..
Brandy had stepped down a while ago. This core member of the Black Organization had held great power for over a decade, his decision to step down voluntarily now was quite decisive.
Setting everything else aside, that level of courage alone was enough to command admiration.
Aside from the power he retained for himself, Brandy transferred all his remaining influence. However, as a man who held great power, he loathed competition and preferred to give it away himself.
Previously, Brandy had discussed matters with Rum and the Boss, the division of duties had been largely settled. Now that the major portions had been decided, the remaining smaller shares were left for the others to fight over.
Gin is among those who took over one of the major shares, he has been sorting through the recent changes in his current holdings.
With this redistribution of Brandy's influence, the status of the Black Organization's High-level members has also undergone changes. Gin was naturally among those who were promoted; with his current standing, he is already essentially at the core of the organization.
He was only twenty-seven.
“In a few more months, once you have completely mastered the 'meat' assigned to you this time, I reckon you'll be able to stand on equal footing with me.”
Vermouth's expression was complex as he spoke those words.
Gin was quite composed, possessing a certain air of unflappability in the face of both honor and disgrace.
Vermouth looked into his deep green eyes beneath his silver bangs and suddenly said, "If it hadn't been for that incident back then, you would have risen even faster than you have now, you'd probably have entered the core of the Black Organization by now—perhaps you would have even surpassed me by now."
Hearing this, the Silver-haired youth turned his head slightly and glanced at Vermouth with a sidelong look.
That gaze was deep and cold, like a blade covered in a fine layer of snow, sharp and piercing amidst the chill, carrying a sinister aura of violence and gloom.
The blonde-haired woman suddenly felt a chill spreading through her chest. In that instant, she felt as if she had fallen into an endless abyss, a pitch-black void of despair from which not a single ray of light could escape; it was as if she had plunged into a freezing pool, where the bone-chilling lake water submerged him, bringing a terrifying sense of suffocation.
The smile on his lips froze, Vermouth's lips trembled slightly, his gaze vacant.
He struggled to break himself free from this state, biting his lower lip hard between his teeth, using the pain to awaken his sanity.
His pupils focused, his consciousness regained clarity; Vermouth took a step back, looking at Gin with a pale face.
Gin remained as calm, cold, gloomy as ever.
His bangs had grown a bit longer; if he remained still, they could cover nearly half of his eye.
Vermouth let out a soft sigh, gazing at Gin with a complex expression for a long time, but ultimately said nothing.
..
Cavendish's invitation came completely by surprise.
Gin had always held complex feelings toward this man.
Among the people Gin has partnered with, Cavendish and Heine can be considered among the rare few who actually have brains; they complete missions cleanly and efficiently, their combat prowess is also quite formidable.
In comparison, Cavendish excels at sniping, while Heine excels with firearms.
However, compared to Heine, his perception of Cavendish was far more complex.
This man is a fox in gentle, elegant clothing, sometimes the words he speaks are quite similar to those of Vermouth.
Due to the Black Organization's series of undercover agents, Gin had always been deeply concerned about this; could this person be an undercover agent as well?
It really wasn't the Silver-haired youth's fault for overthinking it.
"Cavendish" is the name of a Scotch Whisky, he also shares similarities with Vermouth.
Think of the Whisky Undercover trio, think of Vermouth's Angel..
It's truly hard not to let one's mind wander in that direction!
However, out of equal concern for the Black Organization's intelligence, despite his complicated feelings, Gin maintained a surface-level politeness quite well.
Well, calling it politeness is being too generous; in reality, it was just a face of pure indifference.
Some people feel that having a useless teammate is a painful thing, while having a useless opponent is a blessing.
But in Gin's view, whether it was a pig opponent or a pig teammate, it was all a painful matter.
Compared to someone like Vodka, Gin wished there were more intelligent people in the Black Organization—even if they were an Undercover, he could accept that; at least they would be efficient!
—Anyway, he planned to rebel anyway, so what did it matter to him whether the Organization had an undercover or not?
Cavendish's invitation was actually quite simple: just a small gathering to drink and discuss life at a bar under the Black Organization's control—the latter part was nonsense.
And there are beautiful ladies to look at, if you wish, you can even get to know them more intimately.
No doubt about it, that sentence above is that guy's original words.
He suddenly felt that he had thought far too much by believing Cavendish was an insider.
After some thought, Gin still decided to give him some face and set off for the appointment.
..
Not many people attended this small gathering.
In addition to Vermouth, Cavendish, Korn, Bagdad, Caravaggio, Tequila, there was also a new girl.
Gin brought Chianti with him.
After absorbing a portion of Brandy's influence, Chianti was also assigned to his subordinates. Gin paired his with Korn, as they were both Snipers.
It also fits the plot.
