However, he did not open the box. Instead, he carefully shifted himself deep into the Sofa, maneuvering into a position that was both comfortable and wouldn't affect his wound, his Voice laced with a slow, languid laziness.
"So tired." — He complained, half-joking.
Gin gave a light chuckle, the sunlight streaming through the window and resting on his slightly pale face, as bright golden light spots danced upon his eyelashes: "Serves you right."
Who told you to bring a wolf into your own home?
He specifically found someone to protect his Sister, as a result, while his Sister remained safe and unharmed, that "annoying" (in Heine's words) Mercenary had clung to him.
As a good Brother—and a Heine who is striving to become an even better Brother.. he was feeling quite depressed today as well.
Gin felt that Heine probably even had the urge to kill Anthony, his Italian compatriot, to silence him.
"It looks like your injuries aren't that serious?" Gin asked, appearing nonchalant.
There was nothing to hide, so Heine lifted his eyelids slightly. "It's not too serious; it just looked a bit scary during the first few days."
A bad location for the wound?" Gin made a reasonable guess, taking a sip of beer in the process. "You seem to have bandages wrapped around you as well.
Because of his injuries, Heine felt extremely stifled as he could only watch helplessly, however, he could not afford to provoke the person opposite him—the one who imposed all sorts of regulations and restrictions on others' freedom—he simply could not bring himself to do it.
So he could only let out a cold laugh, "Sheila made me do this."
Gin looked up and sized him up, offering a subtle comment on Heine's new look: "Quite.. unique."
Heine: …………
That's why," he sighed gloomily. "I was the one who saved him, so why can't she just say a single 'thank you' instead of constantly nagging me about everything!
Gin put down the beer bottle and turned his attention back to Heine. "So.. the attacker was after Sheila."
Heine nodded.
Gin remained silent for three seconds in thought, looking at Heine, who also appeared to be deep in thought, before slowly averting his gaze.
"I don't think you should focus too much on these," he said, his gaze shifting back to the small box that had just been handed over. He offered a faint劝诫, attempting to change the subject, though it sounded exactly like he was talking nonsense.
Nonsense, he was indeed talking nonsense—he didn't even have a biological sister; the one he knew had been kidnapped long ago.
Heine gave a cold laugh. "You make it sound so easy, I—"
"I also think you shouldn't focus too much on other things, Brother," a relatively familiar female voice came from behind. Gin looked up toward the living room door and, unsurprisingly, spotted Sheila's figure.
Sheila bowed slightly toward Gin.
Not having seen her for a few days, the Black-haired girl seemed to have grown even thinner. As she bent down, his slightly loose, coat-style jumpsuit inadvertently outlined Sheila's waist. His already slender waist looked as if it could be held in a single hand, tucked into high-waisted trousers, appearing slim and delicate.
His pale face was devoid of makeup, adorned only with exhaustion and worry, his blue eyes were slightly bloodshot. Even her once light footsteps now seemed heavy.
Heaven seems to favor this girl exceptionally; even after staying up for two consecutive nights, Sheila looks merely slightly haggard, not disheveled at all. —On the contrary, she is heart-wrenching.
However, from Gin's perspective, although it was clearly the brother who was injured, the sister appeared to be in a worse mental state.
"Brother," Sheila said, standing up straight again. She seemed to ignore the guest in the house, first scanning her brother's side to see if anything "out of place" had appeared—such as the Beer in Gin's hands.
Then she expressed quite seriously, "Brother, it's about time you went back to your room to rest."
I'm really fine.. I don't need to keep lying down, right?" Heine attempted to argue. "Can you let me get up and walk around a bit?
Sheila smiled. When she smiled, it was as if cherry blossoms were in full bloom, birds were singing, the sky and water met, gentle ripples spread—even the sunlight seemed a few shades brighter.
He shuddered.
"What do you think?" Sheila's smile remained unchanged, with a simple tilt of his head, he forced his older brother to swallow the words that were already on the tip of his tongue.
Heine.. how else could Heine feel?
She nodded stiffly, "Okay.. I'll continue resting."
Sheila's smile shifted from a threat to a gentle expression. He nodded softly toward Heine, his voice light as he said, "Alright, I'll go bring the soup out to you."
The black-haired girl turned and walked toward the kitchen, as she brushed past, she exchanged a look with Gin.
..
"Brother was injured because he was protecting me." Sheila's voice was low and light; if not for the surrounding silence, it would have been almost overlooked.
"I heard." Gin slightly raised his eyes, casually pulling out the car key, the silver-white metal glinting under the sunlight.
After his green eyes rested on the car key for three seconds, they shifted back to Sheila.
"This was no accident," the Girl asserted.
A chilling frost appeared within her blue eyes, like a block of ice at the deepest part of an iceberg that had been frozen solid. The moment Gin locked eyes with her, he felt as if he were seeing frost and snow.
Interested [male].
The Silver-haired youth thought.
The Girl did not notice Gin's thoughts. She felt the pain of her dearest family members as if it were her own; especially when Heine took that gunshot for her, after all these years, she once again experienced a terrifying fear that made her eyes nearly burst from their sockets.
She would have preferred to be the one who was injured.
She hated the feeling of bringing danger to her Family.
Pain and Guilt tormented his at every moment—Sheila was not one to mistreat himself, so while enduring them, he also transformed them into rage.
Just wait.
