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Liquor was still best when it came from China.
Steven couldn't get used to foreign alcohol. It always felt like something was missing, a certain warmth, a certain soul.
"Sorry, we don't have that."
"What kind of trash bar doesn't even stock Erguotou? That's just embarrassing."
Steven rolled his eyes and complained. The bartender could only spread his hands helplessly.
"Got absinthe? I'll take a glass."
If he couldn't drink Chinese liquor, he might as well try an old acquaintance.
Absinthe was Vermouth's codename in the Organization.
"What is this supposed to mean?"
Gin's eyes darkened as he stared at the object Steven had tossed onto the table. His voice dropped to an icy whisper.
If this were anyone else, he'd already have a gun pressed to their forehead.
"A little surprise for you. Why don't you open it?"
Steven kept him in suspense.
"Sir, your absinthe."
The bartender set down the glass, his gaze drifting to the round bundle on the table. A faint metallic stench of blood lingered in the air.
Gin lifted his head and shot him a vicious look. The bartender's spine went cold, and he hurried away without another word.
Taking the hint, Vodka carefully unwrapped the sheet.
Inside was Jo Murakami's head.
The face was turned perfectly toward Gin, eyes bulging wide, dead and glassy, like a fish pulled from the water. It looked as though Jo Murakami' had died full of resentment, ready to return as a vengeful ghost.
"What are you trying to say?"
Gin's pupils shrank as he asked coldly.
Even for someone who killed without blinking, the sudden sight of Jo Murakami''s severed head still sent a jolt through him.
When the Organization executed traitors or targets marked for death, it was always quick. One bullet, clean and final. They never went as far as chopping off someone's head.
"Didn't you tell me to handle it cleanly?" Steven said casually. "So I brought his head back. Saves you the trouble of wondering whether he's really dead."
"Bartender, another absinthe."
Calm as ever, Steven flicked open his lighter and lit a cigarette.
"Are you trying to make a statement?" Gin laughed softly, a sound that carried danger.
"Misunderstanding," Steven said. "I was just worried I wouldn't be able to prove I finished the job. What if you denied it? I can't exactly squeeze you flat or roll you round. That'd be a lot of work for nothing."
"What I brought back isn't a head. It's proof."
He tapped ash from his cigarette, his tone carrying a hint of provocation.
Even if it was a show of force, so what?
With the system's full-resurrection ability, even if he couldn't win head-on against the Organization, he had more than enough time to grind Gin and the rest of the elites down.
"The Organization has dedicated intelligence personnel," Gin said flatly. "They verify mission completion. You won't need to bring back evidence in the future."
On the surface, he remained composed. Inside, his anger was shooting through the roof.
"My fault?" Steven pouted, looking downright aggrieved. "You didn't explain it clearly when you gave me the job."
Infuriating someone without consequences was practically a talent.
Gin's blood pressure spiked. He wanted nothing more than to put a bullet through Steven's head and send him to join Jo Murakami'.
"Boss," Vodka cut in quickly, sensing the tension, " Steven's new. It's understandable if he doesn't know all the rules yet."
Gin shot Vodka a look. "Take care of Jo Murakami''s head."
Leaving it around would be handing evidence straight to the Japanese police. It had to be disposed of properly.
This kind of technical cleanup was best left to an experienced hand.
"Yes, Boss."
Vodka wrapped the head back up and carried it out of the bar.
"Congratulations on passing the test," Gin said. "From now on, you're an elite member of the Organization and will receive the benefits that come with it."
"Elite members go by codenames. Yours will be 'Cocktail.'"
His gaze fell on the half-glass of cocktail sitting in front of him.
Holy hell.
Was this how the Organization picked codenames? Whatever drink happened to be in front of Gin at the moment?
If some poor bastard joined while Gin was drinking that Mianyang 'horse semen' liquor, would his codename end up being 'Semen'?
