Chapter 81 The Final Test
Even a well-trained police officer can have moments when he can't control his mouth.
For Ryougu Zero, the answer is yes.
Whenever faced with food made by Jingguang, the greedy golden retriever can't control itself. It takes one bite and wants another, and after finishing one, it wants a second.
As the saying goes, food is the most important thing for people.
Food also became an extremely important part of the deep friendship between these two childhood friends, running through their entire growth process.
Starting from first grade, students begin writing compositions, and the topics are always related to daily life or future prospects.
For example, in the essay "The Happiest Thing," other children would write about receiving a surprise birthday gift, going out to play with their parents, or getting first place in an exam. But Jingguang wrote: "The happiest moment is watching Ling eat. Ling eats happily, and I feel happy too. What's even happier is that Ling doesn't get cavities no matter what she eats, and she doesn't gain weight no matter how much she eats. So Ling can keep eating, and I can keep watching!"
For example, in the essay "My Dream," other children dream of becoming teachers, doctors, scientists, and so on. However, Jingguang, who takes it upon himself to care for young children, wrote: "My dream is to be a chef, to cook lots and lots of delicious food every day, and to feed Ling until she's plump and chubby!"
Because of his excellent academic performance from a young age, Jingguang's essays were often used as model texts and read aloud to the whole class. The two kids were quite proud of themselves at the time, but looking back, it's practically a source of a lot of embarrassment!
However, some people have raised questions about this.
Back in police academy, Matsuda once stood up for Kagemitsu, saying, "You blond bastard, how could you eat all the cakes?!"
“Jing originally made this for me to eat, so why can’t I eat it?” Ling retorted indignantly.
Seeing that the blond and curly-haired boys were about to fight, Hagiwara not only did not intend to break them up but also fanned the flames from the side. Kagemitsu had no choice but to forcibly pull the two apart and earnestly explain to Matsuda, "I have loved making all kinds of food for Retsu since I was a child. It's my hobby."
Matsuda shook his curly hair, finding it hard to comprehend how such an oddball could exist. But seeing Kagemitsu's sincere expression, he could only remain silent.
At this moment, Bourbon had no food in front of him, nor his childhood friends or classmates, only Vermouth and a syringe. Bourbon knew that it contained truth serum.
"I knew you weren't being so kind as to invite me to dinner." Bo was stuck in the sofa, unable to move, only able to control the joints and muscles of his head.
“But I did treat you to dinner, Bourbon,” Vermouth reminded her. “I paid for it.”
"I never expected it to be you this time," Bourbon said with a hint of surprise, because in the past, it was always unidentified men in black who did this. What did the change in the interrogator's identity mean? Bourbon had no idea.
He glanced at the vial of medicine and realized it was a new type he had never encountered before, which made him a little nervous.
Lying is human nature; often, people can't even be honest with themselves. So, how do you get the truth out of someone?
Some people succumb to fear, some cannot bear the pain, and some cannot resist temptation…
But there are so many different kinds of people, and everyone's weaknesses are different. Is there a more unified and effective approach?
The principle behind the truth serum developed by the organization is actually quite simple: hypnosis.
When consciousness relaxes and all layers of mental defenses crumble, only the subconscious mind is active, and those secrets that were so carefully guarded can be laid bare.
However, this comes at a price. The actual effects of truth serum vary from person to person, and some people fall into a deep sleep and never wake up again.
The needle pierced his skin, and the cool medicine flowed through his veins. Bourbon imagined those molecular structures traveling through his bloodstream to his cerebral cortex, affecting his central nervous system and gradually causing him to lose control.
Consciousness falls into a deep sleep, sinking into the abyss, while the subconscious slowly rises to take control of the body.
The solution is to, while still conscious, bury the answer to the question in your subconscious. This is difficult, but that's how Bourbon always got through it.
"I just wonder how effective the medicine will be this time?"
Vermouth waited patiently for 15 minutes, estimating that the drug was beginning to take effect, before asking her first question. She showed Bourbon a photograph and whispered in the blond man's ear, "You've seen this woman before. What did you find out?"
"Mia, she is Catherine's illegitimate daughter."
Who is Mia's father?
"have no idea."
"Why? Didn't you check?"
"I couldn't find it... You stopped me from looking it up."
"Bourbon, did you really find nothing?"
"No."
Vermouth observed the interrogator's breathing and heart rate displayed on the equipment; everything was normal. She switched to a second photograph and asked, "You've seen this woman before. When was the last time you saw her?"
"Wakasa Rumi, the last time I saw her in Nagano? That morning of the ball."
"The ball where Sherry was killed?"
"Yes."
"You haven't seen him since?"
"No."
"Bourbon, are you sure? What if this woman is disguised as someone else?"
Bourbon blinked and replied, "You're asking about this one."
Vermouth nodded, then took out the third photograph and asked, "Have you seen this man before?"
"Huh? Who is this?"
