden, so much so that Gin, who had been silent for a long time, finally moved his thin and cold lips.

Seeing that he was about to speak, I immediately squeezed my eyes shut, my long, wet eyelashes trembling as they brushed against the fabric of his trouser legs. If my hands hadn't been busy hugging his legs, I'd have probably already begged for mercy.

But I never expected that what poured into my eardrums was Gin's low and hoarse words that almost stirred the solidified air:

"How much more do you want me to do?"

I was stunned, my brain was blank as if it had been vacuumed away.

The usually indifferent silver-haired man bent down, put his arms through my knees and back, and with an unquestionable and almost cherished strength, he picked me up from the cushion and held me firmly in his arms.

If it were any other time, I would have screamed in joy at the princess hug.

I unconsciously loosened my arms around his legs, then subconsciously put my arms around his neck.

156.

No matter how much he likes me, at least he likes me.

He should like me, not Kaimon Yingzi from the Black Organization.

For him, perhaps this is the only thing he can do and the only answer he can give.

But, it’s enough.

157.

I stopped asking him whether he liked me or not. It was as if the matter was completely over and we returned to our previous way of getting along.

It's not exactly like before.

At least before, it was just him who took the shower, instead of me getting all sweaty and... me having to take the shower too.

However, it is regrettable that——

Still no home runs.

How should I put it? Frankly speaking, compared to the regret and the slightly unsatisfied discomfort I felt when I was taken to the bath, I was relieved.

After all, given the physical strength and other differences between Gin and me, until the fairness issues that I care about are completely resolved, I still think my life is more important.

I'll leave the vodka aside, Vermouth, I was keenly aware of a subtle amusement in her gaze, as if she knew something. I guess she saw that something must have happened between Gin and me, leading to our closer relationship? But something was missing? But since she perfectly maintained that mask of impassive spectatorship, I wouldn't take the initiative to fall into her trap.

A few days later, it was New Year's Day, and naturally, the three of us spent this year's New Year's Eve together.

This time, the dinner was a takeaway meal. Since Vodka and I went shopping together, I also bought a portion of takoyaki at a roadside stall out of selfishness.

The box of round and steaming takoyaki was squeezed in among the high-end dishes, but it didn't affect my satisfaction at all.

I like to stuff the dancing wooden fish flowers on it into my mouth first, and when I chew it with my cheeks puffed out, I look up and see Vodka carefully pouring wine into the glass in front of Gin.

How to describe the scene at this moment...

The warm yellow light streamed down, softening Gin's typically cold and stern features. His eyelids were slightly lowered, a few strands of his long silver hair falling across the shoulders of his jet-black home clothes. His silent posture resembled a beast that had temporarily retracted its claws. Vodka's thick fingers gripped the sake bottle, his movements revealing a caution that belied his size. This scene inexplicably brought with it an indescribable sense of...stability.

My heart seemed to be gently bumped by something, and a thought emerged silently: It would be great if it could always be like this.

We really are together forever. Not the kind of "living a good life for the three of us is more important than anything else" kind of togetherness that I joked about before. I even thought about the future, when the three of us - Vodka and I - have gray hair, and temporarily forgot about my retirement plan after the organization is destroyed.

This idea reached its peak when Vodka and I went to cheer for my daughter together.

Vodka had long since turned off the living room lights. The main light came from the flickering TV screen and the cheering sticks we waved. Fine dust particles drifted in the air, and light and shadow danced through them. My gaze drifted from the sweetly smiling idol on the screen, first landing on Vodka's face next to me, who was shouting excitedly at the top of his lungs. Then, as if on cue, I suddenly turned behind me.

Gin sat elegantly on the sofa, almost blending into the shadows. But he wasn't looking at the screen. His eyes, still strikingly bright in the dim light, were fixed on me. His gaze was as deep as a bottomless pool, yet strangely shrouded in an elusive concentration, as if I were the only image in the room worthy of his attention.

My heart was beating strangely for no apparent reason.

"My members and I plan to go to the beach to watch the sunrise after this, and then go to Sensoji Temple together. I'm not sure if my New Year's wish will be invalid if I say it out loud, so I'll just give a little hint here." The pink cake on the TV sweetly held up the microphone, her eyes curved into beautiful crescents. "My New Year's wish is about everyone!"

Vodka was only concerned with covering his chest exaggeratedly, sighing how cute his daughter was, and shouting that his daughter had him in her heart.

…That seems to be my word.

But at this moment, I no longer have time to complain about him copying me.

I, who always act on my impulses, excitedly patted the vodka, flapped my arms hard, and like a moth, struggled to stand up from the soft lazy sofa using my hands and feet.

I knelt on the beanbag I'd brought with me every time I moved, my hands on the sofa, trying to lean my upper body towards Gin. My eyes were wide with excitement and anticipation, practically glowing.

"Hey, brother, Vodka, let's go to the beach to watch the sunrise!"

Vodka turned his head blankly, his eyes full of question marks: "Watch the sunrise?"

