Chapter 41: The transaction concealed its merits and fame.
After "supervising" the FBI agents, disguised as Mafia members, to load the jewels onto an inconspicuous cargo ship, Matsuda Jinpei drove to his hotel.
Kitagawa Ryusei went with Vermouth, who had accepted the invitation.
It was on the top floor of the hotel that the organization had temporarily arranged.
To accommodate Mr. Mafia, who had come from afar and didn't have time for dinner, Vermouth thoughtfully offered to forgo her daily fitness regimen and have some late-night snacks.
"Please serve all the dishes at once. We'd like to change the main course to a low-fat herb-baked salmon. We don't need any other service. Thank you."
Kitagawa Ryusei turned his head to instruct the waiter, then quickly stepped forward to pull out a seat for the lady: "How does Miss Wen Yade feel?"
"It couldn't be more perfect."
Vermouth couldn't be more pleased. She took off her coat, draped it over the back of the chair, and sat down with an air of nonchalance.
Sure enough, compared to those guys who wouldn't even put out their cigarettes in front of ladies, this one was much more appealing.
The same reason why I personally favor Bourbon within the organization.
The lady gracefully raised her wine glass, gently swirling the amber liquid, and continued their conversation on the way: "I'm curious, since you wanted far more than this, why didn't you mention it from the beginning?"
"You know, temporarily transferring goods is a very troublesome thing."
“Trouble is better in the short term than in the long run. After all, I need to be responsible for the work at hand,” Kitagawa Ryusei said as he sat down. His words, which were clearly unpleasant, made people want to understand him: “Our lovely Mexican friends are currently in a difficult situation. It is only right that we be cautious about the trade routes they are selling off.”
He then added meaningfully, "Moreover, our purpose is not simply limited to smuggling gems."
"Yeah."
Vermouth looked down at the wine in her glass without replying, but a slight smile played on her lips as she changed the subject: "The scarf is very pretty."
The young man paused for a moment while holding the cutlery, then sincerely said, "Thank you."
"Does it have a special meaning? Was it a gift from someone important?" Vermouth, well-versed in the ways of interpersonal relationships, timely revealed her curiosity.
This wasn't an unanswerable question; on the contrary, Kitagawa Ryusei didn't even need to think about it.
He half-jokingly said, "A token, a symbol of joining the Mafia. But I always felt that the senior who recruited me just randomly picked the most fancy but impractical one from the closet."
Compared to the simple lines of a suit vest, this gothic-style scarf features beautiful and intricate folds.
These are accessories that are not usually worn outside unless on a special occasion.
But long ago, Kitagawa Ryusei had already commissioned it according to the design in his memory, and kept it deep inside the wardrobe.
Even if it's flashy but impractical.
It's exactly the same as his special ability.
"Using pure white as a token? That's really...unique."
Vermouth clearly misunderstood something, but respecting the customs of different gangs, this was the only assessment she could find.
"Perhaps."
Not wanting to waste time chatting, Kitagawa Ryusei ended the topic of the other party subtly probing for information and got down to business: "According to our leader's wishes, in order to ensure a smooth cooperation with our future allies, we will pay you an extra two percent on these goods, including the additional batch, at the agreed price."
"In addition, we have an established liquor smuggling route that we can hand over to your organization at a low price. Although the profit is not high, I think you might be interested."
In fact, no gang is uninterested in money or ways to make money.
Hearing his words, Vermouth's brow twitched slightly, surprised by the wealth and power of the organization behind the young man: "Two points...that's quite a lot."
Moreover, there is a smuggling route whose value cannot be measured in monetary terms.
No wonder that after she reported the transaction to the BOSS, the BOSS insisted that she must build good relationships with these people.
The organization's infiltration of influence in the Americas is only superficial and falls far short of the ambitious man's goals.
Now, a gemstone smuggling route has brought them into contact with a powerful local gang that is also keeping a low profile, so of course they want to take advantage of this opportunity.
But unlike the boss who was fixated on the benefits, Vermouth knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as a free lunch.
The lunches that are paid for out of pocket are all poisonous.
"And what about you, sir? What is it that you desire?"
Having once again seized the initiative in the conversation, Kitagawa Ryusei put down his cutlery, placed his hands on the table, and said directly, "I've heard that your organization has channels to purchase V-22 'Ospreys'." His tone was completely unquestioning.
Clearly, the young man had gathered enough information and was fully confident that he could achieve his goal.
Having witnessed Kitagawa Ryusei using Thompson as a tool to "greet" others and make a scene, Vermouth didn't think the other party would be bothered by it: "That's really a simple and unpretentious condition."