"Think again, have you seen anyone who looks similar here?"
Bourbon tilted his head and thought for a long time before answering, "I don't remember."
Bourbon was not lying, because Jingguang had never shown him a photo of Lu Tiannan, and he didn't even know the man's name. He only knew that Jingguang and Akai had used a corpse as a cover.
Vermouth seemed quite satisfied with Bourbon's cooperation, and she prepared to ask the last and most important question: "Why did you become one of us?"
As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together.
So, what kind of "category" divides people into different groups? There are many answers: nationality, religion, race, gender... a wide variety.
But for a large criminal organization like this, what the man needed was an answer that transcended social and physiological attributes: an answer that could build bonds of trust among them.
Where does trust come from? It comes from "class".
Trust between people is often built on similarities: similar ideals, similar life experiences, similar moral foundations... and even when facing people with similar weaknesses, it is easier to open up to them.
This seemingly simple but actually deadly question was one that Amuro Tooru had never encountered in the first few years after joining the organization, but now he had to answer it: it was actually a threshold, and also the final test.
Those who are trained by the organization from childhood do not need to answer this question; loyalty to the organization is the sole meaning of their lives.
However, there are exceptions, such as the Miyano sisters.
In a sense, Mingmei's betrayal was more hateful than Lei's. For the organization, it was a profound disgrace, a challenge to their cherished tradition of loyalty.
The organization could only use the excuse that "being in love has ruined their brains" to cover up the truth. But Sulli's subsequent escape was a slap in the face to their lies.
But aside from these exceptions, the organization still shows great trust in its carefully cultivated "real whiskeys." In contrast, outsiders are less favored. Bourbon joined the organization as an adult, mature, and with his own philosophy of life. Compared to Gin, who was recruited into the whiskey squad at a young age, Bourbon's decision to come here was voluntary.
In other words, what Vermouth really wanted to ask was: "Why choose to remain loyal to that man? What makes you so unwavering? What do you want here? Is there nowhere else for you in this world?"
So, why is that?
This question has no answer in the subconscious.
Bourbon's eyes looked confused and bewildered, which made Vermouth wonder if he was not used to the new truth serum and had not understood the question at all.
Vermouth frowned slightly. Perhaps this question was too convoluted and complicated; she needed to choose a different one. So, what should she ask?
What factors determine a person's career choice?
The innate school believes it is genes, while the nurture school believes it is a certain experience in life: doing certain things and meeting certain people.
The organization has thoroughly analyzed Bourbon's genetic sequence. However, they don't know enough about his life experiences, especially his childhood. That period was extremely crucial, and the events and people he encountered could become important foreshadowing for his future life.
So Vermouth changed to a more direct and simple question: "Who is the most important person in your life?"
A name echoes in the empty valley of my subconscious: Jing.
But the fine, resilient silk thread sealed his mouth, purifying him of that dangerous, forbidden title.
Therefore, to Vermouth, Bourbon was murmuring, "Mama! Mama!"
Vermouth stared, momentarily stunned, at those wet, puppy-dog eyes. She had interrogated many people—some weeping, some having epileptic seizures, some remaining silent. But no one had ever called her "Mom" so directly as Bourbon.
As is well known, the gene for black hair is completely dominant over the gene for blonde hair. Therefore, Bourbon's mother was probably blonde as well.
"But that's no reason for you to call me 'Mom'!"
The blonde woman sighed and continued the interrogation. She looked at Bourbon with the most loving eyes she could muster, and asked softly, "Toru-kun, what do you want to say to your mother?"
"Jing (Mom), I'm hungry..."
"Jing (Mom), shall we go home?"
"Jing (Mom), don't leave me..."
“Jing (Mom)…”
Vermouth listened silently as Bourbon whispered his longing for his mother, knowing that his mother was no longer alive.
"Bourbon, is this the foundation of your life?"
There was still some truth serum left to inject, so instead of increasing the dosage, she put the syringe back.
After an unknown amount of time, Bourbon, who had been in a deep sleep, finally woke up.
He was surprised to find himself lying in bed while Vermouth sat on the sofa smoking, judging from the cigarette butts in the ashtray that he must have slept for quite some time.
Bourbon carefully recalled the details of the interrogation, but he couldn't remember the last part at all, and he broke out in a cold sweat.
"But since you're still alive, it means you've passed the test, right?"
"You're awake?" Vermouth asked indifferently.
"Sorry, I don't know how I fell asleep..."
"It's nothing, it's a normal reaction."
The golden retriever jumped out of bed and tentatively asked, "That thing is really uncomfortable to use, can you let me off the hook next time?"
Bourbon had expected to receive the same "it depends" answer as before, but to his surprise, Vermouth replied, "There won't be a next time."
Bourbon breathed a sigh of relief: "Can I go now?"
"Wait, you still have a mission tonight."
"Huh?"
"It's time to deal with Shuichi Akai."
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