And there is also the situation of fighting N (where N is greater than or equal to 3); it is actually very difficult to win. When you are fighting, the other side has several people, they aren't mindless objects, so even if you have trained, it won't help. In such a situation, the best way is to run.. If you absolutely have to fight, you must never engage head-on, no matter how strong or fast you are (this comes from my teacher's teachings).
Based on my teacher's own experience.. Forget it, I'm rambling, I'll stop for now.
..
This chapter could be described as Amuro's solo showcase.
The Whisky Undercover Trio has been formed~ *sprinkles confetti*~
I'll be quite busy tomorrow and the day after.. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update, but I can only say I'll try my best. I will definitely resume on Tuesday.
I need to do some minor revisions on a segment from before I return on Tuesday..
Today, I started by writing over a thousand words of a brainstorming session that is unrelated to this main story; it's a side story for Fake Liquor Daily—even though I haven't even started writing Fake Liquor Daily yet.. So, I've temporarily put it in "Delusions Collection."
Then I rolled off to review, then.. I realized I hadn't written a single word for the update QAQ
I wrote a bit more words for this chapter; if I can't update in the next day or two.. just consider it a little compensation for everyone~
Huh, in that case, I've written almost 6,000 words today.
..
Thanks to Reginlief Little Angel for the landmine, love you, mwah~
Thank you, Mo Tianji Little Angel, for the landmine, love you, mwah~
..
Um.. how about this.. if I miss my updates tomorrow or the day after, I will add an extra chapter when I return, QAQ
Chapter 32 Chapter 30 This move left the uncle dumbfounded..
The day of his discharge might be delayed, but it will certainly come.
In short, after a long—for him—moldy existence, Akai Shuichi could finally leave the hospital.
—Even though his right hand was still in a cast.
—And he was still using crutches.
But the moment he stood on the ground again, he had to say, it felt truly wonderful.
His walking posture was somewhat awkward; after all, his leg had not fully healed, being confined to a hospital bed for many days had caused a certain degree of muscle atrophy and deformation.
When he first started rehabilitation, Akai even felt as if he couldn't sense the existence of that leg—you could feel the pain and the ache, but the commands from his brain simply wouldn't transmit, or rather, they would transmit, but the leg had no intention of executing them at all.
It was as if a spring in a machine's mechanism had snapped.
Stiff, numb, uncontrollable—this left the Black-haired agent in a terrible mood.
However, he wasn't too depressed—after all, this wasn't the first time he had dealt with injuries and rehabilitation; he had gained plenty of experience from past ordeals, his mental fortitude was incredibly strong.
Of course, rationality was one thing, but his mood was another. Even though he knew in his heart that this was a necessary process, Akai couldn't help but feel irritable.
He had completed most of his rehabilitation in the Clinic—an experience that left a deep impression on Akai, involving stumbling through every step, moving as slowly as an infant learning to walk, occasionally losing his balance and falling. At this stage, simply walking a few steps with the help of crutches was no problem.
The Black-haired agent loathed this convalescence, but he also knew that injuries were inevitable in this line of work. No matter how outstanding her strength was, how capable he was in combat, how resilient her mind was, or how her intelligence rivaled Sherlock Holmes, her recovery speed could not defy the laws of nature.
Before leaving the hospital, he endured the Female doctor's expression, which looked as if she were thinking, "Finally, you're getting out of here," as he asked with difficulty, "Can I go get my sniper rifle now?"
The Female doctor's gaze seemed to deeply doubt whether he had injured her brain, when she spoke, her tone remained lifeless: "Go downstairs to the first basement level, turn left, go to the second duty room. Ask the Staff."
After she finished speaking, she turned around and casually grabbed a new syringe and a small, sealed vial of solution, his eyes urging Akai to get lost quickly.
Akai nodded in thanks, confirming once more in his heart that a doctor like this would absolutely be reported in a legitimate hospital.
But when it comes to doctors in a place like the Black Organization, don't expect to encounter any angels in white.
If you encounter one, it's luck—the kind that lets you buy a lottery ticket; not encountering one is the norm.
She slowly walked to the place the Female doctor had mentioned. On the surface, this clinic looked quite decent, but the layout of the first basement floor was nothing like the state of a normal clinic.
It wasn't that the layout was poor or eerie; that floor was filled with a minimalist style and looked incredibly high-end—in short, it was a completely different vibe from the third-rate clinic upstairs.
Akai could probably guess that the medical equipment used for Organization members in that "third-rate clinic" must have been kept on the first basement floor.
Approaching the second duty room, Akai Shuichi saw a lazy middle-aged man leaning over a table, playing a game.
Akai..
This shouldn't be the norm for the Organization, right?
He knocked on the door.
