To this day, Borse still remembers the scene of the first time he met Gin.
At that time, the black-haired boy had just received a mission from the Organization. But perhaps due to a minor error in the Intelligence Department, what was supposed to be a simple trial mission had become fraught with danger.
Almost all of his Companions of a similar age had been wiped out, with only a few Seniors still struggling to hold on, though it was clear they were at the end of their strength.
Bloodstains stained the youth's pale white cheek; the bulletproof vest on his body saved his life, but the powerful impact of the bullet still caused the youth to suffer broken ribs.
Her chest felt like a broken bellows with a leak, he gasped for air heavily, the bangs on her forehead matted with sweat and clumped together, sticking stickily to her skin.
Sweat mixed with beads of blood streaked down from her forehead, with a few drops sliding across her eyelids, blurring her vision.
In a lull amidst the gunfire and bullets, the youth casually reached up to wipe his face, leaving blackish-gray stains on his fair skin alongside crimson bloodstains.
Between her lips and tongue, there was the faint, familiar taste of blood, that salty and astringent taste of rust. He wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he felt his molars loosening slightly.
The next second, he saw a gun barrel pointed directly at him.
..
Volume 1: Chapter 8—
The dark muzzle of a gun is a sharp tool that devours flesh and blood, the bullets released from it, like those of a ferocious beast, have always been inextricably linked to slaughter.
The Black-haired boy had killed people with a gun, so he naturally understood the power of a bullet—it was far from the casual thing depicted in television and movies.
However, at the moment the Goddess of Fate smiled at him, the Black-haired boy was unexpectedly calm.
It wasn't that he wasn't afraid, it was just that being afraid was useless.
So he simply stopped wasting his efforts.
At this moment, the youth couldn't help but feel a sense of regret.
He had lived for over ten years, without a doubt, he was still a youth.
Ten years of Time is neither long nor short. To some elderly white-haired people, this Time might be just a small part of their life; however, to some toddlers just learning to speak, ten years of Time is already long enough.
However, at this very moment, the Black-haired boy [male] silently recalled every detail of his life, yet he actually could not find the meaning of his existence.
Why live?
He didn't know.
All along, he had lived according to routine, trained according to routine, killed according to routine.
And now, he was also about to die, just as everything else had gone according to plan.
What matters was something that came from his heart, something that came from his own will, something he truly wanted to do?
The Black-haired boy [male] did not know.
What made him feel even more regretful was that he was going to die very soon.
There was already no time left.
In a flash, the black-haired boy looked at the muzzle of the gun pointed directly at him, his mind racing through countless thoughts before he slowly blinked his eyes.
In the heat of the battle, between life and death, a Bullet sliced through the air in a sharp arc, striking him right between the eyes.
The person who fell was not him.
The black-haired boy froze slightly, turning his head to look back as if haunted by a nightmare—
—and came face to face with a pair of cold green eyes.
This was their first meeting.
..
Volume 1: Nineteen—
That day, Gin was rarely seen without his usual standard black coat; he wore only a white casual T-shirt, layered with a light blue denim jacket.
Khaki trousers wrapped around the youth's long, powerful legs, outlining beautiful muscles. Gin's legs were very attractive, with smooth, long, powerful lines; his clean and smart casual outfit further emphasized the youth's height and long legs.
He stood against the light, looking down slightly at the black-haired boy [male].
The black-haired boy looked up at Gin.
Sunlight poured down recklessly, shining directly into the youth's eyes, making it almost impossible to keep them open for a moment, that youth stood there with his hands in his pockets against the light; in the hazy shimmer, it was as if a layer of golden radiance enveloped his entire body.
Due to the light, the youth could not see Gin's expression clearly, but he could faintly see the way his silver hair was tinged by the sunlight in the air.
The youth lowered his eyes slightly, a hint of satisfaction rippling through his jade-like green eyes. His voice was low and mellow, with a coldness in the trailing notes that refused to dissolve into the warm, bright sunlight: "Compared to those idiots, your performance was much better."
His usually loose silver hair was tied back casually with a hair tie, revealing the youth's cold and resolute facial contours. Her fair skin was currently tinged with warmth by the sunlight.
Her bangs hung lightly over her forehead, brushing against her eyelids. Gin's lips curled into a slight smirk, the faint scent of blood still lingered on her.
The muzzle of the black Beretta handgun, which had just fired a bullet to kill the enemy, still held a faint scent of gunpowder. He didn't know if it was just psychological, but the black-haired boy felt a lingering aura of killing intent emanating from Gin.
Gin arrived in a timely manner, his movements calm and composed.
His sharp marksmanship harvested the lives of the enemies that had the youth struggling in a difficult battle; his every movement was crisp and decisive, without a hint of hesitation, simply and easily pulling Borse back from the brink of death.
This murderous aura blended with the coldness in the corners of the handsome youth's eyes, transforming into glimmers of cold light within his green eyes.
