In a strange silence, the youth suddenly let out a light chuckle. His silver hair fell slightly with his movement, his fingertips tapped the tabletop lightly before he said nonchalantly, "Then let's order another bowl of Udon."
..
Volume 2: Part Three—
Heine held the hand of a Red-haired girl, whispering to her while smiling.
From Borse's angle, this girl really couldn't be said to have anything special about her.
Admittedly, the red-haired waitress had a beautiful face, her skin a lovely tan that radiated the brilliance of youth. Her slender neck was delicate and pretty, as her gaze shifted slightly downward, her exquisite collarbones came into view.
The girl's features were not particularly striking, but together, they formed a very pleasant face, bright and full of youthful vigor. He leaned one hand on the Bar, his clear gaze fixed intently on Heine's handsome face, his eyes filled with a joyful smile.
Heine said something more to him, his blue eyes appearing even more intoxicating under the Bar light; she seemed amused, revealing his white, even teeth. The red-haired girl's laughter was clear yet not abrupt, as if a series of leaping musical notes were floating in the air, composing a refreshing movement.
Borse sat to the side expressionless, his gaze resting quietly on the Bar tabletop, without sparing even a shred of attention to the Senior standing a few steps away.
The Red-haired woman was indeed remarkably beautiful, however, she held no attraction for Borse.
Even the Black Organization's famous Blonde-haired beauty—the Poppy that blooms in the Dark—Vermouth, holds no attraction for Borse.
He sat quietly, looking quietly at the Bar before him, staring blankly in silence.
Fortunately, Heine still had a bit of a conscience. As the Senior who had treated him, Heine clearly could not just leave his junior aside like that.
He coaxed the Red-haired woman away with a few words, smiled as he ordered an expensive bottle of Whisky, then pulled the Red-haired woman into a light embrace to whisper something in her ear.
Even for someone as lively and bold as her, a hint of crimson colored the girl's face. The moment Heine let go, the red-haired girl took a step back, casting a reproachful glance at the man before her, before winking at him and turning to leave.
A carefree, dashing smile still lingered on Heine's face. He turned and walked toward Borse, apologizing in a slow voice, "I kept you waiting."
Borse slowly shifted his gaze from the tabletop of the Bar, then looked up at Heine's face. He did not smile, nor did he speak; he simply watched Heine quietly.
A few seconds later, a hint of stiffness appeared on Heine's face, his handsome brows furrowed slightly.
Borse averted his gaze and said indifferently, "It's fine."
Heine's mouth twitched slightly, so he stopped being polite and simply sat down decisively beside Borse, getting straight to the point: "Gin seems to have been quite busy lately."
Borse did not answer.
Heine tapped the table with his hand.
His fingers were long and beautiful, with faint traces of gun calluses on the knuckles—this was very similar to Gin's.
As they spoke, the Whisky Heine had previously ordered was brought over by the Red-haired girl. An ambiguous smile returned to the man's face, his blue eyes seemed filled with deep affection, almost drowning anyone who looked into them.
Borse had no interest in investigating whether this affection was real or fake; he remained silent, watching Heine chat and laugh with the young waiter, then cast his gaze back once the girl had left.
"He seems to have made a new friend." Heine poured the liquor from the bottle into a glass containing specially hand-carved ice spheres, then lightly swirled the glass, causing the ice cubes to clink against the glass walls with a pleasant "ting—" sound.
As the crisp sound rang out, Heine turned his head to look, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Heine asked with a smile:
“Do you know?”
Borse, who had remained silent, finally raised his eyes. He slowly opened his mouth, his voice low and his tone indifferent. "I don't know everything about the gentleman's matters."
I don't need to find everything out, either.
The black-haired youth raised his eyes to look at the man before him, a flash of sharpness passing through his black eyes.
He warned, "You don't need to, either."
"Don't get too excited, kid—I don't necessarily need to figure everything out." A faint smile still played on the corners of Heine's mouth. This smile was not as flippant as when he was *** with others before, nor was it as polite as when Heine first spoke.
That smile held a mysterious depth.
