Chapter 12

Dazai Osamu, or the leader of the port mafia who issued the mission, was extremely efficient. At dawn the next day, the group boarded a private plane to Okinawa.

The subordinates who accompanied him were a team that Kono Seiryoshi was familiar with, and they greeted him happily when they saw him.

Kono Seiryoshi smiled and responded, but he couldn't get excited. Before boarding the plane, he noticed that in addition to the members of the elite team, there was also a familiar doctor in the team.

"Those are people from the medical department, right? Is this mission special?" Gongye Shengliang stopped in surprise. The gang didn't carry any weapons except their usual sidearms, which showed that it was not a pure martial arts type that required a gunfight. So why were there doctors on standby?

After hearing his question, the men in black suits looked embarrassed and didn't know whether to answer or not.

It was the doctor who broke the deadlock. He opened the medicine box he brought with him, which contained common hemostatic drugs and bandages. "The leader arranged for me to come here." He raised his chin in the direction of the plane and whispered, "Lord Dazai was hit by a stray bullet while clearing out the rebels yesterday. Today's mission is urgent, and the leader is considerate of his subordinates, so he sent me to follow him."

...Dazai? Was he hit by a bullet?

Dazai???

Kono Seiryoshi looked at the leader of the mafia in disbelief - could that guy have done it on purpose?

The captain nodded heavily.

Well, there's nothing Kimiya Seira can do, it's something Dazai can do.

He took out two brand new bandages and a few antibiotics from the medicine box and said to the doctor, "I will keep an eye on Mr. Dazai's injuries. Keep these bandages as a backup."

The doctor felt relieved, and after briefly stating some precautions, he thanked Kimino Seiryo with gratitude: "If you have any questions, you can contact me anytime." Lord Dazai is so scary, if it weren't for work he wouldn't want to get close to him at all!

When Kono Seiryoshi walked to the front cabin of the plane, "The Terrible Dazai-sama" was leaning crookedly in his seat playing games. The colorful attack special effects were reflected on his expressionless face, and the lines became increasingly cold.

"It's still early, do you want to lie down and rest for a while?" Facing the wounded, Gong Ye Shengliang's tone softened a little, "There are drinks and food too."

The injured man stopped scrolling and looked at him, then lowered his eyes. "I thought Gong Ye-kun didn't want to work with me. You looked very unhappy when I notified you yesterday."

"It's okay." Kono Seiryoshi sat down in a seat across the aisle and recalled his performance the day before. "I'm just a little surprised."

The mission came too suddenly, so he had to reluctantly postpone the appointment with Chuuya. After the latter learned the reason, he sent more than a dozen messages in a row, angrily scolding Dazai Osamu for not caring about his business.

Thinking of this, Kono Seira turned his eyes to the right and took a closer look. The black-haired boy's lips were indeed a little pale. Considering the timeline, I'm afraid that when Dazai went to inform him, he was already injured and went to work.

Insisting on going on a business trip despite being injured - the one who doesn't care about others is not the worker Dazai, but the cold-blooded capitalist Mori Ogai who exploits his employees!

His grief was so obvious that it was hard not to be noticed. Dazai Osamu put the game console aside and looked at Kono Seiryo with his chin in his hand, saying, "At least control your expression. I can tell you're thinking about something very rude."

Kouno Seira sighed and said, "I'm sorry, I misunderstood you all along, Mr. Dazai."

Dazai Osamu: “?”

That's really rude.

After a brief sigh, Kono Seiryoshi quickly got back to work. He looked through the list of accompanying personnel and the destination, and guessed, "Is the purpose of our trip this time to negotiate with other organizations?"

They had no weapons, not many people, and with Dazai Osamu being a quasi-cadre and him being in charge of clerical work, this combination really didn't have much room to maneuver.

After hearing his words, Dazai Osamu's eyes suddenly darkened and he smiled with an ambiguous meaning: "Yes."

The only difference is that the person being negotiated is a dead person.

"A year ago, the Mafia launched a bloody war that lasted 88 days to seize the 500 billion inheritance of a certain superpower. The result of this war was not satisfactory, and part of the inheritance is still missing."

Dazai Osamu fiddled with the game console and continued in a nonchalant tone, "It only takes a little guidance. There will always be some people who lose their temper and think they are flawless. The rats in the dark can hear their calculations."

"According to the interrogation team, part of the missing inheritance was hidden in a cave in Okinawa. In order to avoid any surprise, this operation is very secretive - just like playing a game of hidden treasure."

Dazai Osamu stretched lazily, but just when he stretched halfway, the wound on his abdomen was agitated. His face turned blue and white and twisted.

