"What?! That woman Sherry!"
Vodka stubbed out his cigarette hard and sprang to his feet in anger. Chianti, having delivered the message, had already turned around and left—she had no interest in listening to Vodka rant.
Truth be told, even she hadn't expected it. Sherry, who usually carried herself like a cold, aloof cat, had shown an unexpectedly commanding presence when she got serious—one that made people obey almost instinctively.
Chianti licked the corner of her mouth and disappeared into the dark corridor.
Inside the room, Vodka opened a concealed door and walked straight through.
Behind it lay a different world: a luxuriously furnished lounge, though its overall color scheme still adhered to a stark, black aesthetic.
Gin was sitting on the sofa. Unsurprisingly, he had heard every word Chianti had just relayed.
"Vodka—"
"Boss."
"Go see what she wants. If it's related to her research, satisfy her demands as much as possible. But if it's about her sister…" Gin let out a cold snort. "Then tell her her sister is already dead."
"Uh, Boss—"
"Go."
Gin flicked ash from his cigarette, his expression indifferent.
Vodka felt stifled, but since Gin had spoken, he had no choice but to comply.
After Vodka left, Gin subconsciously reached up and touched the back of his neck. It felt empty.
That head of beautifully maintained blond hair—hair he had groomed for years—had never suffered so much as a scratch, even amid gunfire.
Miyano Akemi, that damned woman… and that damned man—
Miyano Shiho returned to her private office. As a department director of the research institute and a codename member of the organization, this was only fitting.
Before long, there was a knock at the door. A female doctor in a white coat pushed it open—but stepping in behind her was Vodka, dressed in black, wearing his familiar bowler hat.
"Sherry, you'd better—"
"Where is my sister?"
Vodka was cut off mid-sentence by Shiho's cold interruption. He felt stifled, but at her question, a cruel smile crept across his face.
"She's dead."
Shiho's pupils trembled. Slowly, she released the mouse in her hand and shifted her gaze from the computer screen to Vodka's rough, brutish face.
Vodka grinned silently, his expression feral. Shiho frowned.
"Vodka, you'd better behave yourself. Never mind—there's no point saying this to you anyway. You're just an enforcer who follows orders. I called you here for something else."
Vodka froze for a moment, clearly not expecting such a reaction.
Her calmness—combined with the way she dismissed him as nothing more than a mindless thug—felt like a blatant slight. She hadn't taken his words seriously at all.
That damned woman!
Anger surged in his chest, but Shiho didn't give him a chance to lash out. She turned straight to the matter she wanted to address.
"Why did you use a drug that's still in the testing phase for human experimentation? I clearly stated that—"
"There's no reason," Vodka cut in abruptly. "We're just following orders."
He straightened up, his tone stiff yet tinged with smug satisfaction. Interrupting her like this—and throwing her own words back at her—seemed to give him a rare sense of vindication.
After all, moments like this were few and far between for him.
Shiho fell silent. She reached for the teacup on her desk. The water inside was still hot, and holding it brought a bit of warmth to her palm.
"Then why was my freedom suddenly restricted? If you can't give me a reasonable explanation, I'll report this to higher-ups and have it resolved."
"Heh. Then you might as well give up. This is Gin's order."
Vodka's tone was openly arrogant.
Shiho didn't even spare his attitude a glance. And the more she ignored him, the stronger the resentment and frustration simmering inside him became.
Having obtained the answer she wanted, Shiho didn't look at Vodka again. She simply turned back to her computer and resumed working, as though he no longer existed.
Vodka waited for a while, but she said nothing more—only the clicking of the mouse and the tapping of keys filled the room.
Gradually, impatience set in. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette case, about to light one—when Shiho finally looked up at him.
"Hm? You're still here?"
The confusion and mild puzzlement in her eyes struck Vodka like a blade to the chest.
His eyes widened, mouth hanging open. For a moment, he wanted to curse her out—but didn't dare. He wanted to explode—but didn't even know where to begin.
"Sherry! You woman—! Hmph!"
Staying any longer would only humiliate him further. Vodka shot her a vicious glare as she had already returned to her work, then turned and stormed toward the door.
Out of the corner of her eye, Shiho watched his movements. A faint curve appeared at the corner of her lips. Just as he was about to slam the door shut behind him, she spoke again in a flat tone:
"Tell Gin that I must see my sister this Sunday. If you don't allow us to meet, I will immediately terminate my research."
Vodka froze and turned back.
Looking at Shiho's calm, confident profile, he hadn't expected her to resort to such a childish, open act of defiance against the organization.
But at last, he had found a chance to strike back at this self-righteous, arrogant woman.
"Heh. That's impossible," he said coldly. "Because your sister… really is dead."
Bang.
Vodka slammed the door and left.
Inside the office.
Shiho sat motionless in her chair, one hand gripping the mouse, the other resting on the keyboard. For a long time, she didn't move.
"No… that's impossible."
She murmured softly, unwilling to believe it.
But sometimes, the body understands the truth far more clearly than the mind is willing to accept.
Clear, crystalline tears silently slid down her pale, delicate cheeks.
Recent events replayed in her heart like a revolving lantern—things she had stubbornly refused to think about.
Three weeks without being able to contact or see her sister.Her drug, still in the testing phase, being used by the organization for human experiments without her consent.Gin returning injured—and immediately afterward, she herself being placed under unprecedented confinement.
And that day—when Gin had bluntly told her that her sister was already dead.
Tears continued to fall soundlessly. After a long while, she reached up and wiped her cheeks, lowered her head so that her short bangs hid her eyes, then stood up, opened the door, and walked toward the research labs.
Meanwhile, on the other side.
After finishing his test, Shimizu Koji rode his bike home alone.
But as he passed through a certain street, his plans were disrupted.
By chance, he caught sight of the Junior Detective League happily playing their treasure-hunting game. At first, he treated it as a simple coincidence and intended to smile and move on.
But after glancing a bit longer, his keen eyesight picked up something off.
Black suits. Sunglasses. Three men—two of them blond, with distinctly Western features—trailing the kids at just the right distance.
The one in front appeared to be Japanese, with shifty eyes and an unabashedly sneaky demeanor. Koji didn't need to think twice to recognize what they were doing.
They were tailing them.
Adults—two of them foreigners—following a group of children.
Human traffickers? Or kidnappers planning to take hostages?
And that wasn't all.
Once he looked more carefully, Koji noticed something even stranger.
Behind those three men… was yet another group—at least seven or eight people.
What on earth was going on?