In the Organization, danger and opportunity coexist—and Heine clearly does not want his sister to get involved.
What's even better is that Sheila happens to be an Undercover—a ready-made excuse.
And after Sheila's death, even if Heine could not act for the time being—the ambiguous relationship between the two was no secret within the Black Organization. Without any evidence, even if Heine wanted to go down with Gin, it would only be regarded as a reckless act of false accusation driven by the grief of losing his love interest.
—And the deeper reason was something even Sheila had not anticipated.
Heine placed great importance on this brother, once Gin killed Sheila, Heine would not let him off even without evidence—and the Black Organization could not simply stand by and watch Heine attack Gin, which would inevitably trigger a conflict.
At this moment, as long as he took action to kill him himself.. he could then naturally pin it on the Black Organization, sparking a conflict between the Mafia and the Black Organization.
As long as he could bring himself to do it.
Gin's eyes were dark.
But I don't quite understand.." The clear, gentle female voice continued. Sheila was unaware of the demon's plan, merely stating his doubts slowly, slowly: "Why did you stop?
Gin looked up at him.
"Why—not making a move, just trying to scare me?" The words leaped lightly from Sheila's mouth. Gin frowned at Sheila's easygoing attitude, his green eyes sweeping coldly toward the Black-haired girl.
As if having understood the subtle disapproval within Gin's green eyes, Sheila blinked, his long, slender eyelashes brushing against his lower eyelid like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. "I am certain I said nothing wrong."
Gin: ……
He sneered, "Being too confident is not a good thing."
"Not a single good thing has happened today," Sheila retorted nonchalantly. After speaking casually, his gaze swept over Gin's slightly cold features, he then pursed his lips slightly, offering a pleasing smile.
She was truly too beautiful; out of appreciation for such unrealistic beauty, Gin did not hold it against her.
“You got a free pass from death, shouldn't you be happy about that?” The Silver-haired youth's voice was low and solemn. He suddenly felt a wave of inexplicable irritation, an irritation that made him not want to say another word to Sheila. "You can get lost. Remember what you should and shouldn't do."
This dismissal was incredibly cold and harsh, leaving no room for negotiation.
Any beautiful girl would rarely encounter such a cold rejection—let alone Sheila?
However, the ICPO elite felt no resentment at all. She scrutinized Gin, her gaze filled with a well-controlled curiosity—not enough to offend him, yet detailed enough to carefully observe every change in Gin's facial expressions.
After a long while, just as Gin was about to drive him away again, Sheila finally spoke up.
“Maybe I can stay a little longer?” She breathed a soft sigh of relief, her expression turning pleasant in the next moment.
Don't you want to hear my story?
Gin swallowed the mockery that had almost escaped his lips.
..
When he was very young, Sheila knew that his family members were different from ordinary people.
She has an aunt, a mother, a brother, but no father. — However, for a young girl, whether or not she has a father does not really matter.
Mother rarely came home, but whenever she did, she always brought all sorts of novel and fun things—ranging from small treats like various candies and desserts and wooden carvings, to larger items like tents, canoes, off-road vehicles; even strange and unusual things like shadow puppets, assembly models, astronomical telescopes, military Swiss Army knives, semi-automatic handguns, flashbangs.
Did something get mixed in?
Okay, the last few are dangerous items; as soon as Mother took them out, her sister's face changed.
Brother is not Mother's child, nor is he Aunt's child, but they both treat him very well.
Sometimes, Brother's father—who should actually be her father—would make a special effort to send letters, which left Aunt worried, but Mother never avoided Brother.
Mother was not actually like the mothers in books—even though she only returned a few times a year, Sheila knew she was a woman who had absolutely nothing to do with being gentle or kind.
She was unrestrained, free-spirited, radiant, defiant, yet possessed extraordinary talent; she could be ruthless, killing with a single, lethal blow, yet she could also be generous and dignified when gentle, sharp-tongued and smilingly lethal when striking back.
Most of the time, in front of Heine and Sheila, she was more like a big child—she would joke with them, mock their naivety, teach them how to handle a matter, or watch coldly as they ran headfirst into a wall.
She would also act spoiled toward Heloise, who was a few years older than her: "This steamed bun is way too sweet!"
As she grew slightly older, while other girls her age were playing with dolls and kicking balls, Sheila began her self-defense training.
These skills were basically taught by her Brother, sometimes Mother would also check her progress when she returned. Occasionally, as dusk fell and when Mother was in a good mood, she would tell her some little stories.
—Stories not suitable for children.
Later, Sheila only then learned that these incidents were actually Mother's own experiences.
Back then, a long time had passed, so long that Mother had passed away; the heroic Woman closed her eyes, amidst Sheila's wailing, the thick coffin lid was closed.
Columba's beauty and grace remained as they had always been, but Sheila and the others would never see them again.
Not long after, she was adopted by her Mother's friend.
Columba had many admirers—after all, she truly had a face that attracted them—even Sheila didn't know if this so-called "friend" was her Mother's admirer.
She might as well call her adoptive father, but due to a somewhat subtle mindset, she had always called that man Uncle.
Uncle is a member of the ICPO.
Compared to Mother, Sheila's talent was not that stunning, but it was certainly considered outstanding.
The Adoptive father is a very good person who never stifles Sheila's whimsical ideas; his colleagues are clearly all capable individuals, yet they also dote on this exquisite little child immensely.