“However, some people feel the need to find out for themselves—"
As soon as the words fell, Heine cast his gaze toward the entrance of the Bar, gesturing nonchalantly, "Look, he's here."
Cavendish walked in through the main door, wearing a black trench coat. He walked with haste, his expression cold, as if he had brought a gust of chilling frost from the wind and snow outside.
Borse frowned.
“But you don't need to worry—" Heine's unique accent reached his ears, the man's voice carrying a hint of a half-smile. "Gin is not a careless person."
That newly met 'friend' was likely a bait deliberately thrown out by the Silver-haired youth.
See, didn't the fish take the bait?
..
Volume 1: Part 4—
Gin returned from Europe very quickly.
Setting aside all the various events that occurred after that, the incident that left the deepest impression on Borse—which was really nothing more than a single sentence—was this.
At the end of the drinking session that day, Heine used his intoxication as an excuse to ask him a single question.
The blonde-haired man's cheeks were slightly flushed, his blue eyes seemed to be shrouded in a thin layer of mist, however, the gaze he directed at Borse remained clear and lucid.
Even the corners of his mouth still held that inexplicable, meaningful smile.
Little guy—" Heine asked him, "To whom, exactly, do you give your loyalty?
..
Volume 1: Part 5—
To whom, exactly, have you given your loyalty?
By the time Heine asked this question, rumors regarding Borse had already begun to surface, more or less, within the Black Organization.
The general idea was that any mission Gin assigned to Borse, the black-haired youth would complete thoroughly; as for other missions—
The combat losses and efficiency were equally impressive. [Smiling JPG]
Borse understood what Heine meant.
This flippant Senior was not merely asking out of curiosity, but was also giving a subtle warning.
This reminder was sudden, yet perfectly reasonable.
Asking himself, Borse and Heine had no connection, the reason Heine would go out of his way to give a reminder was clearly not Borse, who had nothing to do with him.
So.. is it for the Gin Bar?
That is quite good.
It's quite good.
..
Volume 2, Part 6—
To whom, exactly, do you give your loyalty?
This is not a difficult question to answer, the answer seems obvious.
It was an answer that would not make anyone feel awkward.
My loyalty, of course, belongs to the Organization.
After all, Gin is currently loyal to the Black Organization.
..
From this day forward, you will follow me.
……Yes.
In Borse's eyes, many things were simple.
Because Borse's world is very simple.
It was so simple that his heart could only hold one person.
-----------------------
Author's Note: This is Borse's perspective; the events basically take place during those few years between Volume 1 and Volume 2.
Chapter 193 Non-responsibility side story Borse Arc (End)
Borse did not know if Gin remembered the words he had spoken to him.
But it didn't matter, as long as he remembered.
As long as there is still one person who remembers, then that first sentence—which wasn't even a formal invitation—has meaning.
..
Volume 2: Part One—
Time flies.
Time brings not only the passage of years, but also the precious experience gained from mission after mission and battle after battle—as long as you can survive.
Gin once said that compared to those idiots, your performance was much better.
The Silver-haired man might have forgotten this sentence, but he was certainly not wrong.
Even among the Cadre of the Black Organization who have already obtained codenames, Borse's ability and potential can be described as outstanding.
It was no wonder someone once compared him to Gin; he truly possessed the strength to command respect.
Thus, the youth, who was already an unpolished gem, gradually blossomed under the carving of Time, releasing a brilliance as dazzling as a gemstone.
Dazzlingly brilliant.
However, Borse, who had already become a youth, was calm and low-profile to the point of being indifferent.
He was like a shadow by Gin's side; everything he did and every achievement he created was always linked back to Gin, to the point that sometimes, even Gin himself would frown slightly.
“These idiots.” The Silver-haired youth evaluated the person who always associated Borse with himself: “It's one thing to lack brains, but can't they even see clearly?”
Gin was consistently cold and arrogant.
He was a chosen son of heaven by nature; even when immersing himself in the Dark, he was the most dazzling streak of cold, crimson blood amidst the thickest night. His pride and status stemmed from his own strength, because of this, Gin disdained attributing the achievements of others to himself.
Moreover, Borse was already his confidant.