Vermouth took the phone without hesitation and left the hallway.
She slipped into the utility room next to Jiangxia's, shut the door, and began her covert operation.
Two phones. Not surprising.
After all, "Ouzo" and "Jiangxia" were two very different people on paper—if he only had one phone, that would be suspicious.
Both were locked, of course.
Vermouth calmly pulled a decoding tool—about the size of her palm—out of her bag, plugged it in, and started cracking the passcodes.
—You can't rely on someone like Ouzo to just hand over the truth.
Only the kind of truth you personally dig out—layer by layer, nail by nail—is trustworthy.
...
The progress bar inched toward completion.
Soon, both phones were unlocked on the surface.
Vermouth glanced between them, then quickly tossed aside the "Organization-use only" one.
To her, it was basically junk mail. She was already one of that person's favorites, an ageless witch with a senior citizen discount at this point—the Organization's intel was practically her bedtime reading.
That phone might be a holy grail to the Red Side, but to Vermouth? Meh.
She picked up the civilian phone instead.
Opened the inbox. Peeked at the contacts. Found a lineup of starred entries right at the top.
She skimmed the list and paused when she saw two names with the surname "Mouri"—Mouri Kogoro and Mouri Ran.
Apparently, Ouzo liked using full names in his contacts. Helpful. Thanks, tool person.
Vermouth quietly copied down Mouri Ran's email address.
...
Feeling pleasantly nosy, she kept scrolling—and her gaze caught on "Edogawa Conan."
Now that was a weird name.
Both "Edogawa" and "Conan" were uncommon, and it just so happened there were two very well-known mystery writers: Edogawa Ranpo and Arthur Conan Doyle.
Altogether, this screamed "fanboy alias" more than "name lovingly given by parents."
Something about it tugged at her memory. A flicker of recognition. But the thought darted away before she could pin it down.
Frowning, she skipped to the bottom of the starred contacts, then jumped to the Ks to search for "Kudo Shinichi."
Nothing.
Vermouth: "...He didn't save Cool Guy's number?"
Or maybe he did, but disguised it under some weird remark like "Bear Child 3" or "European Emperor." Wouldn't put it past him.
...
Before she could spiral further into contact list conspiracy theories, the phone vibrated.
Back to the inbox.
A new message from "Mouri Ran," complete with a photo attachment—a softly glowing lightstick.
[Buy two get one free! I saved one for you! The concert starts at six and ends at nine—if your case wraps early, come hang out~]
Reading it, Vermouth could practically see Angel's cheerful, innocent smile. Her whole mood—tense ever since she got back to Japan—lightened a few notches.
...
She'd knocked back a fair amount of alcohol earlier to get Jiangxia drunk, and standing around snooping wasn't exactly relaxing.
So she dragged out a rolled-up carpet from the corner, laid it flat, flopped down, and got comfy.
With a treasure-hunter's curiosity, she resumed scrolling through the email thread between Jiangxia and Mouri Ran.
—From the looks of it, their relationship was way closer than what she'd heard from the school gossip grapevine.
And judging from Angel's thank-you messages, sympathy notes, and scattered emojis, Ouzo had helped her a lot. Including, apparently, saving her life.
For some reason, Vermouth felt… relieved.
A strange, slow-spreading warmth of reassurance.
But just as she was about to lean into that comfort, her brain hit her with a cold splash of logic:
...If Ouzo had fallen for her Angel...
Wouldn't that make Cool Guy—who shared mutual feelings with Angel—the biggest, most annoying roadblock in Ouzo's way?
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 13/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*