However, the knocking was so weak, pitiful, helpless amidst the game sound effects coming from the laptop that the man completely ignored him.
Akai knocked on the door again—with increased force.
The man finally snapped out of it, glancing impatiently toward the door, where he saw Akai Shuichi leaning on a cane.
Having worked in the Black Organization for so long, he didn't even flinch when caught playing games during working hours; the middle-aged man calmly closed his laptop, set it aside, then looked up at Akai.
Do you need something?
Even though he felt extremely frustrated about losing points because the match had been interrupted, Uncle showed none of it on his face, his tone was quite nice.
He acted as if nothing had happened.
Akai's mouth twitched in speechless exasperation.
He fell silent for a moment, then spoke up, "I'll get my gun."
"Huh?" Surprise flashed across the middle-aged man's face for a fleeting moment.
Generally speaking, most of those sent over with injuries are still conscious, they naturally keep their weapons on them—for those who have already fallen into a coma, their weapons are kept by others temporarily, though such cases are rare.
What does it look like?
"A black Glock." Although it was a gun he had only recently received before the mission, Akai remembered the model clearly and reported it.
Uncle nodded, stood up, walked toward the firearms storage, asking casually, "Is it one you use often?"
No, I chose it before the mission," Akai thought of something and asked again, "—Do I need to return it?
The Logistics Equipment Department handles that; someone will notify you," Uncle answered lazily. As he rummaged through the items with slow movements, he glanced at the several guns in storage and asked another question, "Should I report your name or codename?
Moroboshi Dai, codename Rye.
“You are a member with a codename?” Uncle's voice was tinged with obvious surprise. He turned his head to glance at Akai, then spoke slowly, “Reporting either one of the two is enough.”
I see..
The middle-aged man took out one of the black handguns, turned around, said, "This is yours, isn't it?"
The black Glock had lost its former luster; it looked severely damaged and was stained with the scent of gunpowder.
Akai nodded. "It's mine."
He reached out and took the handgun.
The Uncle glanced at the handgun and said casually, "It's already broken to this extent; if you want to use it, it will definitely need to be repaired again."
Akai had already inspected the condition of the gun, he shook his head. "Repairing it will be quite troublesome, its performance will certainly be far inferior to what it once was."
As he spoke, he made no move to put down the gun; instead, he reached out to remove the magazine.
Perhaps because his work was quite boring and he couldn't continue playing games while standing here, Uncle continued to make small talk, asking casually, "You didn't know it was already damaged before, did you?"
I have some recollection of it." He removed the magazine and placed the gun on the table. "I don't want this gun anymore; this isn't a gun I use regularly. Since it's broken like this, I'll just apply for a new one.
After all, he was already a member with a codename, so applying for a new one wouldn't be difficult.
Then why did you come here to get it?
Akai shook his head, his tone calm. "I'm not here for the gun."
He twisted his left hand, making the detached magazine spin on his fingertips. With a calm expression, Akai placed it into his pocket and turned to leave.
Watching this sequence of actions, Uncle was left dumbfounded.
Gun.. No, I want a magazine?
He really couldn't understand this move; it was quite baffling!
He was truly impressed.
..
Just a few days after being discharged from the hospital, Akai received a series of probes.
As Akai had expected, exposing his true strength had brought him not only unwanted attention—though he didn't want the spotlight anyway—but also trouble.
After being discharged from the hospital, the subsequent probing forced Akai to stay on his guard—it lasted so long that by the time it finally tapered off, Akai's injuries had already healed.
However, the probing and the trouble were within his expectations, he was not without ways to deal with them.
In fact, his response was calm and perfect, leaving no flaws on the surface.
As for what happens in the shadows.. that remains to be seen.
After all, there were quite a few talented people in the Black Organization.
After dealing with a wave of probing, Akai breathed a small sigh of relief—although he had said that handling such matters was no difficulty for him, it still became annoying after so many instances.
However, he was somewhat surprised by the tranquility during his hospitalization—it wasn't like the Black Organization's style to show even a shred of mercy just because you were injured or sick!
After making some inquiries in secret and analyzing the situation, Akai fell silent instead.
However, before his complex emotions could linger for long, he received his assignment from the upper management of the Black Organization.
To be partnered with Bourbon and Scotland.
The Black-haired agent was still somewhat surprised by this arrangement; after all, a combination consisting of such pure newcomers was quite rare.
Of course, they did exist.
It only made Akai feel a sense of doubt in his heart—was this truly an accident.. or was it another test?
He had met Bourbon and Scotland once.
Bourbon appeared gentle and bright, but he also possessed a youthful, headstrong stubbornness; the sharpness and observational skills he unintentionally revealed even made Akai cast a sidelong glance at him.
Scotland is relatively much gentler, but he is by no means a simple character.