A slightly cool hand rested on his suit jacket.

Faced with the sudden close contact, Dazai Osamu instinctively wanted to dodge, but the man seemed to have anticipated it and grabbed his arm to prevent him from moving.

His fingers trembled, and finally stopped quietly. Dazai Osamu lowered his eyes and stared at the person who was half-crouching beside him, his expression was surprisingly calm.

Unbuttoning with one hand was a bit troublesome, so Gongye Shengliang moved slowly and lifted up his suit jacket. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that there was no blood on his white shirt. "The wound still hurts, right? Do you want to apply cold compress?"

The wound has been cleaned and medicated by a professional doctor. In addition to preventing infection, you should also be careful not to let the wound split.

Hey, so why do we let people go on business trips even though they are injured? Are they really that indispensable?

Dazai Osamu had already put away his expression. He tilted his head and smiled: "It hurts a lot. Please take care of me for the next few days, Kono-kun."

Seira Kono: "...!"

Suddenly I feel like I have become more majestic...!

He took some ice cubes from the small refrigerator on the plane, wrapped them in two layers of towels, and patiently adjusted the position for fear of hurting Dazai's wound.

During this time, Dazai Osamu acted like a good boy for once, just looking down at him silently. The game console that he was playing in the middle of was thrown aside and no one paid any attention to it.

Although Kimino Mutsuhiro currently looks like a teenager of the same age as Dazai Osamu, Kimino Seira still sees himself as an adult and believes that it is his duty to take care of injured minors.

He tested the temperature of the ice pack, fastened his seat belt, and adjusted the seat to a comfortable angle. He then set the time to replace the ice before it melted.

After a series of busy work was completed, a roar was heard outside the plane, and then it took off smoothly.

"I already understand the mission." Kono Seira turned on the reading light on his seat, opened the encrypted file just sent from the port mafia intelligence department, and smiled at Dazai Osamu, "Please have a good rest."

The heavy curtains blocked most of the light, and the cabin was dim. The orange glow of the reading light tinted the ends of his gray-silver hair with just the right amount of warmth. His smile was gentle, his eyes were focused, and every minute and every second was extremely vivid.

That small ball of warm color was reflected in Dazai Osamu's eyes. It was not large in area, but it had a temperature that seemed enough to burn people.

Dazai Osamu blinked, and his fingers under the thin blanket curled up and clenched unconsciously.

As if he was angry with someone, he turned around and covered the lower half of his face with a blanket, trying to hide the inexplicable emotions in his heart. After a long while, a muffled voice came from inside: "Call me when you get there."

Kono Seiryoshi responded briskly.

--

The news of the inheritance was delivered directly to Dazai Osamu yesterday by the interrogation team under the name of officer Ozaki. It was done in a short time and with high efficiency. I am afraid that except for Mori Ou, Ozaki Momiji and Dazai Osamu, no one else knew anything about it. The purpose was to block the information channels of the forces that were also trying to get their hands on this black money, and to get the money without bloodshed.

Personnel were also screened and selected to rule out the possibility of undercover agents and traitors.

In order to avoid attracting attention, this flight was disguised as an ordinary sightseeing trip. The speed was neither fast nor slow, and it landed safely on a private helipad in Okinawa more than two hours later.

Gongye Shengliang closed his sore eyes and rubbed his eye sockets.

He tried his best to focus on the documents during the trip, but his physiological reflexes still kicked in. Fortunately, the flight time was not too long, otherwise he might have called for a doctor before the real injured.

He opened the curtain a little and made sure the surroundings and intelligence were correct before unbuckling his seat belt. When he stood up, he felt dizzy and his eyes went dark. He held onto the seat and took a deep breath.

He tiptoed towards Dazai Osamu and was about to wake him up when he saw the man who had originally closed his eyes suddenly open them with clear vision without a trace of sleepiness.

The iris-colored eyes turned to Kono Seiyoshi, but then moved away quickly, contrary to his usual behavior.

Kono Seira, who was bending down to check the wound, did not notice it. He took off the ice. Because the ice was replaced in time and a towel was wrapped around it, Dazai Osamu's shirt was not wet.

I'll wait until we get to the hotel to check if I have any inflammation, he thought, but then he saw a shadow flash by. Dazai Osamu, holding his windbreaker in one hand, passed him and strode towards the exit.

“Dazai…?”

Kono Seira stood there in a daze for a few seconds.

Wait, his stride is so long, doesn’t the wound hurt?

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I don’t know what to say, so I’ll just give you all a kiss of love!