Chapter 60 You and I as teenagers
Vodka was about to ask whether he should be dealt with when he was shocked. He swallowed his words back into his throat and looked at the man for a few times. For some reason, he felt that he was somewhat familiar with him, but when he thought about it carefully, he realized that he had never seen him in the organization.
"Long time no see, Gin," said Kazeshinano, who was still an ordinary office worker during the day, quietly, "It's been almost ten years since we last met, right?"
Gin looked at him carefully for a while, put down the gun in his hand, and said: "To have allowed you to live until now, it seems that the organization has been too gentle in these years, and they don't know who to filter out."
Kazejinomi didn't react to his words. He took a bag full of daily necessities and took a few steps forward. Under Vodka's vigilant gaze, he looked around, glanced at the corpse and the thick blood flowing from the corpse, and said, "After so many years, Gin, your methods of doing things are still so crude. Sooner or later, you will fall flat on your face. And," he turned to Gin, "how the organization arranges the employees in the group is decided by the boss, and it is not your turn to comment."
"Hahaha," Gin laughed loudly. As he laughed, he exuded a murderous aura. He looked at him coldly, "You are still like this. You can't see your own position and identity clearly. If there was a difference of one point, you would not be alive and standing here talking to me now."
Kazesami Nomi thought for a moment and said, "But I still passed, didn't I? No matter what, I successfully obtained the organization's code name. Before I make a serious mistake, you, Gin, have no right to punish me privately."
Vodka was about to break out in a cold sweat, because Gin's temperament was getting colder and colder. He looked at him coldly for a long time, and then slowly said: "I don't know when the code name member of the organization has fallen to the point of being a bank clerk. Can you really still hold a gun in your hand?"
Feng Jiye looked at him for a long time, then he sighed lightly. It seemed that if he didn't do something today, he would not be able to walk out of here unharmed. Thinking of this, his hand suddenly trembled, and a black pistol appeared in his hand. Then, three gunshots were heard in succession. Each gunshot drew a blood flower on the forehead of the living drug smuggler. Before he could react, he fell down with his eyes wide open in silence.
Vodka's body was tense. He put one hand in his arms and almost took out his gun. He glanced at Gin's face and found that his expression was uglier than before. Feng Jinyomi asked: "Is this enough to prove myself?" He said it seriously, as if he really meant it.
"Besides," he walked out of the blood, holding the plastic bag, "I will report today's events to Rum. After all, I am from the intelligence team, and it is not within my mission to rashly get bloodstained."
He just walked away step by step, ignoring the look in Gin's eyes that was piercing his back like a needle. Only after his figure completely disappeared did Vodka dare to ask softly, "Brother, who is he? Why do I seem to have never heard of his name in the organization?"
Gin took out a cigarette and Vodka walked over to light it with a tactful look. Gin took a deep breath and snorted coldly: "They are just some defective products left by the organization..."
His memory went back more than ten years. That was one of the organization's dozens of bases.
It was midsummer, and every chirping of insects could stir up the most violent waves in people's hearts. Dozens of young people were standing upright in the open space wearing very thin vests. Walking back and forth in front of them was a Russian strong man as tall as a bear. He scanned these young people who had not yet grown up with wolf-like eyes. The sound of his military boots stepping on the ground was like the bell of death knocking in their hearts.
He held a thin piece of paper with some words written on it in his hand, and he paced and read out a few names. Those whose names were called took a step forward and saluted him.
"That's all." The sturdy man deliberately stayed on them for a while, and was satisfied to see that they were still in a very regular shape even now. But the next moment, he showed a cruel and bloodthirsty smile, and threw these people into hell without mercy: "All of them are unqualified, take them away."
"What?" "No, it shouldn't be like this..." "Do you know who my father is?" "I don't agree, what right do you have to judge me like this?"...
Under the pressure of life and death, the young man, who had been trained to the point of losing several layers of skin, finally resisted. The sturdy man became furious. He took out his pistol and shot the one who shouted the loudest without hesitation. The boy fell limply to the ground, with yellow liquid flowing out from under his body.
The sturdy man also frowned, and soon someone came forward and took him away. “I thought that three years of continuous training would be enough to teach you what reverence is,” he waved his arms angrily, “but now it seems that some of you still fail to recognize your own situation!”
"This is a gladiatorial arena, a cage, and a meat grinder where life and death are decided," he said loudly, "From the moment your loved ones sent you here, you were abandoned. I told you on the first day that those who don't crawl out of here will end up in the organization's laboratory. This is hell!" He said with lingering feeling.
The people who were chosen seemed to have seen the tragic end that was about to come for them, and their reactions varied. The sturdy man had a grim expression and stood there motionless until another figure standing behind him said, "Let's do another test."
This was a young man with long silver hair who was only about half a head taller than these people. Although he was only a few years older than them, his face looked much more mature and calm. He was currently looking at the training performance reports of these people over the past three years. Without even looking up, he said, "We don't need so many people. Let the first few eliminated have a competition with the last few. Only the winners will survive."
The burly instructor thought about it and did not refute his proposal. This man was the best performer in the previous training sessions. It was said that he had completed the tasks very well in recent years. He had gained the attention and appreciation of that gentleman and was likely to become his confidant. He read out five names.