I know," Gin said slowly. "I also know that if everything is as I suspect, then the next one.. will likely be Cavendish.
His Voice was unhurried, sounding somewhat low in the current atmosphere, yet it instead conveyed a composed calm, an intertwining of confidence and arrogance.
Sheila blinked belatedly, then suddenly looked up to stare at Gin, a hint of confusion appearing on his stunningly beautiful face.
In the next second, the i Phone in the Silver-haired youth's pocket vibrated.
-----------------------
Author's Note: The countdown for Volume Two continues.
My dear ones, I'm back!
If nothing unexpected happens, there will be a double update tomorrow. Miju~
..
Thanks to the landmine from the person who is looking forward to summer vacation, love you mwah~
Thanks to 19964096 Wutong's mines, love you mwah~
Thanks to Tianran Juanjia's multiple landmines, love you mwah~
And thanks to the Little Angels for the Nutrient solution~
19964096 Wutong 60 bottles; Yin Jiyan 34 bottles; How Much Longer Until Summer Vacation 20 bottles; Junchuan 15 bottles; Jinse Beiguo, Lai Bu Zui, ヾLiunian 10 bottles each; Yinse Yuyi, Yan Jie, Shiyi QAQ 5 bottles each; Mutong, Kongshan Jue, Guimu 2 bottles each; Bai Chenshang, Yedi Diya, Huyan Jueruo Xing 1 bottle each;
Thank you, everyone~
Chapter 107: Just a Slightly Silly Smile
Cavendish has indeed run into trouble.
A sniper who holds a significant position within the organization, being sniped by an unknown person at this very moment—it sounds quite absurdly farcical.
If he hadn't been wearing a bulletproof vest, he probably wouldn't be lying in a Hospital recovering from his injuries and chatting with the doctor by his bedside; instead, he would be facing a silent standoff with a forensic pathologist.
Gin poured a glass of water for the patient. Under the man's slightly longing gaze, he picked up the recently peeled apple. His green eyes swept lightly over the half-dead, black-haired man before he brought the apple to his lips—
He took a bite.
"I really can't rely on you." Cavendish leaned back on the bed and gave Gin an eye roll.
If he were not exhausted from a whole day of social pleasantries, this man, who was quite meticulous in his actions, would not have made such a move.
Gin took a bite of the apple; the sweet juice was tinged with a hint of faint tartness, the skin still emitted a light fruity aroma. The flesh was crisp and refreshing, cool and juicy; considering the prices in Japan, it shouldn't be cheap.
After chewing and swallowing the fruit, Gin curled the corner of his mouth slightly toward him: "What do you think I'm here for?"
“Here to watch the show?” Cavendish made a ruthless yet perfectly reasonable guess. He closed his eyes for a moment in exhaustion, though a faint, lingering trace of a smile still remained. “Or is it for the helicopter?”
“Good to know,” Gin said nonchalantly, his voice slightly low as he gazed at that delicious-looking apple for a moment.
"Don't worry, I won't back out of the deal," Cavendish said leisurely.
Gin tossed the half-eaten Apple into the trash can. "Your injury looks quite serious, doesn't it?"
It only looks that way." The Black-haired man tilted his head slightly. As Cavendish recalled the scene from not long ago, his eyebrows furrowed slightly; no rage that could destroy reason appeared on his handsome face, but his shock and suspicion were real. "The target of that shot seemed to be my chest—though that's quite normal, considering how many organs are distributed there.
Because I was on a mission, I was wearing a bulletproof vest," Cavendish said, lowering his gaze. "I heard that shot was about six hundred yards? It probably broke one of my ribs.. It's not that serious.
Gin nodded thoughtfully, taking a tissue in the process and slowly wiping the juice that might have remained on his hands.
"I'm leaving," Gin said, bidding farewell without the slightest hint of lingering, as if he had carved out time from his busy schedule to visit the Hospital just to eat an apple—or rather, half an apple.
Cavendish remained noncommittal regarding his colleague's complete lack of camaraderie, lowering his gaze slightly to reveal obvious exhaustion.
Black eyes were hidden beneath his eyelids, but with Gin's keen vision, he could easily see Cavendish's pupils trembling slightly, clearly caught in a dilemma of being rationally able to open them but physiologically unwilling to do so.
The Patient on the hospital bed closed his eyes and nodded slightly. At this moment, the bleeding had been stopped, but the man's handsome face still appeared somewhat pale.
Gin did not intend to disturb him much. He stood up and walked toward the door, but as he reached the doorway, the Silver-haired youth's footsteps suddenly came to a halt.
He unconsciously rested his hand against the doorframe, his index finger applying slight pressure to the wooden door panel. Gin turned his face slightly to the side, but he did not look back.
"Don't die so soon," he said indifferently.
He then walked out of the ward without even looking back.
However, even though he had already left, the words he left behind reached Cavendish's ears without a single discrepancy. The Black-haired man froze for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.
“Of course not.”
He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps he was answering someone.
Someone.. who has already left.
..
Cavendish's injury was largely within Gin's expectations, as for the Mastermind, the Silver-haired youth also had some degree of suspicion.
At first, he also thought it was Bourbon. However, after he had warned the blonde-haired youth during the trip to Africa, the other had restrained himself significantly; no matter how he looked at it, there was no reason for him to suddenly go mad at a time like this.
Moreover, even if he did want to go crazy, Gin, who had returned after his trip to Africa, had long since made preparations.