Chapter 343: The Life-Risking Broadcast of Love 3
"Glenlivet." Bourbon's expression darkened instantly. The mere mention of Scotch stripped away his usual easygoing facade, leaving behind a chilling, dangerous stillness. He spat the codename like a curse, his eyes narrowing into icy slits. His jaw locked tightly before he forced his lips into a thin, merciless line.
"What kind of garbage are you spouting?" Bourbon's voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "That rat, Shuichi Akai. I despised his arrogant, detestable personality back when he was still playing at being Rye. And then he had the nerve to betray the Organization. Such treacherous behavior is completely unforgivable." He let out a cold, mocking scoff. "For someone like him, I want nothing more than to personally ensure he ends up six feet under."
"Is that so? Then it seems I was mistaken." Glenlivet offered a casual shrug, accepting the vehement explanation with an effortless wave of the hand.
A faint crease formed between Bourbon's brows. The fact that Glenlivet dropped the subject so quickly sent a ripple of unease through his chest. Did this mysterious new operative suspect his true identity as an undercover agent?
"Let us make a small deal, then." Glenlivet pivoted the conversation with a smooth, sly smile. "Give me a list of all of Rum's subordinates that you currently know. No need for exhaustive details, just the codenames will suffice. In exchange, I will tell you a rather fascinating secret about Cointreau. How does that sound?"
Bourbon narrowed his eyes, studying the person standing before him. What kind of use could Glenlivet possibly hold over someone like Cointreau? Was this person truly just a recent addition to the Organization's ranks? The depth of their intelligence network seemed entirely disproportionate for a newcomer.
A cold knot tightened in Bourbon's stomach. If Glenlivet possessed classified secrets regarding Cointreau, did that mean his own heavily guarded past was also exposed?
Despite the internal alarm bells, the proposed trade held far too much value to pass up. Bourbon feigned a moment of reluctant hesitation, tapping his fingers against his side as if weighing the risks, before finally giving a curt nod of agreement.
A few taps on a secured device later, the transaction was complete. Upon receiving the encrypted list of Rum's faction, Glenlivet honored the agreement without delay. "As you are likely aware, Cointreau is currently operating under the civilian disguise of Morikawa Shiro. What you might not know is that this Morikawa persona made his very first public appearance during the Twilight Mansion incident."
Bourbon lowered his gaze, his mind racing to process the information. The Twilight Mansion. The name rang a distant bell in his memory. A sprawling estate constructed entirely of solid gold was not something easily forgotten. Yet, strangely enough, such a sensational discovery had been aggressively suppressed by the media. The lack of widespread reporting practically screamed of a massive cover-up.
A sudden realization struck him. Kogoro Mouri had been directly involved in that very case. It seemed that alongside his own independent digging, a casual visit to the Mouri Detective Agency might yield some highly lucrative clues.
"Our transaction is complete. Next time..." Glenlivet turned, preparing to vanish into the shadows of the alleyway. Before the sentence could be finished, a sharp vibration interrupted the silence. Glenlivet pulled out a sleek terminal, glancing at the glowing screen. A look of genuine, intrigued amusement washed over their features.
"Bourbon," Glenlivet drawled, not looking up from the screen. "You just left the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, did you not?"
"So what if I did?" Bourbon shot back, keeping his tone defensive and slightly mocking to mask his sudden spike in adrenaline. "You are not going to try and claim I am some sort of undercover rat who went to the police headquarters to exchange intelligence, are you?"
"Senior Bourbon, please do not be so sensitive. I harbored no such thoughts," Glenlivet replied, a teasing lilt in the words. "I merely wanted to share a rather amusing coincidence. Not long after you departed the headquarters, a certain police officer found himself in a bit of trouble. It appears he was kidnapped right off the streets. And the best part? Word has it the kidnapper is just some frail old man." Glenlivet let out a soft chuckle. "As expected, my previous assessment was entirely correct. The police these days are growing increasingly incompetent. To be snatched away so easily by a senior citizen is truly pathetic."
"To extract internal intelligence from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department so rapidly..." Bourbon forced a tight, impressed smirk. "You are quite resourceful, Glenlivet." Beneath the surface, Amuro fought to suppress his rising anger at the blatant mockery of his colleagues, forcing his analytical mind to focus entirely on how this operative possessed such terrifyingly fast information channels.
"I cannot help it. Who told those foolish officers to completely lack basic vigilance? One can uncover all sorts of fascinating details just by asking around the right corners." Without giving Amuro a single second to press for more details, Glenlivet offered a lazy, dismissive wave. "Forget it. I simply found the situation entertaining and decided to mention it in passing. The blunders of the police have nothing to do with us anyway. Farewell."
Amuro watched the figure disappear into the gloom. He had no way of knowing if Glenlivet truly brought up the kidnapping as a casual joke, or if it was a calculated test. Either way, a heavy sense of dread settled over him.
He slipped out of the alleyway, taking a convoluted route back to his designated safe house. Once inside, he immediately swept the perimeter, checking every corner and fixture for hidden listening devices. Satisfied that the room was secure, he retrieved a heavily encrypted burner phone from a hidden compartment and fired off a rapid text to Matsuda Jinpei, demanding an immediate update on the situation at headquarters.
Miles away, deep inside the chaotic offices of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Matsuda Jinpei felt his phone buzz. He glanced at the incoming message. A flicker of curiosity crossed his face regarding exactly how his undercover friend had caught wind of the crisis so quickly. Pushing the question aside for later, Matsuda rapidly organized the chaotic stream of incoming reports and typed out a concise summary for Amuro.
The entire department was currently in an uproar. The investigative team had just discovered that Wataru Takagi's sudden departure from the station was directly linked to a string of three separate suicide cases. Bizarrely, all three tragedies had occurred on the exact same day, exactly one year prior.
Thanks to Matsuda's sharp deductive skills, the task force had quickly zeroed in on one specific case among the three. The victim was an English teacher named Natalie Kuruma. The official record stated she had taken her own life after supposedly being cruelly abandoned by her boyfriend.
The tragic reality, however, was far more complicated. Natalie had been the devoted fiancée of Wataru Date—the very same senior officer who had taken a green, inexperienced Takagi under his wing and guided him through his early days on the force.
The pieces of the puzzle clicked together with horrifying clarity. Because Officer Takagi and Officer Date shared the exact same given name, Wataru, Matsuda strongly suspected a case of mistaken identity. The kidnapper likely believed that Takagi was the Wataru who had driven Natalie to despair, and that he had happily moved on with a new romantic partner. Driven by twisted grief, the culprit had snatched Takagi off the streets, intending to enact a brutal, misguided revenge against both him and Miwako Sato.
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