Looking back, Jiangxia Tongzhi was just a peripheral member at the time, with barely any chances to interact with or influence Gin. And honestly, someone as terminally suspicious as Gin wasn't exactly the easiest to manipulate.
Ironically, it was the cool guy himself who had a strong sense of justice and a curiosity dialed up to eleven. It made perfect sense—logically sound, even—that he'd chase after a shady guy in black like Gin… and then promptly get knocked out and drugged.
…Well, bygones are bygones. The point is—
Vermouth pressed her temples, trying to shove the spiraling chaos of her thoughts into some semblance of order and drag her mind back on track.
No matter how you looked at it, letting that yinbi Ouzo hang around Ran Mouri was like mixing milk with squid ink—an aesthetic and emotional catastrophe.
Worse still, Vermouth knew the truth about APTX4869. And even though the odds were slim, she couldn't shake the possibility that her cool guy was still alive… just, you know, fun-sized.
And Ouzo had crossed paths with the Kudo family in his youth, which meant he might've seen little Shinichi Kudo. Which meant danger.
…
After some brooding, Vermouth finally crystallized her muddled bloodlust.
Ouzo was a threat. A danger. A pestilence to her angel and her cool guy.
He must… as politely and quietly as possible… be deleted from existence.
…
After hitting send on the email, Gin glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Vermouth zoning out. "Why announce retirement out of nowhere? Timing's terrible. It'll just make the FBI hyenas more suspicious and draw them to your scent."
Vermouth blinked herself back to reality, lazily lit a slim lady's cigarette, took a puff, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "They know far more than you think. I've even prepared for this to be permanent. No encore."
Gin caught the implication, and the temperature in the car dropped several degrees. "Aside from Shuichi Akai, who slinked off in disgrace, has the FBI sent any other rats?"
The two didn't interact much, Akai and Vermouth. So for her to suddenly drop that kind of line… Either she was making excuses, or the FBI had found another way in.
"I wouldn't know," Vermouth replied, her tone glinting with its own agenda. "Catching rats is your job. But I do think we have a much clearer target now than some elusive rodents. How much longer are you planning to let Sherry strut around free?"
Vermouth despised the Miyano family and especially Sherry. But for a while, she'd been stuck frequenting the Organization's lab, like a good cadre.
Whether the intel leaks were Sherry's fault or the work of some undercover shikigami, Vermouth naturally preferred to pin it all on Sherry—and preferably see her offed yesterday.
Meanwhile, Jiangxia, stuck in the back seat, caught the growing scent of apples and instinctively glanced at Vermouth.
Ah, Sherry. Vermouth's favorite murder-muse. Her bloodlust now was nearly as pure and spicy as it had been just a few minutes ago when she'd looked ready to end him.
It had faded a bit once he'd been sitting next to her for a while. But now? Back with a vengeance.
Vermouth noticed Jiangxia's glance, narrowed her eyes, and blew a stream of smoke right at him.
She recalled her own earlier internal circus of conflicting thoughts, said nothing, and turned to look out the window, bored out of her soul.
Silence settled into the car like an awkward dinner guest.
Gin returned his focus to more manageable problems: rats and Sherry. After adjusting his schedule, he checked the rearview mirror again.
Originally, he'd planned to toss Ouzo to Vermouth, let her work on that messy psyche of his. Not that Ouzo's issues were deep, but they could be… grating.
Now, though, Gin was rethinking that plan. Vermouth clearly did not vibe with Jiangxia. Even Gin could sense the undercurrent of dislike and malice, and he was about as emotionally intuitive as a brick.
If left together too long, and if Ouzo's patience snapped, it wasn't unthinkable that tomorrow's headlines would read: "World-Famous Actress Brutally Murdered in Tokyo Hotel."
And Vermouth wasn't exactly fragile china either. Her partners had a nasty tendency to die mysteriously. Unlike Gin, who only worked with Vodka (and somehow hadn't killed him yet), Vermouth left a trail of corpses wherever she went. If not for her skills and the Boss's favoritism, she'd have been held accountable long ago.
Gin had originally considered her a good fit—medically trained, relatively loyal—but now? He was starting to doubt whether leaving Ouzo in her hands was such a smart move.
He fiddled unconsciously with his cigarette pack.
Thinking back… Vermouth had been normal before. Even seemed curious and welcoming toward the new guy.
But the moment she learned Ouzo was a "great detective," something inside her flipped.
Had Ouzo done something? Or did Vermouth just hate detectives as a rule?
Wait—Sherry!
Gin's brain finally snapped two pieces together. Vermouth's dislike for Sherry was legendary, and Sherry had doted on Jiangxia back when she was still in the Organization.
If that were the case, this sudden antipathy made perfect sense. Her earlier push to go after Sherry now seemed like an indirect admission.
With that, Gin looked away from the mirror, face expressionless.
Internal beefs were exhausting and pointless. Couldn't these people spend less time brooding and more time doing their jobs?
…
The black Porsche rolled smoothly from Yamahira Town back into the crowded streets of Tokyo, finally stopping under Beika City Building, one of Gin's usual haunts.
Vermouth had been here before.
She casually disguised herself and got out of the car.
She'd assumed they were heading to the bar on the second basement floor, but Gin hit the up button on the elevator.
Vermouth paused.
Had the bar… migrated?
…
Three minutes later, she was seated in an upscale sushi restaurant, eyes flicking between the luxury menu and Jiangxia beside her. Understanding slowly dawned.
Some of the Organization's front businesses doubled as safe houses or meeting points. They looked normal, sometimes too normal. In fact, thanks to the secret investors lurking in the shadows, they were usually over-regulated.
Unlike shady bars where a 12-year-old with a fake mustache might snag a beer, these places checked IDs like their lives depended on it. Because, well, sometimes they did.
And since members' identities had to stay under wraps and the staff rotated constantly, it wasn't practical to casually reveal a member's name just to serve them a drink.
So even high-ranking cadres had to follow the rules. And today's rule: no bars when Jiangxia was involved.
Vermouth let out the smallest, most elegant "hmph" imaginable.
What a shame.
She'd been planning to get Ouzo tipsy, slip a few questions into the buzz, and maybe kill him if the answers displeased her.
Now?
Now she had to sit through overpriced sushi and wait for Gin to leave before trying again.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 4/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*