You haven't eaten yet, have you?" He placed a hand on Gin's shoulder, only to be brushed off by the latter's expressionless gesture, but he didn't seem to mind. "Do you want to come to my place to eat?
Your house?" Gin raised an eyebrow, his green eyes scrutinizing him critically for a moment, a hint of sarcasm playing at the corners of his mouth. "What else can you make besides spaghetti and plum rice balls? I'd be better off ordering takeout.
Don't be like that.." Along with a half-hearted complaint, Heine shrugged his shoulders. "I can't cook, but Sheila can.
Gin frowned upon hearing this. He understood Heine's words and keenly sensed the underlying implication: "Sheila lives with you? Are you two actually involved?"
.." Heine's expression remained unchanged, but the corners of his mouth stiffened visibly for a moment before he said, as if to cover it up, "Don't put it so crudely.
Gin gave a cold sneer.
Heine's private life is quite messy, perfectly matching the flirtatious aura he occasionally exudes. Although he appears romantic and amorous, he is actually an extremely cold person; while he engages in countless fleeting affairs and debauchery with various lovers, his serious romantic partners are few and far between.
The "home" he mentioned earlier was clearly his permanent residence, not just some random property.
How long had Sheila known him? Could he really be willing to let his invade his private territory and live with him in his "home"?
Is this a TV drama?
However, Gin had no interest in meddling in other people's business—especially this guy's private life. He shook his head casually and declined the other's invitation: "Not interested."
Heine nodded, showing no sign of disappointment; he simply seemed to have suddenly thought of something, wearing a subtle, mischievous smirk.
Gin saw through his change in expression clearly, feeling a faint, strange premonition.
He slightly curled his lips, flashing an exceptionally casual and charming smile. "Then why don't you let your Subordinate treat you?"
Gin tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest, asked back with some confusion, "What?"
The man opposite him lifted his chin, before Gin could react, a familiar, low male voice rang out hesitantly from not far away.
Are you talking about.. me?
Gin turned around to look, Akai Shuichi's face came into view, along with the expression of this current Detective Little Brother—the future Mr. Nemesis—who appeared calm but was actually utterly bewildered.
Gin: ……
If there's time, I should practice more with Heine.
-----------------------
Author's Note: (1) Heine is a type of Brandy, Kressen is a type of Gin.
(2) Both Borse and the previous Westgram are types of Gin.
The Gin-Kaito Group's bickering, lol.
Heine makes his official debut! He's that guy who was forced to treat Gin and Akai to drinks.
It looks like the original characters who are expected to have a certain amount of screen time have all at least made an appearance or had their names mentioned, lol.
Gin expressed that playing around made him happy.
Heine indicated that he had successfully bailed himself out.
Gin.. Enough said. I'll see you at the training ground.
Heine: Don't go!
A victory for the talent-based, 23333
..
This chapter.. setting aside the parts that are easy Spoilers, there is a clear hint (no need to connect it to later chapters), everyone can try to guess it ^_^
If you guess it, I'll add an extra chapter tomorrow!
..
Thanks to Meow Unspeakable Little Angel for the landmine, love you, mwah~
Thanks to iikoda Little Angel's landmine, love you mwah~
Chapter 43: Chapter 41 Akai Shuichi suddenly finds it very interesting..
As Gin sat on the sofa sipping the black tea brewed by Akai Shuichi, he simply could not understand how things had developed in this direction.
He curled his lips into a smirk, mentally beating Heine over and over again, before happily planning to turn this illusion into reality.
The backrest of the dark brown leather sofa felt a bit cool, but a pure white wool blanket was spread diagonally across the seat, soft, sturdy, excellent to the touch. On the glass coffee table in front sat a pot of black tea and two cups, both two-thirds full. The steaming hot tea sent up wisps of mist that condensed on the sides of the cups and settled on the glass surface of the nearby coffee table, creating a blurred, hazy scene. A slight stroke from a callous-hardened thumb left a mark.
Through the thin layer of transparent glass, the heat from the hot tea radiated outward, feeling somewhat scalding to the touch.
On the coffee table, there were also several pieces of biscuits serving as tea snacks; they were clearly newly purchased, whole wheat flavor, low in sugar. A few pieces were arranged on a white porcelain floral-patterned plate; the presentation was not elaborate, but the portion was generous, the edges of the plate revealed faint, winding vines and small, azure flower buds amidst the fresh greenery.
The house faces south and has excellent lighting. The light brown curtains in the living room were drawn open, allowing the sunlight to pour in, with tiny golden particles dancing silently in the air, making the interior bright and luminous.
At a glance, one could see that the house was exquisitely decorated, yet the furnishings throughout the entire room were efficient and simple, creating a strange sense of emptiness that wasted the designer's painstaking efforts; it also reflected that the tenant had moved in with nothing but their luggage.
Gin didn't care about this; his place was even emptier than this, whereas at least there was some sign of life here.
He sat on the sofa in silence, for a moment, the only sound in the entire house came from the kitchen.
Akai Shuichi was making dinner in the kitchen; to take care of his poor stomach, Gin kept an eye on the bustling activity where the cooking steam rose.
The Black-haired youth's cooking movements were clearly not very skilled, but he at least put on a decent show and looked like he wasn't having much trouble—however, his knife skills were extremely proficient; one could tell at a glance that he had done it many times before.
After realizing there were no major issues, Gin stopped worrying about it.
If he were to offer any actual suggestions, he could only remain silent; after all, he was completely ignorant when it came to the art of cooking.
Gin had no experience in cooking; he only had experience in watching others cook.