"Yes!" I nodded vigorously, my hair swaying with the movement. "Just like my daughter said, let's go to the beach to watch the sunrise!"

"You don't want to meet your daughter by chance, do you? Illegitimate behavior is not advisable. You told me that." Vodka reminded me politely.

"I didn't plan on running into my daughter! I just wanted to see it, but I haven't seen the sunrise at the beach yet!" Forget it, there's no point talking to Vodka. The real talker is sitting on the sofa. I turned back to look at Gin, pleading with my eyebrows exposed, and said coquettishly, pinching my throat, "Brother, please, please, this is my lifelong request!"

Oh no, why do I have a feeling of being rejected?

Is it because Gin is too lazy to play around with me?

158.

Sure enough, I was rejected.

Fortunately, before I could hear any cold words from Gin, I was interrupted by a sudden phone call.

Our Black Organization is really a terrible organization. We let Gin take action on the reunion night. Now, others can't reunite, and we can't reunite either.

Yes, Gin still didn’t bring me this time.

He and Vodka quickly changed their clothes and went out, leaving me alone to watch the entire Red and White Song Festival.

Before going to bed, I hesitated for a long time, and finally chose to go to Gin's bed with my new pet giraffe in my arms.

What else? Back in my bed, wasn't Gin still dragging me back? His need for control, tsk tsk tsk.

To be honest, my room has almost become my dressing room. It really doesn't feel very human, not as good as Gin's bed.

I buried myself between the soft pillows and bedding. In this space completely enveloped by his scent, the familiar sense of security quickly dragged my consciousness down... I hugged the doll and fell into a deep sleep.

I don't know how long it took, but in a hazy dream, I felt as if I were sinking to the bottom of warm water, my breath gently captured by a soft, warm force. A moist, slightly cool touch, with an undeniable presence, covered my lips.

At first, it was a tentative touch, like a snowflake landing quietly on warm skin, with a cautious coolness. Then, the pressure deepened slightly, slowly and torturously rubbing my lips, bringing a subtle and strange tingling sensation. My breath was briefly deprived, and then a familiar, cold breath was introduced, intertwining with everything I had sensed in my dream.

I whimpered uneasily, subconsciously trying to turn my head away from the disturbing intrusion, but a large, slightly cool hand gently held my face. Its fingertips, carrying the night's chill, pressed against my cheek, and its pads even unconsciously, gently, caressed the skin just below my earlobe. The touch was rough, yet carried an indescribable concentration.

“…Hmm?”

The eyelashes trembled, like a butterfly struggling to break out of its cocoon, and it was extremely difficult to open a gap.

My vision was hazy, only the dim yellow nightlight by the bedside illuminated a vague yet familiar silhouette. Silver hair fell, brushing against my forehead, bringing a subtle tingle. Those dark green eyes, still startlingly sharp in the darkness, stared back at me from close, churning with a deep undercurrent I couldn't immediately decipher.

His kiss did not stop even though I was half awake. Instead, he took advantage of the time when I hummed unconsciously to deepen the touch.

The feeling of lack of oxygen and this awakening method that was far beyond my expectations made my brain go completely blank. I could only passively endure this kiss with the chill of night dew and possessiveness.

After finally being released, my eyes were still misty, sleep tugging at my consciousness like sticky honey. His blurred yet profound outline loomed in my vision, and I subconsciously, with a hint of bewildered dependence, murmured, "Brother?"

Gin did not answer, but used actions instead of words.

His strong arms easily lifted me up from the warm bed, picked up the clothes he had casually placed on the bed and put them on me. By the time I realized what was happening, he had already put a furry sweater on me like a doll at his mercy.

By the time I was about to put on my pants, I finally sobered up. I grasped his still-cold hand, my fingertips feeling the strength beneath his skin. I looked up into his dark green eyes, which shone startlingly bright under the dim bedside lamp, and asked doubtfully, "Are you leaving?"

The dim light softened the hard lines on his face, but made the depth of his eyes seem even more compelling. He nodded naturally, as if waking someone up from a deep sleep and putting clothes on them late at night was a common occurrence.

159.

I thought he was going to take me on a mission, but I didn't expect—

Vodka drove the black Porsche silently, taking us through the cold fog in the early morning, and finally stopped at the deserted beach.

On a bitterly cold morning, the sea breeze whistled across the empty beach like an ice blade.

I was bundled up tightly, a thick blanket from the car wrapped tightly over my down jacket, leaving only my eyes exposed. Even for someone who's sensitive to the cold, this wasn't enough, so Gin wrapped me completely in his black windbreaker to keep me from shivering.

However, the sunrise was beautiful and the cold was worth it.

On the distant horizon, the dark blue sky was pried open bit by bit, revealing a warm golden-red light. The light gradually spread out, like an overturned palette, dyeing the deep sea surface into a flowing golden color.

Tiny waves danced and sparkled on the sea, like countless dazzling diamonds. In the sky, which gradually changed from red to blue, scattered clouds were rimmed with dazzling gold, forming a picture that is difficult to describe in words.

