Chapter Eighteen: The Mission

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In Tokyo, within a secret underground chamber inaccessible to outsiders, sat Gin and Vodka. Gin wore a blank expression as he lounged on the sofa, idly puffing on a cigarette. Vodka glanced anxiously at the file rack not far from the cigarette butt in Gin’s hand, hesitating to speak.

Forget it. As long as the boss is happy. Although the boss only executes traitors, someone loyal like me, even if I displease him, won’t get peanuts thrown at me. I, Vodka, have survived this long in the organization not only because of my loyalty but also due to my keen sense of reading people’s words and expressions.

“Vodka,” Gin finally spoke after a long wait, his face darkening, “is the intelligence department all useless?”

“They say that no matter which country Morley is in, there’s not a single government record, not even a whisper of his existence. No traces of his life. No official or unofficial entry or exit records. No hotel or restaurant stays in Japan, no convenience store purchases—no one had seen him before he appeared publicly.” Vodka crushed the cigarette in the ashtray, the sharpness in Gin’s gaze making him shiver.

“B-Boss…” Vodka pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. “That’s what they’re saying.”

Gin’s brow furrowed deeply, his eyes shadowed. Whether it was MI6, the FBI, CIA, France’s Directorate-General for External Security, or others, the organization had dealt with them all.

If they wanted to plant a mole inside the organization, they would give him a plausible fake identity—not painstakingly erase all traces of his past and then have him suddenly appear in Japan, coincidentally crossing paths with the organization.

So where did this man come from? What was his purpose in contacting the organization? How had he wiped his past clean?

Yet they couldn’t rule out the possibility that he was a planted mole… maybe they wanted to exploit that very uncertainty?

But such an operation was costly and might yield no gain… Would they really do that?

From start to finish, Gin never entertained the idea that he had just randomly picked up a criminal genius on the street.

The odds were virtually zero. This wasn’t like catching a shiny Pokémon—just by encountering enough, one might appear.

Still, Gin felt reluctant to remove Morley outright.

If Morley were a spy on a mission, it would be simpler—both sides were enemies, and cutting ties wouldn’t increase their foes.

But what if Morley genuinely wanted to defect? What if, after a fallout, he ran away?

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With his skills and disguise abilities, although he might not be capable of seriously harming the organization, a surprise attack from the shadows would be nasty enough.

His abilities were just a notch below mine; if he wasn’t eliminated on the spot, it could spell endless trouble.

Then Gin reconsidered: even if he was a spy, early in the infiltration phase, Morley would need to prove his loyalty by serving the organization.

Better to accept him for now. If anything happens…

Thinking this, a cruel smile tugged at Gin’s lips.

Vodka discreetly stepped back half a pace, a cold sweat trickling down his back.

Though the boss was kind to him, every time he saw that smile, chills ran down his spine.

“Boss, then should we…” Vodka tried tentatively.

Gin glanced sideways at him.

“Not yet. Assign him a task first. I’ll personally have someone watch him. By the way, didn’t we recently have a clash with those guys? Perfect—let that kid ‘send a message’…”

He turned and walked into the elevator.

“Let them know: if you mess with the organization, be ready for retaliation.”

…

Morley lay on his bed, scrolling through the mission briefing sent by the organization.

“Using animals as code names? Sounds less cool than using spirits of alcohol…”

Tonight’s target was another group recently in conflict with the organization. For convenience, Morley decided to call them the Zoo.

But looking at the codenames—Snake, Spider—Morley thought it might be more fitting to call it the Reptile and Insect Park; still, Zoo was easier to say, so he stuck with it.

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To distinguish himself, the organization had officially given Morley’s side a codename: Distillery.

The briefing explained that for a long time, the Zoo had targeted the collection of world-famous gems, keeping a hands-off relationship with the Distillery.

A few days ago, a wealthy benefactor of the Distillery received an email from the Zoo, expressing interest in buying a precious gem he possessed.

But that gem was a beloved keepsake of the benefactor’s late wife, so he refused to hand it over.

The Zoo then planned an unprincipled and brazen robbery.

Unbeknownst to them, the benefactor was prepared and called in the Distillery’s people to protect him and the gem.

According to the returning squad’s report, during the standoff, the Zoo members were arrogant and refused to accept the organization’s reasonable terms—namely, to leave quickly—and even initiated a sneak attack (though this was uncertain).

In the ensuing melee, two brothers were shot; one died on the spot.

The Distillery’s leadership unanimously decided to teach the audacious Zoo a lesson.

They wanted the Zoo to know who ruled Tokyo’s underworld, who was the true boss.

Recently, the organization’s informants learned of another Zoo operation tonight, targeting the sapphire known as “Blue Birth.”

Morley’s mission: sabotage their operation and kill at least one Zoo member. But to avoid escalating to outright hostility, no more than two casualties should occur.

The Distillery leadership did not want a blood feud with the Zoo, as there was no fundamental conflict of interest.

But they had been slapped in the face; retaliation was imperative.

Otherwise, other groups might be tempted to replace them; rank-and-file members could become disheartened, harming organizational unity; and without retaliation, how could they face the Zoo at the negotiating table or leverage this incident for a beneficial deal?

The mission also warned that the phantom thief Kid had sent a notice to the gem’s owner, so be wary of possible interference.

If necessary, letting Kid take the gem was acceptable, as long as the Zoo failed.

“That ‘white-clad flying clown’…” Morley smiled with amused interest. “Oh, so Japan has its own Arsène Lupin… These Japanese sure know how to be flashy.”

Morley rose from the bed and opened the floor-to-ceiling window to step onto the balcony.

At some point, a cloak had draped over his shoulders, shimmering faintly blue under the moonlight, rustling in the evening breeze.

“Hen…shin!”

A flash of white light.

Morley closed the window and leapt from the balcony!