He leaned quietly against the sofa, his body sinking into the wool blanket. His eyes were slightly closed in a light slumber, his eyelids masking his sharp green eyes. He was like a napping leopard, concealing his lethality, even his breathing becoming soft and gentle.
But his mind remained tense, his five senses functioning as usual, alerting him to all potential dangers.
In his leisure time, many things flooded into his mind.
Heine's words provided him with a hint, his tangled thoughts seemed to find a way to unravel. A single fine strand emerged from the knot of yarn, the moment a clue appeared, the keen-eyed Assassin captured it with lightning speed.
When Gin first received his codename, Brandy took the initiative to handle his Ability Evaluation.
This was very uncommon within the Black Organization, a brown-haired green-eyed girl was deeply worried about it—her worry seemed to undergo a chemical reaction, intensifying instantly like an alcohol lamp heating a process, the moment she saw Gin's indifferent expression.
His green eyes glared resentfully at his childhood friend; beneath the sharp discontent within those shimmering green depths lay a profound sense of helplessness and worry, like water plants swaying beneath a frozen river in midwinter, incredibly soft.
Someone had specifically inquired about Brandy's preferences—who knew where this boy's whimsical ideas came from—though to him, such things were like a passing breeze, entering one ear and out the other, leaving not a single trace behind.
As it turned out, they weren't needed at all.
However—
Gin twitched his stiffening lips, his heart churning with an inexplicable feeling, crashing like waves upon waves of a turbulent sea.
However, even Heine had heard rumors about this matter; how could Brandy not know?
No way.
The question had not even lingered in his mind for half a second before the silver-haired youth gave his answer with extreme composure.
He had accepted Brandy's proposal for cooperation for two reasons: first, because having this person's help would make many things much easier; and second, because of a lingering sense of suspicion in his heart.
Who was Brandy? For a core member like him, coveting the organization's research secrets was a matter that was neither too big nor too small; if handled poorly, a lifetime of hard work and effort could vanish into nothingness.
How could he not be cautious about such matters? How could he chase shadows based on a single shred of a clue just to drag him down with him?
Gin believed that his behavior was not obvious; it would be plausible to say that he had taken a liking to Miyano Shiho.
Why did Brandy think he was "cooperative"? Wasn't he worried that the man would turn around and file a lawsuit against him? Even without evidence, it would still be enough to give him a hard time.
There must be some hidden truth behind it.
A voice in his heart whispered to him seductively. In that moment of silence, he faintly heard the turbulent, clamorous noise of his own thoughts. Gin had a premonition: this was what he wanted to know.
It was just that he did not yet know these details, but it didn't matter; after all, everyone knows how to pull a fast one out of nothing.
Heine's words gave Gin some inspiration, he seemed to have a faint clue.
However, even more confusion clouded his mind.
..
Seeing that the cooking was nearly done, Akai Shuichi turned the switch to turn off the heat. He plated the food from the pot, washed and dried his hands—a few crystal-clear droplets still lingering on his wheat-colored forearms—gave them a slight shake, then picked up the plates to carry them out one by one.
The black-haired youth placed the plates on the dining table and looked up at the current Boss, who was sitting on the sofa appearing to be in a daze.
He leaned to the side, propping himself up with his left hand on the table, watching Gin's quiet demeanor with interest. The Black-haired agent didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with looking at his "enemy" this way; his green eyes shimmered with curiosity, as he watched, he seemed to drift off into a daze.
Fortunately, he did not daze off like Gin. The latter seemed to sense the gaze scrutinizing him; his brow furrowed slightly and his cheek moved. Seeing this, Akai Shuichi spoke up first to snap him out of it, "It's ready."
Gin opened his eyes and looked toward the sound.
Green eyes, carrying a lingering haze and their usual sharpness, swept across him with extreme intensity.
Akai felt the gaze, which an Ordinary person might find intimidating and threatening, couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.
The person opposite him seemed to show a hint of speechless expression for a brief moment. That tiny bit of rare emotion—for him—was hidden beneath indifference, like new sprouts hidden under thin snow in early spring, a tender green amidst the cold.
Akai Shuichi suddenly found it quite interesting.
Gin glanced at him. This black-haired youth, who could hold his own on a battlefield, handle a handgun, drive high-performance cars, gather intelligence, was wearing a dark, thin sweater. The hem was slightly oversized and loosely curled, hanging at his waist. Dark blue jeans accentuated his long, slender legs, secured by a leather belt at his waist. His casual, relaxed outfit made him look several years younger, with a shoulder bag, he wouldn't look out of place at a university at all.
He had only tied on the apron to cook and hadn't taken it off, for convenience, he had rolled up his sleeves, giving him a domestic appearance.
Green eyes swept over his sharp, firm features, then glanced again at the apron he was wearing; this inexplicable sense of incongruity made Gin find it somewhat amusing.
The Silver-haired youth slightly raised his eyebrows, temporarily tucking away his previous chaotic thoughts into a corner of his mind, waiting to revisit them later: "What have you done?"
He asked.
The smile on Akai's lips remained unchanged, his green eyes looking at him as if they were shimmering with light, gentle and non-aggressive. "It's just home cooking; I'm not very good at cooking."
Gin showed no sign of being polite, raising an eyebrow at the person working hard in the kitchen, while he, a idler just waiting to be served, remarked, "I can tell."
His words were as matter-of-fact as ever.
Akai Shuichi blinked his eyes, without the slightest hint of dissatisfaction.
He found it interesting again.
Something isn't right, is it?
The Black-haired agent vaguely sensed this, before he could think it over, he saw the person opposite him had already stood up.