I listened to the waves tirelessly crashing against the rocks and beach, their low, rhythmic roar interwoven with the whistling wind into a natural symphony. Uncontrollably, I looked up at the silver-haired man gazing at the distant skyline.

The sharp sea breeze whipped his long, silver hair into a frenzy, a few strands carelessly brushing against my fingers and cheek. It wasn't soft to the touch, but rather hard and pliant, with a chill, much like his character: cold, tough, and unyielding. Yet, the subtle tickle of the hair brushing against my skin strangely set my heart racing.

My heart is soft at this moment.

I always feel that there are some destined gaps and regrets in another world, which are finally filled at this moment.

As if sensing my focused gaze, Gin held down the brim of his black hat, which was a little restless due to the sea breeze, with one hand, and slowly lowered his head to look at me.

The morning light cast a soft shadow on his sharply defined profile, melting his usual coldness a bit. The corners of his lips curved upward ever so slightly, and his dark green eyes reflected the golden morning light, as well as my small figure.

"What are you looking at?" His voice was low, mixed with the sea breeze, but it clearly penetrated my eardrum.

"Brother, you..." I couldn't help but murmur.

"Um."

"Actually, this is the first time I saw the sunrise in my life, and it was at the beach." I said with emphasis.

Gin slowly pulled me closer to him, resting his chin on top of my head, "Yeah."

Vodka said happily: "This is also my first time watching the sunrise at the beach."

I:"……"

Many times, I think Vodka is a smart guy, but many times... it's better not to mention it.

160.

Valentine's Day is just a week away, and the air seems to be filled with a sweet and exciting atmosphere in advance. Shop windows have long been filled with various heart-shaped decorations and pink tones. Even the cold wind on the street corners is wrapped with a faint chocolate aroma. The Polestar Bar has also been promoting its Valentine's Day activities a long time ago.

I, who have always attached great importance to every festival, am starting to have a headache.

Every Valentine's Day, I send chocolates to the Black Organization members. Well, you know something about Japanese culture, but anyone who's watched anime will be familiar with honmei and giri chocolates. Honmei chocolates are given to loved ones, while giri chocolates are given to friends. There's also chocolate for same-sex friends and jifen chocolates for yourself... It reminds me of that saying: Do you know how hard the Japanese will work to get you to spend money on Valentine's Day?

But thanks to the geniuses selling chocolate, who can even melt chocolate and make it crash, I just need to spend money. This year is no exception. I already ordered the chocolates long ago, so it seems that there is no need to worry about it, but there is still...

At this moment, I was absentmindedly wiping the tulip glass, my mind full of Valentine's Day, when I suddenly heard a woman's angry voice:

"Scumbag!"

I looked up quickly.

Wow, that water was poured so precisely! It was so authentic! If it weren't for my inappropriate status, I'd have applauded the beautiful woman who walked away so gracefully in her high heels.

Unfortunately, I can't. At least I have to pretend to be a good bartender. I looked around and everyone seemed to be busy. Forget it, I'll do it.

I shrugged, put a "clean" white towel on the tray, and walked over to the man who was frantically wiping his face with a tissue. Water droplets were dripping down the ends of his slightly greasy hair, leaving dark stains on his clothes.

"Miss……"

Oh my god! What a greasy smile! Even greasier than his hair! I should have known not to come!

The hand that was originally reaching for the towel turned a subtle bend in the air very naturally, and its target obviously shifted from the towel to my hand holding the tray. The intention was self-evident.

I was just about to shrink back quietly to avoid this uncomfortable contact, but without warning, a bony hand reached into my sight.

His hand moved so fast that it was almost like the wind. He picked up the towel from the tray accurately and stuffed it directly into the malicious hand with almost unquestionable strength.

"You're welcome."

The voice was low, yet strangely pleasant, with a unique magnetism.

It seemed very familiar. My ears moved and I looked quickly in the direction of the sound.

The man who spoke was wearing a black jacket, his figure was tall and thin, and he wore a black knitted beanie on his head. Beneath the beanie, a few strands of unruly black hair drooped in curls. He had deep and handsome eyebrows, a high nose bridge, and clear and slightly cold cheekbones. He was undoubtedly an extremely attractive and handsome man.

But what is more eye-catching is the temperament he exudes... well, calm, sharp, like a famous sword in its sheath, silent but emitting a dangerous aura all the time, and it is obvious that he is not someone who can be messed with.

Anyway, when I saw his face clearly, especially when I suddenly met his dark green eyes, I subconsciously took a breath.

Oh my god!

It's you!

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The author has something to say: The plot of watching the sunrise is the scene mentioned in Chapter 47 of "The Bartender" where Yingzi once proposed to watch the sunrise but was rejected. It doesn't matter if you haven't seen it, it's just mentioned.

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Tulip glass, a common glass for whiskey, so rye whiskey appeared [dog head holding a rose]

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I'm not a fan of Lou, I just had this song in my head because I was the unlucky guy who was forced to perform at the annual meeting [clown]

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Current debt

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As long as I'm diligent enough, debts can't catch up with me. You're far behind~ Oh yeah!