Steven complained inwardly, deeply resistant to Gin making the decision for him.
"'Cocktail' doesn't sound great," he said. "Feels… off."
"Fine. Pick one yourself."
Gin frowned slightly. There weren't many people in the Organization who dared to push back against him.
But Steven was someone Gin had personally recruited. No matter how irritated he was, he had to swallow it for now. He wasn't about to let his subordinates laugh at his poor judgment.
"How do you ease your worries? Only Dukang," Steven said with a grin. "I'll be Dukang."
"Dukang?" Gin looked skeptical. "That sounds more like a Chinese name than a liquor."
"In ancient China, there was a man named Dukang," Steven explained smoothly. "Back in the Xia Dynasty, he pioneered the technique of brewing clear liquor using sticky sorghum."
"Later generations named the wine Dukang to honor his contribution."
Seeing that Gin knew nothing about Chinese liquor history, Steven took the opportunity to confidently spin his story.
If you don't believe me, look it up.
He wasn't worried. His explanation was mostly true, with just enough embellishment to pass.
Choosing Dukang as his codename was also a statement of ambition.
The origins of Chinese liquor culture have always been debated.
But many experts believe Dukang wine was the earliest form of clear liquor.
In Steven's mind, Dukang was the ancestor of all alcohol, a name that represented every kind of wine there was.
Taking Dukang as his codename meant more than just surpassing Gin. It meant forcing the shadowy boss, Renya Karasuma, to bow his head as well.
Unfortunately, as a Japanese man, Gin completely missed the romance and hidden meaning behind it.
At that very moment, somewhere else—
"Achoo!"
Renya Karasuma sneezed, rubbing his nose as unease stirred in his chest.
"It's lonely at the top. There are always peasants who want to seize the throne."
"Tch. Superstitious nonsense."
As the boss of the Organization, he didn't take it seriously.
With so many elite operatives protecting him, Karasuma never worried about his safety.
Back at the bar.
"If that liquor exists, then fine," Gin said. "We'll go with your choice."
"Welcome to the Organization, Dukang."
He stubbed out his cigarette and extended his hand.
"I'll devote the rest of my life to the Organization," Steven said solemnly, shaking it. "I'll follow Lord Gin, make us bigger and stronger, and create even greater glory."
"So what's my next assignment?"
Gin replied, "Go back to Tokyo with Vermouth first. She'll arrange everything for you. When there's a suitable mission, I'll notify you."
How considerate.
Being paired with Vermouth was more than fine by Steven. He was thrilled.
Plenty of time to explore the mysteries of the human body together.
"Sounds good!"
Steven let go of Gin's hand and vanished from the bar in a flash.
Once he was gone, Gin checked the time.
He'd given Steven three days to complete the test mission. From the moment the task was assigned to the moment Steven returned with Jo Murakami''s head, less than six hours had passed.
Subtract travel time and a few… other delays, and the actual execution probably took no more than an hour.
"Loose mouth, always talking back," Gin muttered to himself, lifting the remaining cocktail. "But his efficiency is undeniable. If things go well, he might become my right-hand man."
He drained the glass, then pulled out his phone and called the Organization's true boss.
In a dimly lit room, Renya Karasuma listened to Gin's report in silence.
Anyone crazy enough to bomb the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department probably wasn't an undercover agent.
But someone who caused that much chaos would be hard to control.
"Can you keep him in line?" Karasuma asked slowly.
When he first founded the Organization, all he wanted was to gather top experts to secretly research a drug that could reverse aging: APTX4869.
If they succeeded, the profits alone would be staggering. With that capital, he could build a new world.
But human nature was unpredictable. Traitors kept appearing within the Organization.
Gin's unit handled security, transactions, and expansion, but also the elimination of traitors.
Blowing up buildings, setting fires, sometimes even deploying helicopters and heavy weapons. Their high-profile methods quickly drew the attention of governments around the world.
