Chapter 721 Although deceiving others is immoral
Because he was really worried, Amuro Tooru put down his work and went back to the safe house.
As he expected, he saw Behefinger cloaked there, but to his surprise, Gin, Vermouth, Chianti, and others, as well as Berry, were also there.
Upon seeing him appear, Chianti raised an eyebrow. "Oh, isn't this Bourbon? You've come back to watch the show too?"
Bourbon: "..."
He ignored them and turned to look at Behringer.
Chianti didn't pay much attention, since their focus was more on Asti and Bertrand.
At that moment, Bertrand stood in front of him, holding a knife in his hand and gesturing at Behringer in the air, looking at him with a conflicted expression as if he was struggling to decide where to strike.
Behrfinger stood there motionless and silent, seemingly acknowledging his dereliction of duty.
Bertrandez, with a grin on his face and a sweet tone, said, "You didn't protect Chi-chan properly, so I'm going to punish you now~"
After saying that, he raised the knife in his hand and was about to stab Behringer in the shoulder.
Bourbon outwardly appeared to be watching a show, but in reality, his fingertips twitched with tension. He almost completely forgot the advice Behringer had given him to "not act too familiar with him" and rushed over to slap Bertrand's hand away.
But his strong willpower made him quickly dismiss such thoughts.
With a feigned calm in his eyes, Bertrand suddenly stopped, the tip of the knife now only two centimeters from Behringer.
"No, I really hate Asti right now, so I don't want blood to spray on me..."
He sheathed the knife, muttered to himself in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, paused for two seconds, then suddenly turned to look at Bourbon, his expression turning into a bright smile, "Bourbon~"
"What do you want me to do?" Bourbon's internal alarm bells were ringing. He even knew exactly what Bertrand would ask him to do next.
"You can help me then~" Bertrand said with a grin. Before he could refuse, she ran over and pushed him in front of Behringer, shoved the knife in his hand into his, and then ran to the sofa to sit down and watch the show.
The others, though puzzled by Bertrand's behavior, also felt it was reasonable, so they silently watched Bourbon without saying a word.
Sitting upright on the sofa like a well-behaved child, Bertrand smiled at Bourbon, "Stab him in the shoulder, okay?"
Bourbon gripped the knife in his hand slightly, his mind racing with thoughts. He slowly raised his hand holding the knife, but stopped halfway down.
"You're not going to use the charge of harming members of the organization for no reason to do something to me later, are you?"
He turned and stared at Bertrand. A half-smile played on his lips.
Bertrand blinked, looking confused, and asked, "Why do you think that? I'm the one who asked you to do it, aren't I?"
Seeing his seemingly innocent yet utterly unyielding demeanor, Bourbon's heart sank slightly. He subtly glanced at the others, who were mostly watching with amusement, before finally fixing his gaze on the statue-like Behringer, his hand hesitant to raise the knife.
Seeing this, Bertrand laughed and threw a torch. "What's wrong, Bourbon? Are you having trouble bringing yourself to do it?"
Berry, standing to the side, glanced at Bourbon, who, despite being partners, hadn't partnered with her much, and a hint of curiosity flashed in her eyes.
She felt that Bertrand was testing Bourbon.
But she didn't know why. After all, according to the organization's discussions, both Bourbon and Asti were mystics. They had hardly ever met, and the probability of them knowing each other and being familiar with each other was very low.
Bourbon was trying to find a reason to refuse, but he found that many reasons were invalid. Refusing directly or leaving could only temporarily avoid this problem, but it would easily lead him into a vortex of doubt afterwards.
but.
He couldn't bring himself to lay a hand on his own friend.
Bourbon was about to lower his hand holding the knife when it was suddenly grabbed.
His eyes widened slightly, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
"Pfft—"
A bright red color splattered as the red-hot knife was pulled out.
Because of their positioning and the concealment of Behffiner's cloak, the onlookers didn't notice that Behffiner had taken Bourbon's hand and stabbed himself.
Bourbon, who was closest to him, could clearly hear his breathing, which was slightly heavier due to the pain.
"Wow, so decisive, Bourbon~ Then let's make another cut~" Bertrand clapped his hands with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Behringer, seemingly conflicted. "Let me see where the next cut should go."
"Hmm... places that might interfere with Asti's operations are no good, so... let's just stab him again in that spot!"
The silver-haired boy even sat up straight with some excitement and anticipation, and then added with some unspoken thoughts, "Losing an arm shouldn't affect his mobility, right? If possible, Bourbon could remove his entire shoulder!"
It sounded ruthless, but the others didn't seem to care, because to them it was just a basic tactic of this little madman, Bertrand. Besides, it was just Asti's arm, right? If it's gone, it's gone; there are other 'Asti's' in the organization.
However, the "other 'Aste'" that Berry and the others envisioned was not the same concept as the one that Gin and Vermouth were thinking of.
Not many people know that Asti is under the control of Bertrand.
Bourbon had also speculated about it, but he had always ruled out this option, and later the suspicion gradually became smaller than an ant.
When Bertrand asked him to stab someone again, Bourbon paused for a moment, then chuckled and replied, "I'm not a madman like you. I don't like doing things like breaking someone's arm."
Bertrand shrugged at his words and continued to stare at him to see if he would strike again.
Behringer reached out and gently tugged at his clothes, signaling him to hurry up and do it.
There's a saying, "The sooner you die, the sooner you're reborn." Hurry up, hurry up and get started, I have to rush to other events too.
Bechfenger thought to himself, "I want to minimize the pain."
Although it's unethical to deceive others about their emotions, he was genuinely hurt.
Bourbon pursed his lips, but ultimately stabbed him anyway.
Behringer breathed a slight sigh of relief, while Bertrand, sitting on the sofa, pursed his lips slightly and waved his hand to indicate that it was settled.
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