Amuro-kun is Definitely Not Bourbon-chan

Okiya Subaru stared at the computer screen for a long time, then reached for the cigarette pack within arm's reach and pulled out a cigarette, placing it in his mouth.

Fumbling through his upper pocket yielded nothing, so he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a lighter.

With two clicks, the lighter failed to spark.

Steadying his hand, Okiya Subaru fell silent for a moment before using his other hand to block a non-existent wind, lighting the cigarette in his mouth.

Okiya Subaru.

No.

At this moment, he should be called Akai Shuichi, who was currently reeling in shock from his own deduction.

His hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly.

For a moment, Akai Shuichi felt frustrated for having missed something because of his own assumptions.

He should have realized it sooner. Who else but the Boss could have Vermouth and Bourbon personally pick them up with such grandeur?

Akai Shuichi leaned back against the foot of the bed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

A careless mistake.

Had he known, he should have returned to America; perhaps he could have joined the pursuit.

He heard that when the FBI was tailing the car carrying Stilo, they were thoroughly toyed with by the driver.

Who was driving? Vermouth?

Unlikely; she didn't have such superb driving skills.

Could it be Bourbon?

Because in the organization, Scotch usually drove when Bourbon went out. Occasionally, when Scotch wasn't on a mission, Bourbon would either ride in Gin's Porsche or drag him along.

Akai Shuichi had also, because of this, never witnessed Bourbon's driving skills.

He felt that man was exceptionally capable in every aspect.

Releasing his nose, Akai Shuichi stared at the dark ceiling, his mind drifting.

Come to think of it, Bourbon hadn't been brainwashed by the Boss, right? If the other knew the Boss's whereabouts now, could they cooperate with the FBI to wipe out the organization in one fell swoop?

But he had no idea what Amuro-kun was thinking.

Once that person returned from America, could he establish contact with Amuro-kun through the boy who had a very close relationship with him?

The little detective was currently up to something, seemingly investigating some matters earlier.

He wondered if he had succeeded.

Ah...

Although he hid many things from the little detective, under certain circumstances, he still needed to obtain intelligence from him.

He really was a wicked adult.

Akai Shuichi suddenly smiled and shook his head, closing his laptop.

The room lost its only light source, instantly plunging into darkness.

A cigarette in one hand, a glass of liquor in the other.

Swirling the glass, watching the light reflect off the ice cubes, Akai Shuichi felt as though a mysterious, massive hand was manipulating the organization's affairs from behind the scenes.

Leaving people utterly bewildered.

Sometimes, he even felt that everything was progressing far too smoothly.

Whether it was his infiltration into the organization, his escape, or the current issues within the organization and the entry points he discovered.

Everything—

Was too smooth, as if someone behind the scenes had calculated everything perfectly.

Things appeared risky but proceeded without any unexpected obstacles.

Taking off his flat-lens glasses, his eyes opened, his green pupils glinting with a cold light.

Leaning against the foot of the bed, Akai Shuichi tapped his thigh with his finger.

He needed to think this through carefully.

The key to it all.

There must be some hidden clue that could unravel all the mysteries.

Akai Shuichi clasped his hands in front of his mouth. Combined with the dim light of the room, he looked exceptionally gloomy, resembling a major villain.

Meanwhile, a certain American hero, who had left America and never wanted to return to that land, was currently standing at a private airfield belonging to a codenamed member. Under the sunlight, he stretched, being missed by the FBI's ace, the unknown mastermind behind the scenes—Bourbon-kun.

After experiencing two consecutive days of being chased by the FBI and escaping, he had finally set foot on his country's soil once again.

"How refreshing!" Furuya Rei stood in front of the aircraft hangar with his hands on his hips, full of energy. Looking at the sunlight overhead, he couldn't help but feel even more triumphant as he recalled how he had run the FBI ragged over the past two days.

In contrast to him, the two behind him emerged supporting themselves against the cabin door.

Although two days wasn't a long time, and they showed no outward changes, their fingers gripping the cabin door were pale from exertion, and their faces bore the relief of surviving a disaster.

Every detail spoke of the soul-crushing experiences they had endured over those two days.

"If possible, I never want to ride in a vehicle driven by Lance again," Vermouth had a weak smile on her face. "No, actually, any transportation operated by Lance."

Heaven knew when this child she had watched grow up had learned to fly a plane, and his flying was just as wild as his driving.

The dozen or so hours flying back to Japan from America was an experience she and the Boss probably never wanted to recall.

With no one chasing them from behind, couldn't Lance have flown a bit more steadily?

Stilo stood behind Vermouth, leaning on his cane, his smile remaining, though it looked very forced.

His disheveled collar indicated he was not as calm as he appeared.