Unsurprisingly, the Organization was labeled a terrorist group.
Every time Karasuma thought about it, he felt nothing but bitterness.
Wouldn't it be better to stay hidden and quietly research APTX4869? Then, once the time was right, rise up and build a new world?
Why attract global attention and ruin his carefully laid plans?
Still, Gin had always been loyal and effective. Karasuma couldn't bring himself to be too harsh.
"Dukang may be arrogant," Gin said, "but at heart, he's just someone who loves money. As long as we pay enough, betrayal won't be an issue."
"Besides, he's already the top wanted criminal for both Japanese police and the FBI. Without the Organization, where could he possibly go?"
Gin analyzed the situation with his usual cool logic and was confident he had Steven firmly under control.
"You brought him in, so you're responsible for him. I don't want to see a second Akai Shuichi."
Across the line, Karasuma Renya replied coldly.
Gin's eyes dimmed slightly when he heard that name.
Akai Shuichi had been recommended by Miyano Akemi, but it was Gin himself who had personally brought the man into the organization and promoted him into the ranks of the executives.
No one could have imagined that Akai Shuichi was actually an undercover agent from the FBI.
If the organization's second-in-command, Rum, hadn't discovered it in time, the entire organization might have been destroyed by Akai alone.
They had already purged the elite members once. As for the outer circle, the expendable crowd anyone could join, who knew how many spies were still hiding there?
There were simply too many of them, scattered all over the world. Gin couldn't even be bothered to check.
Besides, the outer members never touched core secrets. They posed no real threat to the organization, so there was no point wasting time on them.
"Boss, I have a plan. I'm not sure if I should say it."
"Say it."
Karasuma Renya raised an eyebrow, already guessing it wouldn't be anything good.
"Spies and undercover agents from various countries have turned the organization upside down. Now that Du Kang has joined, our combat strength has increased dramatically. I plan to launch a counterattack, to let those rats know that the organization isn't some soft persimmon they can squeeze whenever they want."
You lunatic.
Karasuma Renya cursed silently.
No matter how powerful the organization was, it still wasn't strong enough to openly challenge entire countries.
"The timing isn't right yet. Don't cause trouble for me."
"You'd be better off spending that energy eliminating the Silver Bullet. Leaving him alive will always be a serious threat."
"And from now on, report trivial matters to Rum. You don't need to ask me about everything."
With that, Karasuma Renya hung up.
He seriously suspected Gin had been drinking fake booze to be spouting such brainless nonsense.
No one understood the organization's true strength better than he did.
Even going head-on with the island nation's police was a losing battle, let alone declaring war on intelligence agencies around the world. That was just suicide.
Did Gin really think that bringing in one outlaw meant the organization could suddenly take off?
Pure fantasy.
On the other end of the line.
"Don't worry, Boss. I'll personally kill Akai Shuichi."
Gin stared at his phone, a chilling smile slowly spreading across his lips.
…
Two days later.
Beika Town, Mouri Detective Agency.
"Regarding the brutal villa massacre in Okinawa Prefecture, police have completed a preliminary investigation and obtained relevant evidence. The murder weapons were bladed weapons and a sniper rifle. Signs of an explosion were found on the second floor."
"The identity of the headless male body found in the bedroom has yet to be confirmed. As of now, no eyewitnesses have been located."
"According to informed sources, police have invited world-renowned mystery novelist Kudo Yusaku to act as a special consultant to assist in the investigation of this major unsolved case."
On the TV screen, the news was reporting on Jo Murakami''s murder.
Click.
Mouri Kogoro turned off the television and took a long swig of beer.
A case involving more than thirty deaths, and instead of inviting a famous detective who was already in Tokyo, they went all the way to New York to ask for help. That really stung.
Ding-ling-ling.
The doorbell rang, and short-legged Conan hurried over to open the door.
Kudo Yusaku. And Yukiko.
Conan froze on the spot.
"....."