"You…you…" Vodka's face turned purple, and the hand holding his pistol trembled. "Aniki, why don't we just shoot him?!"
Compared to Gin and Vodka's shock, Park In-yong's eyes widened in disbelief, staring intently at Gin's silver hair and his sharp, masculine face.
"No…impossible! How can you be a man?!" Park In-yong's voice changed pitch in fright, as if he had seen a ghost.
He had only seen Gin and Vodka's backs earlier, and had presumptuously assumed Gin was a silver-haired beauty, and Vodka was Gin's boyfriend.
Now, upon seeing Gin's face, Park In-yong completely lost it, his face turning crimson.
"Ah, shibal, you deceived my feelings!"
How could a man wear this kind of underwear?!
Park In-yong looked at the lace panties in his hand and, with an angry flail of wild punches, charged at Gin.
Vodka, already seething with rage, kicked out, and Park In-yong immediately fell to the ground, unable to get up.
"Ah, shibal! What do you want to do?!" Park In-yong, kicked to the ground by Vodka, clutched his stomach and stared in terror at the two men in black approaching him.
Only then did he notice the guns in Gin and Vodka's hands, and fear began to set in.
"Aniki, keeping a pervert like this will only make rice more expensive, why not just shoot him?" Vodka suggested again.
Gin looked at Park In-yong's pants, which were dripping with water, and frowned.
"Vodka." He slightly lowered his gun, pointing it at Park In-yong. "You, go and strip him!"
"Huh? Big Brother?!" Vodka was stunned, thinking he had misheard; his sunglasses almost fell off. He stammered, "Is…is that really appropriate? I'm not interested in men!"
"What are you talking about! Just do as I say!" Gin's tone was firm.
Vodka looked like he was about to cry, glancing at Park In-yong struggling on the ground, then at Gin.
Finally, he gritted his teeth and, with a fierce resolve, pounced on Park In-yong, beginning to strip his clothes off.
Park In-yong was scared out of his wits, desperately covering his flashy suit with both hands, screaming, "Yamete! No! Don't come closer! You perverts! Beasts! Help me—!"
He kicked his legs frantically, as if about to suffer some unspeakable violation.
Conan and Hattori Heiji, hiding in the closet, both felt a tightening sensation, the Black Organization was too brutal! This was even worse than being shot dead.
"No! Don't come closer! Ah—! My clothes! My limited-edition suit! Ah, shibal—!"
Park In-yong's struggles were useless against Vodka, he was soon stripped down to only a similarly flashy mink thong, shivering on the cold floor.
After stripping Park In-yong's clothes, Vodka began to take off his own clothes.
He had just revealed his large stomach. Gin, seeing that things were going awry, immediately stopped him.
"Idiot! Who told you to do that! Take pictures! Take his pictures and threaten him to hand over the car!" Gin's face was as black as a pot, and he roared, suppressing the urge to pull the trigger.
Vodka then realized, so that's what he meant! He let out a long sigh of relief, quickly covered his large stomach, and with a sinister grin, pulled out his phone. He took several high-definition close-ups of the naked Park In-yong with a series of "click-clack, click-clack" from various angles.
Gin then turned his gaze back to Park In-yong, poking the gun directly at his nose, threatening, "Young Master Park, I imagine you wouldn't want these exciting photos to appear on the front pages of major gossip media in Korea, or even internationally, tomorrow, would you? Your family, your reputation…"
Park In-yong looked at the unspeakable photos of himself on Vodka's phone screen, his face turning green. "I agree! I agree to everything! Please delete the photos! Give me back my clothes! Make him stay away from me!" He pointed at Vodka, his voice choked with tears.
"Very good." Gin put away his gun with satisfaction. "The porsche 356a car key, garage access, now."
To protect his integrity and reputation, Park In-yong no longer dared to play tricks and obediently handed everything over.
With Park In-yong's command and the keys, Gin and Vodka easily entered his exclusive garage right in front of his bodyguards.
Looking at the elegantly lined porsche 356a in the garage, a rare expression of pleasure appeared on Gin's cold face.
He caressed the smooth body of the car, as if he had found a long-lost old friend.
However, this pleasure vanished without a trace the moment he opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat.
A strange smell, a mixture of perfume and body odor, assailed him, extremely strong and pungent.
The passenger seat, the back seat, and even the dashboard of the car were strewn with a large number of colorful, various styles of women's panties and stockings.
Gin felt completely unwell, experiencing a suffocating sensation and a churning in his stomach.
"Vodka!" He suppressed the urge to vomit and ordered, "After we return to base, find someone to clean and disinfect this car from the inside out, one hundred times! No! Two hundred times! Not a single loose thread is allowed to remain!"
"Yes, Aniki! I guarantee it will be sparkling clean!" Vodka, seeing his Big Brother's livid face, quickly patted his chest in assurance, he himself felt that the smell in the car was indeed a bit overwhelming.
After spending a long time throwing out the clutter in the car, Gin took a deep breath, then coughed violently.
It wasn't until Vodka started the engine and the vintage car roared that the familiar feeling made him feel a little better.
"Aniki, shall I drive you around nearby first to get a feel for it?" Vodka suggested.
Gin nodded. The car definitely needed ventilation now, and all the windows had to be open to air it out properly.
And so, Vodka drove, carrying Gin away from the beachfront hotel area, along the coastal road.
The cool sea breeze blowing into the car finally made the smell inside a bit better.
After a few turns, dusk began to fall.
As Vodka drove the car back near the beachfront hotel, preparing to find a way to return, Gin suddenly spotted a familiar short, reddish-brown haired figure.
Sherry?! Gin's pupils constricted, his heart boiling with murderous intent.
It was truly a case of finding what one sought without effort, after searching far and wide.
"Stop the car!" Gin commanded in a low voice.
Vodka immediately pulled the car to a steady stop in the shadows by the roadside.
"Give me the Sniper rifle!" Gin reached out his hand.
Vodka quickly grabbed a briefcase from the back seat, opened it, assembled a sniper rifle with a suppressor, and handed it to Gin.
Gin lowered the car window and smoothly rested the gun on the window sill.
He aimed the crosshairs of the scope at the reddish-brown haired figure.
After calculating parameters such as distance, wind speed, and humidity in his mind, he thought, now is the time!
A smirk appeared on Gin's lips, and his finger steadily pulled the trigger.
Pfft! The suppressed gunshot was muffled, and the deadly bullet flew straight towards the target!