Chapter 39 New Mission: Youth Has No Price, Mafia C...
Bad news, that blond bastard is running away again.
Good news: this time he remembered to wake up Kitagawa Ryusei for breakfast before leaving.
Kitagawa Ryusei sat on a cushioned chair, poked at the soft, warm tamagoyaki, watched Furuya Rei hurriedly put on his dried clothes, and still had time to observe the situation at the dining table and ask him if he was feeling unwell.
Kitagawa Ryusei, who had almost no recollection of yesterday, remained silent, looked away, and lowered his head to drink his flavored soup. He said casually, "You're wearing your sweater inside out."
"Oh, really?"
Rei Furuya lowered his head, staring blankly at the sweater collar in front of him. The next moment, he quickly took off the sweater and put it back on.
Kitagawa Ryusei did not go up to help.
To be precise, he hadn't yet recovered from the shock of waking up in the morning to see his dark-skinned boyfriend wearing his shirt, with a towel wrapped around his lower body and an apron around his neck.
The scene was so shocking it was almost a psychological attack.
After a flurry of activity, Furuya Rei finally managed to put on her coat and get herself ready to go out.
Although the suit pants look a bit wrinkled, it doesn't matter. As long as your legs are long, people won't pay attention to these few small creases.
"I'm going out!" Rei Furuya grabbed a handful of hair and turned around.
Kitagawa Ryusei, who had left the table at some point, stood behind him, leaning against the wall to relieve the pressure of standing. She seemed quite resentful of his "energetic" demeanor: "I know, be careful."
“Wrong,” Furuya Rei said with a faint smile, leaning in and exchanging a kiss with the young man, acting first and asking questions later: “There should be a kiss here.”
The young man did not object, letting the other person kiss him and then rub against his lips like a cat.
They were sticky when separated.
He then pushed Rei Furuya by the back and shoved him out the door: "Alright, we've kissed, if you don't leave now you'll be late!"
*
The one who summoned Bourbon was none other than Gin, the organization's top killer.
In fact, he was looking for the entire whisky group.
Arriving a step ahead, Scotland, sitting at the bar, was bored and gently cleaning his gun.
This scene might seem strange on its own, but it doesn't seem out of place at all in a dimly lit bar.
Next to him, Ray was still casually throwing darts at the wall.
Underground bars, strange men in black, and dangerous items lying around unattended.
It perfectly matches all the common assumptions people have about criminal organizations.
The wind chimes hanging by the door were knocked, the rusty bells making a rather unpleasant sound. Without turning his head, Lai threw a dart that plunged deep into the bullseye.
"Oh, you're back from work?" The tone was unmistakably sarcastic.
The people in the organization all have their own personal quirks to some extent. Compared to Gin killing someone for fun at the drop of a hat, Scottish cooking, Bourbon working, and Vermouth acting all seem incredibly mundane.
Shuichi Akai had previously remained silent on this matter.
Bourbon ignored him and turned to look at Scotland, his eyes conveying a clear message: Has he lost his mind?
Wasn't the process after the three of them met supposed to be that he first made a provocative remark, then Rye made a cold and sarcastic remark, and finally Scotland made the final decision to end the war?
Everyone knows the unspoken agreement, so why are we behaving so unpredictably today?
So, after being exposed by the FBI, has the belated rebellious phase finally arrived?
Upon receiving a glance from his childhood friend, Scotland silently looked away, refusing to meet his gaze and choosing to remain uninvolved, ignoring both of them.
Based on their familiarity, he could tell from Zero's subtle movements that he was in a good mood. Even with a dark face and an ambiguous expression, he could still imagine a pair of ears twitching happily on the other's head.
It looks like these two won't be fighting today.
Scotland put the gun back in its case, calmly took a sip of the wine in its glass, and then calmly put the glass down.
Not getting a response, Bourbon didn't care. He went around to the other side of the bar and sat down, sitting on either side of Rye, with Scotland between them.
“Bourbon Whiskey.”
He took off his baseball cap and spoke politely to the bartender who had remained silent the entire time.
"Okay, sir, please wait a moment." The bartender kept his eyes down, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.
His presence here clearly indicates he's a member of the organization. However, unlike the core members, the bartender only handles errands.
Although his regular presence at the organization's bar allowed him frequent contact with codenamed members, it did not diminish his fear of them.
Bourbon, an unscrupulous intelligence broker.
Rum, a member of the intelligence team, is one of the organization's recent rising stars and one of the few who have been actively invited to join the organization because of his reputation.
It is said that the other party was assigned to work under the other party for a period of time because of his mysticism, which is similar to Vermouth's. He once completed a series of tasks in the United States by collecting information on the target, infiltrating, subduing the target's bodyguard, and kidnapping.
Not only did it shatter the organization's impression that the intelligence team members were not good at physical combat, but it also subtly showed a tendency to overpower the action team.
None of the people who could sit at the same table as Bourbon were easy to deal with.
Rye has a Gin-like personality, and his lone wolf nature makes him an outsider in the organization. Only Scotland, who has a superficially good relationship with everyone, can talk to him.
This is the first time I've seen an organization member like Scotland who smiles at everyone. But if anyone is fooled by his facade and overlooks the abyss-like vortex in his eyes, they probably won't even know how they died.
The bartender bent down to mix the drink, skillfully minimizing his presence, and placed the drink on the bar counter.
After an unknown amount of time, the bar door was pushed open again.
The three of them looked up at the same time.