In response to Vermouth's words, his lips twitched as if he wanted to offer some comfort to this woman who was both his descendant and subordinate, but it was entirely useless.

The corner of his mouth fell back down after barely rising for two seconds.

Trembling, he leaned on his cane and walked down the safety stairs.

Then.

The usually elegant Boss's vessel, Stilo, squatted on the ground, repeating the scene that had occurred continuously in America.

"Yue~"

Extremely ungentlemanly, extremely inelegant.

Furuya Rei, who was still admiring his country's sky and enjoying the breeze, felt a sudden wave of guilt upon seeing Stilo squatting nearby.

No, what did he have to feel guilty about?

It was merely an innocent Bourbon-chan who, after learning to fly, was a bit too excited during his first actual flight. Of course, it was also possible that Bourbon-chan's skills weren't fully polished yet, leading to such a bumpy ride.

Wait.

Why let a novice like Bourbon-chan fly the plane?

Wasn't it because after boarding, both pilots had lost their ability to act due to diarrhea and were locked in the restroom?

Innocent Bourbon-chan was merely a poor little thing forced to take charge in a crisis.

As Vermouth's dear Lance.

As the Boss's deeply trusted Bourbon-chan.

He definitely hadn't tried to play a prank on them because of Furuya Rei's influence.

Absolutely not!

Furuya Rei raised his hand to scratch his cheek awkwardly, offering an apologetic and bashful smile.

"Ah? Was it because of me?" Furuya Rei blinked, looking bewildered and innocent.

Meeting those grey-blue eyes flashing with sincerity, Vermouth swallowed back the words 'what do you think?'

Suppressing her conscience, Vermouth walked down from the cabin door, ignoring Stilo who was still squatting nearby and almost throwing up his stomach, and showed Furuya Rei her gentlest side: "It has nothing to do with Bourbon. It's probably because I've been lacking exercise lately."

As for the Boss's vessel, Vermouth's gaze drifted to Stilo. This vessel didn't have a combat-oriented setup, which Lance knew, so she trusted he would understand.

Yes, indeed.

Lance's driving was merely a bit intense; other than that, no issues had occurred.

Rather, to be able to operate a vehicle so skillfully under such extreme conditions, Lance was incredibly impressive.

The smile on Vermouth's face grew increasingly genuine, as if she had successfully brainwashed herself.

By the time Gin arrived at the private airfield—having rushed over after receiving the transmission from the plane while it was still en route—this was the scene that greeted him.

Vermouth was smiling warmly at Bourbon.

Bourbon looked bashful and timid.

Meanwhile, Stilo, the Boss's vessel—who was no different from the Boss himself in the eyes of those in the know—was squatting alone on the ground, with no one paying him any attention.

Incredibly pitiful.

Gin calmly took a drag of his cigarette, trying to compose himself.

Though he currently wanted nothing more than to turn back—to before he entered this private airfield.

To enter again and confirm if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

You two standing over there chatting, do you still remember your identities?

As subordinates, is this how you cast your superior aside to do your own thing?

And you, Boss, where is your elegance? Shouldn't a noble British gentleman always mind his actions and maintain etiquette and grace?

Gin took another deep drag of his cigarette. Calm down.

Yes, he was as calm as could be.

Stilo stood up, leaning on his cane.

He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the stain from the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, Bourbon, Vermouth, stop whispering over there. Gin has arrived."

His calm demeanor made it seem as though the person squatting on the ground just now wasn't him, and the pixelated, unidentifiable pile on the ground wasn't his doing.

His skin... was unimaginably thick.

As expected of that gentleman of the organization.

Furuya Rei ended his conversation with Vermouth, turning to look at the slowly approaching Stilo, his face still wearing an innocent smile.

"My apologies, Boss," Bourbon's apologetic tone was filled with grievance.

Stilo remained calm, putting the handkerchief back into his pocket. "It's fine, Bourbon. I can understand a child's excitement upon receiving a new toy."

You really don't care about what happened earlier at all, do you?

For once, Vermouth, Bourbon, and Gin shared the exact same thought.

Gin finally couldn't watch any longer, stubbing out his cigarette and tossing it aside before walking toward the three.

"Boss, the backup base has been prepared. Please head there immediately." He hoped this Boss's vessel, who lacked any self-awareness, would behave himself after returning, and please act a bit more like the Boss's vessel.

Dumping him at the base would rid him of a massive headache.

Gin thought expressionlessly.

Although working on missions with Lance was enjoyable, he really didn't want to stay with the Boss for too long.

Vermouth brushed her hair and smiled.

There was only this one Boss's vessel left. Next would be finding where Karasuma Renya's actual body was located and dealing with it.

Bourbon tilted his head, 'respectfully' stepping forward to support Stilo.

"Boss, let's head to the base first."