She learned firearms, learned combat, learned tracking and anti-tracking, learned lie detection, learned many, many skills that others might never use in a lifetime.
However, for reasons unknown, despite his uncle's opposition, Sheila became a member of the police force and eventually joined the ICPO.
At first, I just wanted to see what my adoptive father's work was like," Sheila said about these things with a very natural attitude, without even a hint of the discomfort one feels when chatting with a criminal. "And—
And.. perhaps this job would bring her even closer to her Mother's life.
"Actually, in the eyes of many—in the eyes of an ordinary person, Mother's profession is clearly illegal," the Black-haired girl said calmly. There was not a trace of resentment or sadness in her eyes, only a very, very gentle calm.
“Brother is the same—and my Father likely is too.” She curled her lips and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “In that case, I actually seem like the odd one out.”
“Is that so?” Perhaps because the sunlight was too warm, the surroundings too quiet, the Black-haired girl's gaze too distant, Gin's tone also became more mellow.
That's right.. To be honest, regarding the actions of Brother and Mother.. I don't feel much—how should I put it.." Unable to find the right words for a moment, Sheila looked somewhat troubled, only able to gesture vaguely in the hope that his sole listener could understand. "It's not like I'm going to call for their execution.. that would be a bit unprofessional.. but I haven't engaged in any favoritism or malpractice either.
Sheila muttered a few words to himself, then found himself amused by his own words: "But I don't regret joining the ICPO either."
Gin ignored him.
Sheila didn't care either. She walked a few steps to the window, her gaze drifting into the distance with a hint of blankness.
Even though it seems like what I and my Brother do are more or less the same—killing, shootouts, lurking, deception, punishment room..
The black-haired beauty turned her head slightly, quietly observing the afternoon cityscape as sunlight poured down, the edges of the steel forest reflecting a light that was almost gentle.
But I know that their essence is different.
I know many people and have experienced many things; they have taught me a lot and helped me understand myself. ICPO is good. Even though I only wanted to give it a try at first, I have now made my choice.
He turned to face Gin.
Perhaps there are conflicts of interest involved that make some people less pure, but I know that I haven't changed—and that is enough.
If such a thing as conviction exists, then this is probably it.
As the light and shadow flickered, she stood against the light, his beauty so stunning it was almost unrealistic.
So I am not afraid—even if you intend to kill me, I am not afraid—this is the path I have chosen for myself.
Gin was dazed for a moment.
..
When Sheila left, he was almost silent.
Gin did not leave.
The sun set in the west, its glare fading, as the afterglow of the sunset painted the sky like a richly colored oil painting.
Gin did not even spare it a single glance.
Strange emotions churned within his chest, as if he had finally found the exit to the cave—only one final step remained.
He remembered what Tennessee had told him, he also remembered the scene of Scotland's death as recounted by him.
Were they the same? Because of something that could be called a belief, because it was a choice they made themselves, they never regretted anything, they were never even afraid of death.
Perhaps—
Otherwise, why would that group of Fake Liquor members struggle so hard to battle the Black Organization? Could they all be from consumer rights agencies or something?
They have their own convictions, their own ideals—which, in Gin's eyes, were undoubtedly foolish.
However, Gin once again recalled those fragments of the past—the distant ones, the recent ones, the ones he cared about, the ones he ignored; so many things from the past that he remembered and those he did not.
Tennessee's lingering gaze when mentioning his wife and child and his exhaustion regarding Black Organization missions; Shiratori Midori's appearance of never having been truly happy and his sorrowful eyes; Nana's hateful gaze and her disheveled expression; the slight boredom hidden beneath Vermouth's casual smile; the scene of Akai Shuichi meeting his gaze without a trace of emotion; Scotland's decisiveness in cutting off all hope and his composure in the face of death..
He suddenly wanted to ask those people.
He wanted to ask Vermouth: you have everything from the Black Organization, so why do you still loathe it? He wanted to ask Tennessee: has life in the Black Organization truly reached a point where you would risk your life to make a deal with him just to escape? He wanted to ask Shiratori Midori: why have you never been happy? He wanted to ask Scotland: are you truly willing to die?
He had always known that the Black Organization was evil, but to him, it had never felt real.
And now, scenes from the past intertwined within his mind. He went from not caring to caring, so finally, a quantitative change triggered a qualitative change. (1)
The fire in his chest had died out, burning the air clean, leaving behind a suffocating sensation as if all the oxygen had been stripped away.
The flames within the blood have burned out, extinguishing the heat, leaving even the blood cold.
He still does not regret his actions, he remains that decisive TOP Killer; in his heart, the lives of others are still insignificant.
He was never a good person—nor could he ever become a "so-called" good person.
Perhaps.. he might begin to consider some things that he had previously turned a blind eye to.
For example, the meaning the Black Organization holds for him.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Miss Sheila, to still be in the mood to incite defection at a life-or-death moment, truly impressive, truly impressive.
Sheila (shyly): I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare. It is simply what I should do. With enough time and effort, no one is safe from being turned. I must also contribute to the ICPO today!
Akai: ……
Amuro..
Gin.. You're overthinking it.
Heine: Will Gin bully my sister? Smiling JPG
Gin.. Just how thick is the filter you have on your sister?