The person entered wearing a black overcoat and a matching top hat, accompanied by the biting Siberian wind.
Those wolf-like, eerie green eyes scanned the bar before finally settling on the three people.
The man strode over.
Besides the cold air emanating from Gin, there was also an unmistakable smell of gunpowder emanating from him, suggesting he had just walked out of a murder scene.
He stopped a few steps away and said succinctly, "I have a mission."
Upon hearing this, the three people at the bar became composed and waited for the other party to continue.
“The people from the Americas who trade gems with us said they need to come in person to inspect the goods for the first transaction,” Gin said, seemingly somewhat dissatisfied. He clicked his tongue but didn’t say much more. “The BOSS has given orders to assign the task to Vermouth. She will be returning from America in the next few days.”
"That woman will be in charge of the transaction, and the three of you will assist her. This mission concerns the organization's new trade route. What you need to do is to ensure that no link in the chain goes wrong and that the organization does not show any signs of weakness."
After Gin finished speaking, his hands were still in his coat pockets, and he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth that never seemed to get short. He glanced at the three of them and said, "If you have any questions, ask them now."
Silence fell over the bar for a moment. The bartender had already disappeared when Gin mentioned the task.
The three whiskeys exchanged a glance.
Ray's eyes gleamed with a subtle light, barely noticeable in the rusty bar, and he shrugged casually: "No."
Scotland paused for a moment to think, then asked, "We only need to successfully transfer the goods to the other party; we don't need to guarantee their safe return home, right?"
"As long as you leave Japan."
Bourbon was the last to speak. He clasped his hands on the table with a nonchalant expression: "The other party wants to come and inspect the goods in person. I'm afraid it's because their former partner, the Mexican Mafia, is preoccupied with its own problems and is worried that the trade routes and sources of goods that were hastily transferred are not safe enough. Perhaps they also want to squeeze some money out of the organization."
"They'll definitely find fault with me."
Although his tone was casual and he had a faint smile on his face, he gave off a chilling feeling.
"Your information network is quite impressive."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Gin snorted coldly, clearly not intending to say more: "How you deal with it is your business. If you fail..."
"You know the consequences."
*
As the calendar on the desk was about to turn another page, the clock ticked away, and people in the police station kept running back and forth with phones tucked between their ears.
Even though she had finished all her work and could have left on time, Kitagawa Ryusei's eyelids kept twitching.
I've calculated that it's been almost a week since Group Zero has given them any trouble.
I have a feeling that the other party is planning something big again.
"Beichuan, the administrator is looking for you."
The moment the sound came from the doorway, Kitagawa Ryusei felt a weight lift from his heart in a different way.
The inevitable overtime work will still come.
He knocked on the slightly ajar door and entered the administrator's office, only to find two people already standing inside.
One of them, with messy eyebrows and the same serious face behind his round glasses, was an old acquaintance, Yuya Kazami from Team Zero.
The other man had a mustache and a distinctly European appearance. He had been staring at Kitagawa Ryusei ever since he came in, his scrutiny undisguised.
As Kitagawa Ryusei walked from the doorway to his desk, he mentally reviewed the names of the company presidents who had recently been under surveillance by the Zero Group. He couldn't be sure that any of them had met with misfortune recently.
Given that he recently reported his speculations about organizations and conglomerates, Zero Group probably doesn't have time to deal with anything else right now.
So it might be related to this European.
Sure enough, before the manager could even speak, the European, with a forced smile, said, "Kimi Kitagawa, I've heard so much about you."
Kitagawa Ryusei: ...?
"Heh, your men got humiliated by their own carelessness and now they want to take it out on me."
Before Kitagawa Ryusei could respond, the seated manager gave a similarly insincere sneer: "James? Black, you're really getting worse as you get older."
As soon as the words were spoken, Kitagawa Ryusei understood instantly.
—The FBI.
The one I spoke to just a few days ago.
It seems they realized they couldn't hide the fact that they were conducting a private investigation, and they didn't want to be at a disadvantage, so they came to probe and seek cooperation.
But shouldn't we contact the police department to discuss cooperation?
Kitagawa Ryusei maintained a composed expression, his heart remaining completely unmoved.
Perhaps sensing his doubts, the officer's expression changed to a broad smile, as if he and the security bureau had obtained a considerable amount of information from the FBI.
He began to explain: "It's like this, Kitagawa-kun. The FBI has recently been investigating several gangs in the Americas that are linked to the Black Organization, including the Mafia Group, which had just established a gem smuggling trade with them."
"Right now, the FBI has information about the Mafia Group. We want to take advantage of the fact that these people haven't received the information, disguise ourselves as Mafia members, and make a deal with them, so as to uncover the organization's source of gemstones."
“However,” the manager glanced at James with feigned sarcasm, “the FBI has indicated they hope to cooperate with you.”
Having roughly understood the meaning behind those words, Kitagawa Ryusei didn't take being designated by the FBI to heart.
He was concerned about something else, and his expression became somewhat unpredictable for a moment.
It wasn't so much hesitation as a lack of understanding of certain words.
After a moment of silence, he slowly spoke to confirm:
"...You want me to disguise myself as a Mafia member?"
“I know Kitagawa-kun’s appearance doesn’t quite fit the description, and we’ve never done this kind of disguised reconnaissance mission before.”
The manager remained all smiles, clearly placing great trust and expectations on his subordinate: "But this is also a good opportunity for growth, isn't it?"
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