"Back?" he asked. "Where was he before? Was he sick?"
"Ah, no!" Xiaolan finally realized she had almost let something slip and quickly added, "He had some business to take care of, so he temporarily went to the United States for a while."
“Oh,” the man said.
He nodded, seemingly intending to end the conversation.
However, Xiaolan stared at him with wide eyes, looking him over as if she had just seen him for the first time.
"Sir, haven't we... met somewhere before?"
The man almost stumbled, looking at her as if she were an idiot.
Did I make myself very clear?
This isn't the first time I've seen you. The last time I saw you, you were crying too.
So you still haven't remembered?
...Never mind, it's my fault for having such a good memory.
"Ah!" Xiaolan exclaimed just as he was about to give up, "We met in the US, right? A year ago, in New York?"
The man gave a soft hum, while the corners of his mouth turned up at an almost imperceptible angle.
It seems like that counts as a laugh.
Then, he raised his hand to his brow and gestured as if he was about to take his leave.
But Xiaolan also bowed politely at the same time.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Ran Mouri. Sir…”
The man nodded, but did not stop, and brushed past her.
A name drifted by as the cigarette smoke flickered.
"Akai Shuichi."
...
"Recently, in Beika City, the police have once again swiftly solved a murder case..."
"The deceased was..."
"The murderer is...it is alleged that he did it because..."
"Inspector Megure of the Third Division of the First Investigative Department stated that the case was solved thanks to the great assistance of high school detective Shinichi Kudo..."
"I believe everyone is familiar with the name Shinichi Kudo..."
"He was once known as the 'savior of the Japanese police' because he solved many murder cases on his own..."
"About eight months ago, Shinichi Kudo left Japan and went overseas to investigate the incident..."
"Will this powerful comeback be a challenge to the many famous detectives who have been active recently?..."
"..."
When Vermouth arrived at the distillery's local location, Gin was leaning against the window smoking.
Vodka was idly scrolling through the news on his phone.
"Big brother, look! Shinichi Kudo, isn't that..."
"Shinichi Kudo? Who's that?"
Gin casually uttered a sentence through the gap between his teeth, which were clenched with a cigarette.
As for the nonsensical name my younger brother mentioned, just saying that was already being polite.
He turned to Vermouth, who seemed somewhat dazed for some reason: "You're back?"
"That distant mountain..."
"A super thick-skinned, lucky guy," Vermouth said with a laugh. "He woke up in the hospital and started cursing the darkness of Japanese politics."
"He seems to have blamed the shot on Senator Tunkou's political enemy."
"As for his intellect, I can only say that he has about a fraction of his physical abilities."
"This approach might be more effective in the United States, given the concept of 'hard-boiled detectives'."
The words were spoken tactfully and were full of praise.
But Gin could tell that it was mostly sarcastic and unsettling.
It seemed like he was complaining about why he had asked her to investigate such a piece of junk.
“But you’re enjoying it, aren’t you?” Gin said, scrutinizing her radiant appearance.
Absinthe immediately curled his lip.
"A pure love type of little boy, disgusting!"
A cigarette had appeared on her slender fingers without her noticing.
He then brazenly leaned close to Gin's cigarette butt and took a deep drag.
Gin snorted and stepped back, a hint of anger flashing in his cold eyes.
However, Vermouth exhaled a puff of smoke and burst into laughter.
"However, I did discover something interesting."
Regardless of whether Gin liked it or not, she vividly recounted the case of the Homeless Rising Theater Company.
Interspersed throughout are expressions of contempt for the despicable nature of the three murderers, the weakness of Kiryu Eiji and Kozuki Reina, and Yoruichi Toyama's so-called righteous pronouncements.
There's nothing she doesn't complain about.
"So, what's so interesting about it?" Vodka, who had been eavesdropping for a while, couldn't help but ask.
"The founder of the vagrant movement, the owner of the opera house, Kurosawa Kazuma." Vermouth raised an eyebrow and glanced at Gin.
"What a coincidence! I remember your surname is Chen... oh no, your given name is Kurosawa?"
No one had ever dared to speak to his older brother like that, Vodka thought.
While joining the organization certainly requires strict identity verification, the eldest brother's identity information should only be known to "that person".
No one dared to ask the question directly to his face.
But Gin's cold expression remained unchanged.
Only the cigarette between his teeth silently glowed and faded.
“It’s not a coincidence,” he said suddenly, his tone flat. “Kurosawa Kazuma is my half-brother.”
Vermouth thought he must have snorted when he turned around.
A disdainful sneer.
...
If the return of Vermouth was within Gin's expectations, then the sudden arrival of Bourbon was simply adding insult to injury.
"Are you here to report to my older brother?" Upon seeing his older brother's old rival, Vodka stepped forward and initiated the verbal sparring.
Since we've never really gotten to a conclusion in our arguments, I'll just say whatever comes to mind.
Bourbon, unusually, did not retort. Instead, he exaggeratedly looked the vodka and gin up and down, and then laughed.
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