The moment he locked eyes with that cold glint, the Black-haired boy's lips curled into a slight smirk.
When Gin arrived, he seemed like a divine being, when he left, he departed as effortlessly as a man waving his sleeve, leaving nothing behind. He stretched his wrist, said something nonchalant to a certain Senior, then, before leaving, cast a seemingly casual glance at the youth.
The Silver-haired youth's departing figure quickly turned into a tiny speck. The Black-haired boy stared at the small shop for a long time, only slowly coming to his senses after his Senior called his name.
Ah.
He responded softly.
The weather was wonderful today, the sunlight was bright, the sky was clear for miles. Warm sunlight spilled across the earth, even the previous blood and carnage seemed not to be so nauseating under this warm light.
..
Volume 1: Chapter Ten—
The weather was wonderful this day, the Sunlight was bright, the sky was clear for miles. Warm Sunlight spilled across the earth, under this warm light, the previous bloodshed seemed to become not so nauseating.
The Black-haired boy thought casually: The sunlight is truly wonderful.
Sunlight spilled upon the Earth, upon the leaves, upon the people.
It seemed that a tiny glimmer of light also fell into the youth's eyes.
And so, a sliver of cool light seemed to rise within those dead, black eyes.
..
Middle Volume: Part One—
When Borse chose his codename, it happened to coincide with Gin's leave.
The mission arrangements within the Black Organization were actually quite unscientific. When busy, one could work day and night without a break, but when free, one would spend months just staring blankly, letting time pass.
After spending three months in Europe, Gin finally welcomed his vacation time.
However, during his full month and a half of paid leave, the Organization's Top Killer gradually began to feel bored.
He calculated the time, patted his beloved Handgun, decided to get some exercise—after all, in this line of work, one careless mistake could really take a life.
And Borse happened to run into Gin just as he was planning to "stretch his bones."
The Silver-haired youth casually scanned the list, pointing at a few familiar names, happened to lay eyes on the Black-haired boy he had once personally brought under his command.
He blinked and made a mark next to Borse's name.
So, after having his codename for less than two months, Gin had gone on several missions with Borse.
To say they went on a mission isn't quite accurate; more accurately, it should be said that these two completed every mission on the list that they could manage along the way.
This matter caused a small sensation within the Black Organization, but for Gin's acquaintances—
Vermouth gave Borse a knowing glance, then turned his gaze toward the Silver-haired youth. "This newcomer is quite good.. You seem very satisfied."
Leaning against the sofa, the Silver-haired youth lazily lifted his eyes to glance at the Blonde-haired woman, nodding in agreement, "Yeah."
..
Volume 2: Part 2—
It was only when Borse began completing missions independently that he realized how much less trouble it was when he was working with Gin.
This is absolutely not because of his rose-colored glasses.
Although Gin was not at all polite when assigning tasks, he was indeed incredibly efficient whenever he formulated plans. Not only was his combat prowess high, but his intelligence was also among the top within the Black Organization; he handled matters decisively and achieved twice the results with half the effort, proving himself completely worthy of his high salary.
The only shortcoming, perhaps, is that Gin does not care much about his daily necessities, food, or travel—consequently, his subordinates or partners often end up serving as half-nannies for his daily life.
However, this was not a problem at all in Borse's eyes.
Gin has no high standards for food; as long as it isn't too disgusting, he can swallow it—of course, whether he likes it or not is another matter entirely.
Therefore, he could eat sweet things, he didn't object to spicy things either.
—But Borse could not eat spicy food.
The black-haired boy, whose taste buds were stimulated by a bit of spicy sauce, hurriedly lowered his head. He unconsciously opened his mouth, repeatedly breathing out air in an attempt to dispel the stinging sensation on the tip of his tongue.
Someone beside him handed him a Glass.
Borse didn't have time to distinguish, so he raised his hand and drained the water in the glass in one gulp. The cool liquid slid across his taste buds, the sensation on his tongue that felt like being burned slowly faded away.
The Black-haired boy let out a long breath.
He looked up belatedly, gazing at the Boss beside him, who was observing him thoughtfully.
When meeting the youth's gaze, Gin slightly raised an eyebrow. "You can't eat even a little bit of spice?"
Borse nodded.
He seemed to feel that a mere nod was not respectful enough, so after nodding, he added, "I don't like spicy food."
Gin glanced at the spicy hotpot in front of him; the rising steam released a rich aroma, a scent that truly whetted his appetite.
Amidst the curling wisps of steam, Gin's voice was slightly low, making the curiosity in his tone almost imperceptible: "Where is the wasabi?"
Although it was just a simple phrase, Borse still understood the meaning behind Gin's words. He lowered his eyes slightly and answered honestly, "Soy sauce with wasabi is fine."
Gin tilted her head and said out of the blue, "Let's go eat Sashimi tonight."
Borse naturally did not object.