That unknown girl was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with heroic features and a capable temperament, his long, narrow phoenix eyes shimmering with a hint of charm.
The woman had tanned skin and bright eyes with a hint of wildness, a great figure; she was a beauty with a strong sense of personality.
"Her codename is Masala, she is one of the new cadres in this batch," Cavendish introduced with a smile.
Masala gave Gin a small smile, her voice carrying a hint of languid intimacy. "Hello, senior."
Gin had no interest in making things difficult for the woman, giving a slight nod as a response.
There are quite a few newcomers in this batch," Bagdad remarked with a sigh. "There are as many as seven of them.
"So many all at once?" Gin was also somewhat surprised.
Vermouth explained, "They just happened to be grouped together. Some of them could have received their codenames much earlier, like Kiel; Krovi was supposed to be under observation for a bit longer, but we decided to just do them all at once."
“Bourbon, Scotch Whisky, Rye—why are they all whiskies?” Bagdad counted them off one by one, unable to help but complain, “Masala, Kiel, Krovi, one more, Sheila?”
He turned to Vermouth to confirm, "Is that right?"
Vermouth thought for a moment before nodding. "It should be correct."
"Who is in charge of their ability evaluations? Or is it a Mission Evaluation?" Gin couldn't help but feel a bit curious.
I am responsible for both Bourbon and Scotland. I haven't taken a job involving ability evaluations in several years, but I happen to be interested this time." Vermouth took a sip of liquor, his eyes slightly clouded by the alcohol. "Rye is handled by Heine, Sheila seems to be in charge of Mission Evaluation, though Heine is quite interested in her. Masala is handled by Cavendish, right? As for the rest, I don't know.
Correct." Cavendish nodded and laughed. "That's why I brought his along this time.
"I remember Krovi is in the Research Department, but I'm not quite sure; I'm not sure about Kiel either," Tequila interjected.
What would you like to drink? Just let the bar owner know," Cavendish said, then continued, "Heine was originally planning to come this time and was even going to bring Sheila, but he said later that he couldn't make it.
"I actually think Rye is quite good. Speaking of which, Rye and Gin seem to be somewhat similar, don't they?" Vermouth said, blinking his eyes.
"I haven't seen him, so I don't know much," Bagdad shook his head, declining to comment.
A little.. after all, they are both left-handed, both have long hair, their eye color seems similar—they are both green, right?" Cavendish spoke in a gentle tone, a faint, ambiguous smile playing on his face as he added the second half of his sentence, which sounded either deeply meaningful or like a simple observation: "But as for their personalities.. there is still quite a difference.
Gin couldn't be bothered to speak.
Vermouth nodded in agreement. "Of this batch, the ones I favor most are Rye and Bourbon."
Gin felt speechless.
Do you have any idea that both of the ones you picked are Undercover!
Then again, out of this group of seven, there are four undercover agents.. Do undercover agents just appear in clusters or something?
It's already more than halfway through!
Even though according to the Plot, it is roughly this time, I still have to say—
This year.. it truly was a miraculous year—
By the way, I feel a brief moment of sympathy for those responsible for verifying the identities of Newcomers over the past two years; once the Truth is revealed, you'll likely face a wave of suspicion as well.
I see," Gin replied perfunctorily. He really didn't want to mention such a miserable matter anymore. Raising his eyebrows slightly, the youth ordered in a lazy tone, "I'll have a Gin Fizz.
“I haven't even ordered yet,” Vermouth's seductive voice rang out after Gin spoke. “Gibson, please—"
"Whoa—" Bagdad let out a sound as if he were watching a good show.
Vermouth looked composed and elegant, as if she had simply made a casual remark.
Gin raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Blonde-haired woman.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Since Gin has also defected to the revolution, I've added a few original characters so that the Black Organization isn't left with just Rum and the Boss watching the water cooler.
Then, to keep things balanced, there are both loyalists and traitors among the original characters~
Finally, a little joke about bartending.
Chapter 27: Twenty-five, Being Late is a Beauty's Privilege
“..”
Before dawn, the Silver-haired youth was rubbed awake by the flapping of some dead bird, leaving him with a lifeless expression in his drowsy eyes.
His morning irritability surrounded him with a layer of low pressure, a tangible dark aura seemed to manifest behind him; if anyone were by his side, they would certainly choose to keep a distance of three feet.
If that person wanted to continue enjoying the world.
However, no one—
There was only one Dead bird staring him down with wide eyes—a mental patient who couldn't sense his master's mood and would disturb his sweet dreams in the middle of the night!
The scientific name is Strigiformes, a nocturnal carnivore.
Commonly known as an owl—!
The silver-haired youth suppressed the frustration swelling in his mind, the moment the owl flew toward him, he swiftly grabbed its wings.
The man and the bird stared at each other for a long time.