Chapter 83 Artificial Weapons 19

The night before, when Sakura was lying on the bed, embraced by the soft quilt, Toru Amuro was sitting beside the bed looking at him.

The rain outside the window stopped, and the pale cheeks of the cherry trees were reflected by a faint light from the dreamlike moon.

Perhaps the quilt made him too hot, and a faint blush appeared on his face among the scattered freckles.

Toru Amuro quietly left the bedroom and installed eavesdropping devices in various places in the safe house - using the stock in the safe house.

This safe house is not registered in the public security system. The only ones who know about its existence are Toru Amuro and Yuya Kazami.

It was the latter who set up this place at the behest of the former.

Initially, it was to guard against possible undercover organizations lurking in the high-level public security departments, and to avoid the recurrence of tragedies like the one that happened to Morobu Kagemitsu.

When he heard Sakura's voice on the phone, the address of this place appeared in Amuro Toru's mind uncontrollably.

Absolutely private and absolutely safe.

He brought the cherries here without informing anyone - neither the organization nor the police.

Then, the next day, he prepared to continue to participate in the organization's meeting as if nothing had happened, and discussed with Gin, Vermouth and others where the FBI hid Cherry and how they could get him back.

The organization has deduced that the FBI stole the cherries.

In other words, Cherry escaped from the FBI and wanted to return to him first.

Toru Amuro did not ask Sakura too much about the details of the escape, as his reasoning ability was sufficient to make inferences.

There were wounds of all sizes on the other person's body, some of which had scabbed over and cracked, and some of which were obviously caused recently... but without exception, they were all torn not long ago - perhaps ten minutes, perhaps tens of minutes - all due to violent movements.

The wound became soft due to the rain, and even the blood seemed to fade.

The injured man looked at him quietly with clear eyes.

The wounds all over his body did not cause him to show any expression that indicated pain and discomfort.

He felt no pain.

Toru Amuro had vaguely known this a long time ago.

Such ability is definitely not a good thing.

There were still obvious marks of shackles on his wrists, ankles and thin neck.

Two parallel blood lines were left on the snow-white skin, which looked like they had been scabbed over and rubbed off repeatedly.

"Does it hurt?"

Even though he knew that the other person didn't feel any pain, Toru Amuro couldn't help but ask.

"It doesn't hurt at all." After hearing his words, Sakura, who had just put her arm down, spoke with pride.

Perhaps because he hadn't spoken for a long time, his voice was not as bright as before, but slightly hoarse.

He looked at Toru Amuro and gently pressed his brow with his pale hand with blood on its fingertips.

"Don't look like that, Bourbon. I'm not hurt."

At the organized rally site, in the dilapidated and dim old factory, a blond young man came late.

He had his usual smile on his face, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

"I'm sorry, I'm late. But I've got accurate information. The FBI bought an abandoned pharmaceutical company in Tokyo's xx district and converted it into a simple research institute. Cherry Brandy is probably there."

Gin, who was getting impatient, relaxed his frown a little when he heard the news from Bourbon. "Is the news reliable?"

These intelligence personnel all have their own intelligence sources, and generally speaking, other members will not investigate the source of the intelligence.

"Of course," Bourbon paused as everyone was watching, as if to confirm that his voice would be heard by everyone, and then he slowly said, "This is about the FBI, so of course I have to confirm it clearly so that I can send them all to hell one by one."

"You really do hate those guys... but I'm almost the same." Vermouth flicked her long platinum curly hair, "Now that we have determined the address, let's hurry up and rescue poor Cherry... If it's too late, I'm afraid it will be bad."

"What? Are you afraid that it will be too late and there will be one less dog to sleep with?" Chianti was very clear when she could scold Bermode. She didn't have any opinion on Cherry Brandy. To be more precise, she didn't know this person at all, but that didn't stop her from scolding him as a whole.

Belmode ignored her and sneered.

Gin knew why Vermouth said that.

If it's too late, the man-made weapon will activate its self-destruction program, which will be disastrous.

The organization has no spare experimental subject that can replace him.

However, Gin did not lose his mind. "First find out the FBI's deployment, and then take action."

Finally, the action was scheduled for three days later.

Bourbon and Bermode were assigned to an action team. The two had worked together many times. After the rally, Bourbon drove Bermode back to the luxury apartment she bought in Tokyo.

In the car, the two chatted for a while.

"You seem to be very concerned about this matter. Is it because the opponent is the FBI?"

"That's only part of the reason. As you know, Cherry has been working beside me for a while. He's really useful..."

Bermode understood and said in a confused tone, "You are such a jerk. You treat me like a tool... just like your car..."

Amuro Toru looked at her in surprise through the rearview mirror and smiled, "If you put it that way, don't you think he's a tool?"

