November 6, 2000, Sunday.
A black Mercedes-Benz S500 was parked in a temporary parking area in Asakusa-cho, Taito Ward. Sitting in the back seat, Fujiwara Yu was enjoying a hamburger that White had bought at a nearby fast food restaurant while looking at the intelligence files on his laptop.
As an agent, his time is limited, so if he wants to get more intelligence and complete the task as quickly as possible, he can only compress some of the time that can be saved.
Shigehiko Tsuchiguchi's willingness to cooperate also gave Fujiwara Yuu another spy in Tokyo. After all, he was a member of parliament, so he must be more sensitive to the "gossip" in the political world. He only needed to provide corresponding help to protect his family.
Besides, the organization is not aware of his ulterior motives yet. As long as he does not leak the evidence, Tunkou Shigehiko will be very safe. He does not need to worry that the organization will suddenly kill him without knowing.
White, sitting in the driver's seat, sipped his glass of iced orange juice. He noticed the large red lantern across the street with the words "Thunder Gate" written on it. Turning to look at Claire, his tone was filled with uncontrollable excitement.
"Mr. Claire! Do we have no more missions to complete today?"
"Um."
Catching a glimpse of White's expression from the corner of his eye, Fujiwara Yu calmly closed his laptop after saving the document. He had already guessed what White was thinking, but he still asked knowingly:
"Do you want to take a vacation? Or do you want to go sightseeing somewhere?"
"Hey, sir, stop teasing me. You've already seen that I want to go to Sensoji Temple, right?" White was quite perceptive, otherwise he wouldn't have passed the selection and become an agent. He smiled sheepishly and said, "Well... sir, can you lend me some money?"
"Are you doing charity again and donating the money to the orphanage?"
"Well, because the old dean is not in good health, he needs money."
"Direct transfer?"
White was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood what his boss meant and waved his hand.
"No, I asked the CIA to send the money directly to the old director. The old director only knew that someone was secretly funding the orphanage, and he didn't know it was me."
"Well, you're pretty smart." Fujiwara Yuu patiently instructed, "When you're out there, you must always remember your identity as an agent. You must not reveal the location of the safe house. You must avoid surveillance and cameras as much as possible. If necessary, you must use the fake identity provided by the CIA."
"Well, I understand all this. But... sir, the car you gave me doesn't seem to be suitable for the fake identity the CIA arranged for me?" White said awkwardly.
"What fake identity did the CIA arrange for you?"
"...a wandering painter."
Fujiwara Yuu glared, his eyes half-mooned, speechless. White couldn't even draw a stick figure properly. He wondered if the CIA staff responsible for arranging fake identities would be more attentive. He suddenly felt a headache and sighed.
"I'll have the CIA help you change your identity. You can be a freelancer from now on. If anyone asks you about your background, just tell them you're in the financial investment business."
"Okay, sir, what do we do now?"
"Let's go, today is our day off."
"Hey! That's great!"
White, who is only 20 years old this year, still has the childishness of a teenager. Or it can be said that he was forced to give up his childhood and childlike innocence in order to take care of his younger brother in the orphanage when he was young, so that after he grew up and got a decent job, he still has the childlike innocence.
But this is not a bad thing. It is good to maintain a young and positive attitude.
As the only existing "Edo-style" public entertainment place in Japan, Senso-ji Temple is very popular with overseas tourists. As the two walked into the gate, they found that many of the conversations coming from their ears were incomprehensible.
Fujiwara Yuu put his hands in his pockets, looking rather uninterested. He had come with White to experience the shrine, or rather, to cover his expenses. White, on the other hand, looked like a newcomer to the city, looking around and finding everything new and interesting. He was particularly taken aback by the sight of the snack street.
"Mr. Clare, what are those skewers? They look delicious."
Fujiwara Yu looked in the direction White pointed and found a shop specializing in selling three-color meatballs. The manager was carefully preparing the sweet red bean paste to go with the meatballs.
He didn't ask White if he wanted to eat, because generally speaking, people who said that were definitely ready to eat. So he simply raised a finger and said to the store manager who was stirring the red bean paste:
"Hello, please give me a three-color meatball."
"Okay, sir, would you like it with soy sauce or red bean paste? Of course, if you don't like either, you can order the original flavor."
"One box of each, please."
"Three skewers per box? Isn't that too much?"
"It's okay, he has a big appetite."
Fujiwara Yu calmly took out a 10,000 yen bill, put the change back into his wallet, and then handed the three-colored meatballs in a plastic box to White, who was already drooling. He was not very interested in sweets made outside. The only desserts he was interested in were in Sendai, which were not available in Tokyo.
He watched White transform the three-colored meatball into a wooden skewer in one gulp. Making food disappear instantly was quite a feat. He even felt that buying three was the right decision. Nine skewers of meatballs were finished in less than five minutes. Judging from his expression, he seemed quite unsatisfied.
"You still want to eat, don't you?"
"May I?"
White's beautiful olive green eyes were a little wet at the moment. It was not because Maruko made him cry because of the deliciousness of Maruko, but he simply wanted to use this trick to seduce his boss's wallet.
Fujiwara Yuu was quite quick to pay, but his inner thoughts were quite malicious. After seeing White enthusiastically buying three boxes of three-color meatballs, he couldn't control his venomous tongue and said bluntly:
"Glutinous rice is a difficult food to digest. If you eat too much at once... it's not good."
"?"
"I mean, be careful about constipation."
"cough--"
White never expected to hear words related to "shit, piss and fart" from his boss's mouth, and how did he manage to tell such an unfunny toilet joke with such a nonchalant expression? Didn't the gentleman see that he was eating?
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Fujiwara Yu just moved half a body to the side to avoid the soy sauce glutinous rice dumpling that was half-chewed and sprayed out of his mouth, but his action also caused a sticky substance with brown and green mixed in it to appear on the pink kimono of an innocent passerby.
He silently withdrew his gaze and pretended that he saw nothing. White, who also noticed the problem, was too embarrassed to reach out to help pick it off. After all, the ball happened to be attached to the coccyx. If he made a move, he would probably be regarded as a pervert.
"Um... sir, let's go draw a fortune? You have to draw a fortune to buy an amulet when you come to the shrine, right?"
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