"And your...your outfit is too tacky. You could wear something more appropriate for your age."
Hondou Eikai quickly stepped forward and looked down, and saw Fujiwara Yu jumping from the third floor, bending down, patting his trouser legs that were stained by the dust flying from the asphalt road, and then walking away.
Her athleticism is truly terrifying, exactly the same as when we met two years ago. And her tongue is as sharp as ever. What do you mean by "the outfit is too tacky"? This is the most popular professional attire for women right now, okay?
But then again, it seems Claire never really liked going through the front door. Hondou Eikai couldn't help but recall the time they'd been on a mission together two years ago. He seemed to enjoy climbing stairs and climbing through windows; if you didn't know him well, you'd think he was a real-life Spider-Man.
She reached out to close the balcony door and locked it carefully, then walked towards the bathroom while muttering:
"I never thought my young boss's bad habits wouldn't change even after two years."
Fujiwara Yuu, who disappeared from Hondou Eikai's sight, walked towards the nearby open-air parking lot in the night and stopped in front of the parking space on the far right.
Parked in the parking space is a 1988 BMW R1200C, with a retro Prince style, leather side bags and a foldable rear seat. The mix of lacquered wood and ivory white is also very rare. Even though it is a model from 12 years ago, the paint color is still as bright as new. It can be seen that the owner of the motorcycle has maintained it very well.
Fujiwara Yuu is a nostalgic type, and this motorcycle has been with him for nearly three years, so he simply shipped it back to Japan, which also saved some expenses. Working people naturally have to be more frugal.
Of course, he was not dissatisfied with CIA's salary. You know, with an annual salary of 10 million yen, he could live a relatively comfortable life in a high-priced city like Tokyo.
Fujiwara Yu easily straddled his motorcycle, donned his black helmet, and entered his destination into the motorcycle's GPS navigation system. He pulled a headset from his pocket, put it on his ear, and dialed an overseas number on his phone before starting the motorcycle.
After two busy tones came from the headset, the other party quickly answered the call, and there was a hint of nervousness and anticipation in his tone:
"Claire, have you seen her? How has she... been doing recently?"
"She's doing well, and she's already got the organization's codename." Fujiwara Yuu naturally didn't mention how he'd "scared" Hondou Eikai. He said in a light tone, "Mr. Herbert, you can rest assured."
The other party couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he heard this. He reached out and lifted the strands of hair on his forehead. He felt a little lonely at the thought that he couldn't meet his two children, but it was good enough that he was alive now.
That's right, his real name wasn't Herbert Mitchell; it was just a pseudonym after his faked death. His original identity was CIA agent Yinsen Hondou. But after his failed rendezvous mission last January, he'd gone into hiding, even changing his demeanor by dyeing his hair and growing a beard, to the point where even acquaintances couldn't recognize him.
Yinsen Hondou did not work at the CIA in his new identity. Instead, he used the money sponsored by Fujiwara Yu to start a clothing company. Currently, the company is very popular in the United States, and many of its avant-garde designs have attracted the favor of the fashion circle.
However, Yinsen Hondou did not know the real purpose of Fujiwara in opening this company - he disliked the current clothes as being too tacky. As a man from the future, he really could not stand this Renaissance style of dress, and he invested in and opened this company out of his intolerance.
Fortunately, fashion needs human inspiration. He created various popular elements for later generations, which inspired people in the fashion circle to start designing avant-garde things.
"I'm glad she's okay. I'll have to trouble you to take good care of her in the future." Yinsen Hondou felt that there was still hope in life when he thought about the chance to reunite with his children in the future. He was grateful from the bottom of his heart to Fujiwara Yu for giving him a new life.
If Fujiwara Yu had not been more cautious and habitually prepared for the worst, he would not have allowed himself to carry a plasma bag, thereby deceiving the two inexperienced grassroots staff and buying time for Fujiwara to arrive and take away his fake death.
So in order to repay the favor, he chose to change his identity and escape from the control of the CIA. He secretly investigated the truth behind the death of Fujiwara's father Fujiwara Kazuya and found the CIA insider hiding in the dark.
"Of course. I still need to contact the teacher, so I'll hang up first."
"Okay, remember to rest early when you get back."
Seeing that the green light ahead had turned yellow, as a law-abiding and not-in-a-rush citizen, Fujiwara Yu naturally slowed down the car and stopped behind the white line. He hung up the phone, rummaged through the address book, found another number, and dialed it directly.
The slender fingers tapped the odometer cover rhythmically. The person he was talking to obviously didn't notice the sound of the phone. According to the time in the United States, he was probably enjoying lunch.
[By the way, the best app for reading and listening to books right now is Yeguo Reading, .yeguoyuedu. Install the latest version.]
He suddenly remembered that the other party would habitually turn his phone to silent mode while enjoying lunch, so he hung up the call and chose to wait for the other party to see the missed call and call him back.
After the red light turned green, Fujiwara Yuu started his motorcycle and rushed to the Haido Grand Hotel, the best hotel in Haido Town. He never treated himself badly when it came to accommodations, as poor accommodations could lead to insomnia, which would make him less alert for the next day's mission, and lack of energy would make him more likely to make mistakes. Therefore, he believed that choosing a good hotel was essential.
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