If organizations across the ocean can obtain something, how could the American Mafia, which seems to have just as much financial resources as these organizations and even has a geographical advantage, not get it?
Seeing her confusion at a glance, Kitagawa Ryusei's expression carried just the right amount of helplessness: "There's nothing I can do. America has been too strict lately. We're under close surveillance."
Strict controls mean things will be more complicated...
That being said, Vermouth couldn't imagine what kind of Mafia conflict would require such a weapon.
"Such a conspicuous weapon, you're not going to take it back to bomb the Statue of Liberty, are you?"
Just like in an organization, only a bunch of mindless violent lunatics would think of doing something as stupid as using a fish and eagle to bomb the Tokyo Tower, which has no value whatsoever.
Then the BOSS rejected them time and time again with a dark expression.
This seemed to touch on some taboo topics, so Kitagawa Ryusei casually joked, "I'll buy it for my partner to take apart and play with."
Smart people will fill in the blanks with their own imagination.
Vermouth, who had been handling the conversation with ease, paused for a moment, thinking she had misheard, and almost lost control of her expression: What are you going to do with it?
After a brief moment of shock, the seasoned senior officers of the organization quickly regained their composure.
Vermouth's first thought was that the grumpy, sunglasses-wearing Mafia could disassemble weapons to study their internal structure and thus learn how they were made.
...Could they even manufacture weapons?
That was truly terrifying power for the Mafia.
As the silver knife sliced through the beef tenderloin, Kitagawa Ryusei made no clattering sounds while eating.
He remained silent, letting Vermouth imagine freely.
After a moment of silence, Vermouth made her decision, her beautiful face now showing a hint of cold arrogance as she spoke: "The second batch of gems will be delivered to the dock within three days... I need to consult the BOSS about the ospreys."
Vermouth could make decisions even if the other party was just there to discuss a liquor business, but when it came to the sale of important weapons, she had to carefully consider the matter.
Kitagawa Ryusei said he completely understood and had no intention of urging them.
He raised his glass and spoke with confidence:
"Wishing you a pleasant cooperation."
It was as if the success of the deal was already foreseen.
Vermouth also raised her glass, lightly clinking it against the person in front of her, exuding charm with every gesture.
The stemmed glasses clinked together, producing a crisp sound.
The amber-colored wine is smooth and sweet on the palate, with a delicate flavor that women will appreciate.
Without excessive oak or earthiness, the beverage blends nutty, creamy, and dark chocolate flavors together, each distinct and unique.
The moment it entered his mouth, Kitagawa Ryusei's expression was knowing, and his voice rose with satisfaction at the end: "Mingdi Shi's bourbon whiskey."
...She was truly growing to admire the young man before her. Vermouth's smile deepened as she gave an affirmative answer: "That's right."
It's such a pity... If this were someone from their organization, I wouldn't be unable to find another person with common interests besides Bourbon.
“Mr. Elvis and one of my colleagues would probably get along particularly well.”
Kitagawa Ryusei paused for a moment, then turned his head as if to laugh, and when he looked up, he readily agreed: "Is that so? That's something to look forward to."
After he finished speaking, he saw that Vermouth had already put down her cutlery, so he put it down as well. Instead of using the tablecloth draped over his lap, he took out his own handkerchief to wipe the corner of his lips.
This is a signal that dinner is about to end.
Vermouth looked towards the restaurant entrance for the third time tonight, a hint of surprise on her face.
The message was sent half an hour ago; the issue at the dock has been resolved.
Why hasn't Bourbon arrived yet?
*
Bourbon was unaware that his close colleagues in the organization had been subtly and linguistically setting the stage for his "honey trap," just waiting for him to make his entrance.
The moment he stepped into the hotel, he was intercepted by the black-haired FBI agent who had been waiting for him.
Knowing the police plan and with his own Ryusei right above him, Furuya Rei, who didn't want to be exposed to the FBI, stopped with a disgruntled expression.
What are you doing?
Scotland also stopped in her tracks, turning her head with a puzzled expression.
Lei still had that poker face, and perhaps because he had been busy all day, his upper eyelids looked a little limp: "Gin wants the two of you to call him and give him a report on what happened at the docks."
That's right, in order to find an excuse to stop Bourbon and Scotland, Rye even went so far as to tattle on them to the undercover assassin he hated.
Although it might lower the lone wolf's image, one must learn to yield when faced with a mission ahead.
The best way to resolve a conflict is to shift the focus away from it. Right now, the FBI is probably more afraid of being exposed than they are of it.