He teased, "I never thought you were so kind."

Bermode heard the sarcasm in the other person's words and leaned against the car window with his chin in his hand. "It's really annoying to hear you talk sometimes."

"Kindness? It has nothing to do with that."

"It's just...don't you think? That child is really cute. No matter how you treat him, he will still believe everything you say and do everything you ask. He is like a blank piece of paper. He will become whatever color you paint on it."

"You seem to know him well?"

"Not really. But I did meet him when he was very young."

Bourbon glanced at her.

Vermouth was immersed in his thoughts, as if he had crossed through time and space, and saw the little boy from that year in his memory again.

"I first saw him at the research institute. I heard that the child was picked up from the street by a researcher. He was probably abandoned by an irresponsible mother."

"He seemed to be only two or three years old at the time. I can't remember clearly."

"He was taken back to the institute as an experimental reserve for artificial weapons."

"I saw him through the one-way glass, sitting in the corner with his knees hugged... Unlike the other children who were crying and making noises, he was silent and quiet, like a ghost that didn't exist."

"I thought he wouldn't live for more than a few years."

"The test subjects of artificial weapons either died from the effects of drugs or went crazy due to long periods of confinement."

"But the child grew up very healthily."

"The second time I met him was three years ago, when he was assigned to assist me in my mission."

"I was holding a rose given to me by someone else when I saw him. I gave him one because I thought he was handsome."

"He took it curiously and asked me, 'What is this?'"

Bermode smiled and said, "Only a fool would ask such a question."

"Later I learned that he was the kid I met that year. He grew up in the laboratory of the institute and was made into the most loyal and sharp knife of the organization, but he had never seen a rose."

"No, not just roses, but everything that is ordinary and common to a normal person. He has never seen it before."

"He cutely took the rose I gave him and nervously asked me, 'Can I pin it in my hair?'"

"Are you telling me all this to arouse my sympathy?" the blond young man in the driver's seat said in a light tone.

Bermode also came back to her senses. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I just suddenly remembered the past." She couldn't help but complain, "Besides, do you have sympathy?"

She knew very well that when dealing with someone like Bourbon, it was better to appeal to his interests directly than to mention his feelings. "Cherry is a very simple and easy to understand person. Aren't you using him very well?"

"Then save him, great intelligence expert."

Bourbon parked the car downstairs of the apartment building, and after Bermode got out of the car, he was the only one left in the enclosed space. The glass in front of him blocked off the bizarre, neon-lit world outside.

He sat in his seat in a daze for a long time and was surprised to find that his palms were covered with sweat.

For so many years...has he just been walking forward looking at this scenery?

Bourbon took out his headphones, which were connected to the wiretap he had left in the safe house.

Although the safe house was hidden and safe enough, he was still worried. He left so many eavesdropping devices there not for monitoring, but for protection.

The room was very quiet. He heard a bird chirping. It seemed that the window was open and the wind was blowing outside.

I changed several rooms but didn't hear Cherry's voice until I switched to the bathroom.

The sound of water splashing could be clearly heard, and Bourbon judged that it was the sound of water being filled in the bathtub.

Do you want to take a shower?

Bourbon checked the time. It was 4:37 p.m.

This is not a good time to take a shower.

After a while, the sound of water stopped.

Then, there was the sound of something falling to the floor. It was a crisp sound, like something made of metal.

Then, Cherry's body sank into the water.

Silence returns to the headphones.

Bourbon suddenly realized something.

This street doesn't allow long parking. The white Mazda had been parked on the side of the road for a while. The traffic police walked towards the car, intending to communicate with the driver. When he came to the back of the car, the Mazda suddenly started and rushed out. The traffic police was caught off guard and was hit by a mouthful of exhaust gas.

"I don't intend to give you a ticket, why are you driving so fast!" the traffic policeman cursed.

Bourbon frantically called the safe house number repeatedly.

Pick it up quickly!

He stepped on the accelerator to the floor, the wheels spinning so fast that the car was almost leaving the ground and flying. But he still felt it was not fast enough.

It normally takes him 30 minutes to run the distance, but he finished it in just 8 minutes.

In order to avoid running a red light, he took a detour and the side wing of his car scraped against the wall, leaving a scratch about half a meter long. During this period, he also drove in the wrong direction three times to avoid surveillance.

The Mazda stopped deep in the forest and Bourbon rushed into the bathroom of the safe house.

A pool of bloody water, with a pale and delicate doll sleeping in the red water. One of his arms was resting on the edge of the bathtub, his head was resting on it, his eyelashes were dripping with water, and his expression was peaceful and calm. It was as if he was asleep.

The blood-stained knife fell to the floor.

Last night, Toru Amuro used this knife to cut the ingredients and made a bowl of udon noodles.