..
Hashimoto Nana looked at the "Call Ended" display on her mobile phone screen and glared at it stubbornly, refusing to give up. However, the Screen felt no resentment or killing intent from its owner and remained completely oblivious.
Then, it gradually went black.
Nana gripped her mobile phone tightly.
After a long while, a sense of despair surfaced in her eyes.
It's all over QAQ
Although she knew Zhenjun would not let her off so easily, however—
Facing the truth.. requires a certain amount of courage..
Nana sighed deeply, facing her bleak future once again.
She was just about to pack her things and head out to the gym—since there wasn't a suitable place at home—when the crisp sound of the doorbell rang.
Hashimoto Nana froze for a moment. She casually tossed her coat onto the sofa, picked up her mobile phone, walked toward the entryway, mentally reviewing her recent schedule.
No one would come to her house on purpose.
Could it be a Salesperson?
After thinking about various possibilities for a while, Nana continued walking toward the Entrance and looked out through the peephole.
It was a young miko, her posture elegant, her long hair smooth, with a faint smile playing on her lips.
—She didn't know her.
Nana hesitated before opening the door, but out of caution, she did not open it all the way. "May I ask who you are?"
“Are you Miss Nana?” The woman smiled. “I am here to look after you, following the arrangement of your Brother.”
“??”
-----------------------
Author's Note: I forgot to include the next paragraph..
Chapter 57: Hoping He Can Live Up to That Detective..
Hashimoto Nana—no, rather, Shiratori Nana, was utterly bewildered at this moment.
She widened her eyes, looking at the woman before her with a hint of surprise.
The black-haired woman's black eyes held a gentle and clear kindness, her posture elegant yet imbued with a touch of sincerity and playfulness. Her ordinary light blue casual attire could not conceal her graceful figure and beautiful features; however, all of this was non-threatening, looking at her gentle gaze, one instead felt a spontaneous sense of closeness.
She truly possessed a look that inspired instant goodwill.
Shiratori Nana blinked, a slight smile playing on the corners of her mouth, her face showing a hint of confusion and a touch of bewilderment. "Miss, have you taken a wrong turn?"
His tone carried a hint of inquiry, as if she truly were just an uninformed person, "I don't have a Brother."
How cautious." The black-haired girl sighed softly, her words making Shiratori Nana even more wary. "But there's no need to worry—
Your address was given to me by your Brother.
Shiratori Nana flashed an innocent smile; even though she was inclined to believe it in her heart, her expression remained composed. His look was clearly friendly, yet his hand resting on the door remained distinctly unmoving.
The Black-haired woman did not find it strange. His slender Finger unfastened the buckle of his Blue leather bag. The bag was not a luxury brand, but it was well-made with a simple and elegant design; its capacity was not large, but it was sufficient to hold some essential "trinkets."
However, the Black-haired woman had no intention of demonstrating any of the "little tricks" she had learned from the Hell Puppeteer. She took out her mobile phone, her fair fingertips tapping lightly on the screen, then turned the screen toward Nana.
The young detective saw the information she wanted to know, her expression changed slightly before returning to normal, then she let out a smile.
This smile was much more sincere than the previous one.
Welcome," Nana said, releasing her grip on the door. A sense of relaxation entered her eyes, she took a casual step forward with her left leg, her stance no longer tense. "Ms. Shimabukuro.
..
Gin, who had wanted to bundle Shimabukuro Kimie off to Nana some time ago and had finally actually done so, was not interested in the confrontation between the two of them.
What truly interested him was the situation over at Takao Haruki's end.
Ever since that Hell Puppeteer sought refuge in prison to escape the enemies he had recklessly drawn upon himself—and had simultaneously played a trick on his Nemesis in the process—Gin had not heard any news of him for some time.
Receiving news about him again now could only mean one thing.
—This guy is already preparing to break out of prison and cause trouble.
Regarding this, Gin was speechless.
Forget it, it won't affect him for the time being anyway.
However, Kimie certainly could no longer be kept with Takao Haruki.
After all, once this guy comes out.. he's bound to cause some trouble. It might have been fine normally, but right now, that mysterious B. W. force has not yet dispersed—
Takao Haruki could certainly handle one person alone, but he wouldn't necessarily care whether Shimabukuro Kimie lived or died.
It just so happens that Nana also needs a supervisor.
Gin expressed that he felt no pressure at all.
Mm, truly no pressure at all.