Four boys and one girl came out. The boys had tense faces. Some of them couldn't control their expressions well and looked at the silver-haired boy with resentment in their eyes. The silver-haired boy didn't care about it at all. On the contrary, those who were selected from the eliminated ones were so grateful that they burst into tears, but the silver-haired boy didn't care about that either.
Among the few people who passed the test and walked out later, there was a young man with short flaxen hair. He was neither tall nor short, and his expression was the calmest among them. His eyes were brown, like a calm spring, and there was no sign that he was about to face an extremely dangerous duel. His physical skills were not very good, ranking below average among all the people.
He just sighed in his heart, feeling that changes always come when things really happen.
He was the third one to go on stage, and his opponent was a girl with short black hair. They seemed to know each other and exchanged a few words before they started. But the confrontation that followed made everyone look sideways.
Seeing him being knocked back by the girl's series of kicks, the instructor quickly revealed some information to the silver-haired boy. "No. 33789 is good at intelligence gathering. His marksmanship is not bad, but his physical fitness is a bit poor. Of course, he is very good at finding the right time to turn disadvantages into advantages."
This was not a defense of him. The situation on the field did change soon after. It seemed that the boy said something and the girl became emotional all of a sudden. Then the boy found the right time and kneed her in the abdomen with her bruised face. When she was retching, he twisted her hand, took her gun, and knocked her out.
The silver-haired boy narrowed his eyes slightly, "Is this his poor taijutsu?"
"Yes," the instructor said with some regret, "If he was not really talented in intelligence gathering, and his other abilities were mediocre but not too bad, I'm afraid he would have been eliminated. Even so, based on the overall score, he just barely passed the passing line and is the worst one."
The situation on the field was not slow. Knowing that this fight was related to their lives, everyone fought with all their strength. Most of the top few kept their positions, until the fourth place...
The girl who was originally in the ranking fell to the ground. She looked at her opponent with horror. Her opponent had gone crazy and didn't care about being shot by the gun. He bit the girl's nose tightly, as if he knew he would not survive. The horrible face was only a few millimeters away from her. She screamed in pain. The opponent attacked her chest instantly. She dodged subconsciously, but this dodged gave away the advantage she had established.
The flaxen-haired boy looked away, knowing that the outcome was decided this time.
Soon, someone came and dragged away four bodies. Two people died together, two were beaten to death by their opponents, and three lost part of their body. In the end, only three survivors were left. This screening is finally over.
The remaining people will finally be able to walk out of here, and next they will go to work for this huge organization. Some will survive and obtain the code names left by their parents, and some will die, and their lives will be extinguished in a place where no one can see them, and they will disappear without a trace when the wind blows.
This is their fate, a fate determined at birth.
Surprisingly, the flax-haired boy was assigned that night. "To the Operations Department?" He lay on the bed, stretched out his hand and held up the transfer letter, looking at the words on it.
"This is different from what I expected." He only thought about it for a moment, and the cold face of the silver-haired boy appeared in his mind. "It should be him," he thought silently: "Change the member allocation plan."
"This guy looks like a big trouble." He thought of the girl who should have survived, and made a decision.
"Haha, you mean," the silver-haired boy said with a glare the next day, "He rejected me. Did the intelligence department specifically ask to take him away, or was it Rum who ordered it?"
"Yes," the instructor wiped his sweat, feeling as if he was drawn into a vortex in the organization. He said, "You know, these people are originally children of some members of the organization. It was easy to deal with them before. Those who did not pass the test could be dealt with as they wish. But once they pass the test, some of their previous connections can be reactivated, which is not prohibited by the organization. What's more, he does have a talent for intelligence processing, so it is reasonable for Rum to take him away."
The silver-haired young man sneered, "Talent? Is it because he can't do anything?"
"Well," the instructor didn't know what to say, and finally had to save face: "At least he passed the test..."
"Hmph!" The silver-haired young man left unhappily.
Of course, when he grew up, Gin did not tell Vodka any of this. How could an elder brother explain this to a younger brother? It was only later, when he was searching for information about the new "Colin's" liquor, that he vaguely remembered this past event. It was also many years later that the name "Kazesaki Nomi" appeared in his memory again. The reason why he disliked him later, apart from his opposing stance with Rum, was because of his situation over the years.
How should I put it? Apart from not making some principled mistakes, everything he did was on the edge of completion and incompleteness. You can't say he didn't complete it. He did try very hard and was even injured several times, but the results were never very good. Either an accident occurred or it was worse than not completing the task, and the results he brought to the organization were worse than not doing it. This is purely a matter of personal ability. To put it in one sentence, "it's tasteless to eat, but a pity to throw it away", this is the best evaluation of him.
As a result, everyone has naturally seen that this bottle of wine has been increasingly marginalized. A code-named member has actually managed to become an employee of a small bank. Although it is still an enterprise of the organization, it is enough to make people laugh.
Vodka didn't know this yet. He just followed behind Gin and kept asking, "Why have I never heard of the name 'Collinz' in the organization? It was inherited from the previous generation. Doesn't that mean that his father and mother have made great contributions to the organization..."
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