Furuya Rei, who had been considering how to stall for time, suddenly changed her attitude and raised her eyebrows high: "I'll explain later. Vermouth is calling me to the restaurant now."
Bourbon, a member of the organization, had a sudden urge to indulge in his mischievous humor.
He wanted to see what other excuses the FBI would use to stop people.
In a secluded corner, Morofushi Kagemitsu guessed what he was planning to do and looked at him helplessly, but he did not stop him and let his childhood friend play.
Seeing that this tactic wasn't working, Ray's gaze magically shifted to a complex expression: "..."
My eye muscles are no longer weak; I've gone from looking at the floor to looking at bourbon.
Rei Furuya was completely confused: What does that mean?
Shuichi Akai, taking advantage of Bourbon's "unawareness" of the dock scene, played a game of ambiguity.
Undoubtedly, this successfully piqued the interest of the intelligence brokers.
"When did you start embracing mysticism?"
It was impossible for Furuya to show weakness in front of the FBI, so he chose to use the simplest method of provocation.
But he was also facing an excellent undercover investigator and a seasoned intelligence gatherer.
Shuichi Akai remained unmoved and silent, handing the pre-booked room key to Scotland.
Yes, only Scotland.
After giving it to him, he even shrugged at Bourbon with an air of self-righteousness, indicating that he no longer had the room key.
What's the meaning?
Rei Furuya found it hard to believe that his eyes, which he always kept smiling to maintain an air of mystery as Bourbon, were gradually widening up to reveal their original puppy-dog eye shape.
What kind of counterattack is this?
Are the FBI members childish?!
Scotland clutched the room key in his hand, feeling a sudden surge of heat to it, unsure whether to throw it away or keep it.
After looking around, he stepped to the side, leaving the center of the stage to the two of them.
Before Bo could even ask, Shuichi Akai preemptively offered a seemingly well-intentioned reminder: "The partner is staying on the 16th floor, but if you really have that kind of idea, I suggest you book another room."
There were two of them.
It would probably be difficult to defend against them together.
Two Japanese public security officers understood the unspoken meaning of the evil FBI's words: ...
The two, whose values were still relatively normal, were confronted by the free-thinking Americans, and their faces broke down in disbelief.
Morofushi Kagemitsu almost slapped himself in the face, not wanting to open his eyes to see the expressions on the faces of the people next to him.
It was clearly just a honey trap, a common occurrence in the organization and one of Bourbon's signature tricks, but the way he described it made it sound like he was selling himself to the organization.
As expected, Furuya Rei's face immediately darkened, looking as if he had swallowed a fly.
They were foreign flies that flew in from the United States.
He had to admit that the FBI's scheme had succeeded.
If it were an unsuspecting "Bourbon," he wouldn't be fighting with Ray now because he's considering the bigger picture.
"Sometimes I really want to smash your brain open and see what's inside." Bourbon almost let out a cold laugh from his chest, glared at Shuichi Akai, and turned to leave.
He went to the front desk and booked another room, specifically requesting to avoid the 16th floor. At this point, he was quite annoyed with Scotland: "I'm going to write a report."
Leigh and Scotland were left standing there, staring at each other in bewilderment.
The culprit shrugged without a trace of remorse: "I thought he would at least retort sarcastically, wishing me luck in getting noticed by a business partner or something."
Upon hearing this, Scotland's expression became even more strange, and he seemed about to say something but then stopped.
He tried to speak several times but didn't know what to say, so he finally gave up and followed Bourbon, who hadn't gone far.
Team spirit and such are things that never existed in the first place, let alone trying to save them.
As soon as Morofushi Hiromitsu stepped into the elevator, Furuya Rei slammed the button to close the elevator door, his handsome face still contorted: "No, is he crazy?"
Still secretly relieved that Furuya Rei had left early, Morofushi Kagemitsu knew that at this time, he could only appease this guy and forced himself to suppress the urge to speak ill of him: "Hmm...maybe."
Rei Furuya stated unequivocally: "He's just sick!"
Although he knew it was his boyfriend who came, Shuichi Akai didn't!
Moreover, there was another police officer colleague present.
One mouth can ruin the reputation of three people.
The FBI is utterly shameless and has no bottom line!
...
Shuichi Akai sat on the sofa in the lobby, watching the elevator slowly ascend on one side, while the other side stopped at the top floor and began to slowly descend shortly afterward.
Given Bourbon's arrogance and his inexplicable dislike of himself, he probably wouldn't take the initiative to approach her.
He took out a cigarette with satisfaction, and was about to light it when he noticed the hotel's no-smoking sign and put the lighter away, leaving the unlit cigarette in his mouth.
He kept his achievements and fame hidden.
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