He lifted his eyes to look at the blonde-haired youth standing before him, whose face was adorned with a friendly smile that seemed perfectly suited to his gentle and sunny countenance.
However, judging by the expression on his face, which was gradually becoming stiff—
Gin blinked, turned around, dropped a brief command.
Follow him.
—The one feeling the pressure should be the opponent.
In a place where Amuro Tooru could not see, the Silver-haired youth's lips curled slightly upward, forming a somewhat wicked smile.
Amuro Tooru, who had been under Gin's gaze—which appeared cold and inquisitive but was actually far away in thought—for a full three minutes, felt a sense of vigilance while also being completely bewildered. He stared at the man's back in hesitation for a moment before finally stepping forward to follow him.
If I'm going to die, I should at least die knowing why.
..
However, it seemed that Gin had no intention of giving him a clear answer.
After walking through a labyrinth of winding paths for a long time, just as Amuro Tooru was beginning to wonder if Gin intended to lead him into an alleyway to strike him down, they finally turned out of the last alley.
What awaited them was a vast open space and a few prominent factories.
It really is a perfect place to kill and dump a body.
The Blonde-haired youth looked up at Gin, wondering in his heart if the man intended to make a move..
"Go to that factory and get my car back from them." The Silver-haired youth gave a slight nod of his chin to indicate the direction, his well-shaped lips uttering a few simple words.
It was less a request than a command.
Amuro Tooru: "??"
After all that, you came here to get the car?
Is it really necessary?
But—
"Isn't your Porsche.." parked at the place where we met?
Why not take a car if he has one, instead go through the trouble of making the trip on foot?
The Silver-haired youth gave him a faint glance, Amuro Tooru felt as if he saw a trace of disdain in it: "I don't like just anyone driving my car."
Amuro was speechless at the casual way he was addressed. He paused before asking, "Is it really necessary to come here? This seems to be a newly developed agricultural processing plant."
This time, Gin's gaze truly carried a hint of contempt—Amuro Tooru was certain of it. "It is an asset of the Black Organization."
The gaze of the Public Security elite flickered.
He didn't care at all whether he had revealed anything to the enemy—since this appeared to be a new Base established by Rum, Gin said quite indifferently, "Go ahead."
After a brief pause, he added a remark with a faint expression, his gaze meeting Amuro Tooru's grayish-purple eyes that held an indescribable meaning:
Go and come back quickly.
Amuro Tooru: ……
Fine, he finally understood.
So this is the Big Boss.
..
The Black Organization has always provided an excellent research environment for outstanding Scientists, but it lacks a certain human touch.
However, for Madra, the latter was no big deal.
The woman's long black hair was tied up with a string and then coiled and secured at the back of her head with a beige clip, she wore a white lab coat that tightly covered her pale skin.
However, her face was still inevitably exposed, her complexion showing a near-pathological paleness, which, paired with the woman's thin, blood-colored lips, added a touch of striking beauty.
Like a single red plum blossom amidst the vast, white snow.
Before entering the Laboratory, Madra had already removed her Ruby earrings and placed them in a locked, specialized storage box; at this moment, her ears were unadorned, the faint blue veins were faintly visible on her excessively pale earlobes.
She lifted her eyes to look at the test tube in her hand; its eerie light red hue gave off a chilling luster, but for a Researcher, an "anomaly" was not necessarily a bad thing.
The Assistant behind Madra was reporting the data from the previous experiment to her. He was a highly experienced professional who had graduated from a prestigious university; however, standing behind a woman over a decade younger than him, he showed not the slightest hint of dissatisfaction on his face.
Various professional terms spilled from the man's mouth, interspersed with some German and Spanish. Madra did not call for a stop; her gaze was fixed on the test tube in her hand, her eyes carrying an almost cold indifference.
Upon hearing a certain syllable, the Woman's cold expression finally showed some fluctuation. She lowered her eyes slightly, her voice carrying a subtle tremor, "Bring me the specific Report of the A21 Experiment."
“By the way,” Madra put down the test tube, her slender fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop, “Establish the Life Model for the subjects before and after it; I want to review them.”
Yes.
After the Assistant turned to leave, the Black-haired woman carefully labeled the test tube in her hands and then placed it in its new position.
She walked out of the Laboratory door, giving a slight nod to the Researcher who stepped forward to compliment her. After washing her hands and preparing to leave, she retrieved the items she had stored in the Storage box.
The screen of the silver-white mobile phone flickered with a faint light, indicating traces of unread SMS for its owner.