Chapter 402: Innocent Glenlivet
The heavy atmosphere in the dimly lit room seemed to freeze. Gin leveled a cold, murderous glare at Glenlivet. The latter merely leaned back in his chair, his expression a mask of pure, unbothered indifference.
"From now on," Gin's voice was a low, dangerous growl, "shut your mouth."
Glenlivet curled his lip, his eyes flashing with open disdain. "Fine by me. I didn't exactly want to waste my breath talking to a bunch of hypocrites with their own hidden agendas anyway."
Across the table, Vermouth crossed her legs. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, though she maintained her signature elegant poise.
Sitting quietly in the corner, Camus observed his colleagues. His gaze grew increasingly strange as he watched the exchange. He truly hadn't expected the elite, code-named executives of the organization to be so petty, specifically poking at each other's sore spots during a formal briefing. A quiet sigh escaped Camus's lips. They certainly lived up to their reputation as a ruthless underground syndicate. There was absolutely zero camaraderie here; everyone only knew how to kick a man when he was down.
Still, Camus had to admit, Gin's harsh approach was somewhat effective. With Glenlivet finally keeping his mouth shut, the chaotic room fell into a sudden, manageable silence.
Taking advantage of the quiet, Gin pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a sharp flick of his lighter. He exhaled a plume of gray smoke and summarized their gathered intelligence. "So, the original Kaitou Kid—Kuroba Toichi—highly likely faked his death all those years ago. His wife's background is equally suspicious, and the probability that the second-generation Kid is his son is extremely high."
Gin shifted his chilling gaze toward Vermouth, then to Bourbon. "You two will focus your attention on gathering intelligence in this specific area. I want to know exactly what other dirty secrets the Kuroba family is hiding, and I want it as soon as possible."
He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Also, as noisy and irritating as Glenlivet is, he wasn't wrong about one thing. Mystics... Heh." Gin let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "In the end, some things are only truly known to you people."
The silver-haired executive leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. "I don't care what methods you use to extract this information. But consider this a warning: don't try any of your little tricks. If I catch even a hint of your tail, I will deal with you personally. And I will make it hurt." His eyes locked onto the blond intelligence officer. "Especially you, Bourbon."
Bourbon immediately raised both hands in a casual, exaggerated gesture of surrender. A breezy smile played on his lips. "Gin, there's really no need to single me out like that," he complained smoothly. "Besides, nothing of value ever comes out of Glenlivet's mouth anyway. There is absolutely no reason to take his rambling seriously."
At that, Glenlivet shot a sharp, venomous glare at Bourbon. He let out a loud, aggressive 'tsk' that echoed in the quiet room. Yet, surprisingly, he didn't utter a single word in retaliation.
This unnatural restraint made even Vermouth cast a strange, sidelong glance at him. She then shifted her inquiring gaze back to Gin. Since when did Gin wield this much absolute authority? He told Glenlivet to shut up, and the man actually obeyed without a fight?
In truth, while Gin felt a fleeting sense of satisfaction at Glenlivet's sudden obedience, a cold sliver of doubt began to take root in his chest. His internal alarms rang, and he secretly heightened his vigilance. Something was off.
Vodka and Bourbon clearly noticed the bizarre abnormality in Glenlivet's behavior as well. Both men silently shifted a fraction of their attention toward the unusually quiet executive, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Camus didn't care much about the underlying tension. He hadn't interacted much with Glenlivet in the past and didn't know the man's chaotic personality well enough to spot the danger signs. Processing Gin's orders, Camus furrowed his brow. "If the objective is just to have Bourbon and Vermouth investigate the Kuroba family's intelligence, then calling the two of them would have been sufficient. Why drag the rest of us all the way out here?"
"Naturally, because there are other tasks for you," Gin replied coldly, tapping his cigarette ash into a tray. "The Boss has issued a direct order. He wants detailed, complete information regarding 'Pandora'—the legendary Stone of Destiny that the syndicate known as the 'Zoo' has been desperately hunting for. The gem that supposedly grants immortality."
The word hung heavily in the air. Gin continued, his tone all business. "The Boss wants to confirm whether this 'Pandora's' ability is genuine, or merely the delusional fantasy of a rival organization. If it is real, then we must acquire it before the Zoo does. At all costs. Cointreau, Camus, and Glenlivet. This matter falls to you three."
Cointreau remained silent, but his sharp gaze swept imperceptibly over Glenlivet. He noticed a very subtle, almost mocking smile playing on Glenlivet's lips. Without drawing attention to it, Cointreau simply nodded, accepting the assignment.
Gin was just about to dismiss the meeting when he caught that same strange, lingering smile on Glenlivet's face out of the corner of his eye. It grated on his nerves. He narrowed his eyes, his tone dropping to a dangerous, unfriendly pitch. "Glenlivet. Do you have something to say?"
"Ah!" Glenlivet's eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. He pointed a finger at himself, looking at Gin with an utterly 'well-behaved' expression. "I can speak now?" he asked, as if needing absolute confirmation.
"Of course!" Gin snapped, his brow twitching with impatient emphasis.
"Well, in that case, I suppose I do have something to say..." Glenlivet dragged out the words, his tone dripping with pure, unadulterated innocence. "I know exactly where Pandora is."
Dead silence.
Everyone in the room stared at Glenlivet in absolute shock. The man sat there blinking, acting as though he hadn't just casually dropped a massive, game-changing piece of intelligence.
Wait. No. Glenlivet was absolutely doing this on purpose. Shouldn't this kind of critical information be shared at the very beginning of the briefing?! Now that the tasks had already been divided and assigned, throwing this out meant all their previous strategic arrangements were completely wasted and had to be rebuilt from scratch.
Slowly, every pair of eyes in the room swiveled back to Gin.
Gin was truly Gin. His face contorted into a terrifying, murderous scowl for only a fraction of a second before he forcefully clamped down on his raging temper. Taking a slow, measured breath, he glared at the man sitting across from him.
"How do you know?" Gin demanded, his voice eerily calm. "Where is that gem right now?" Finally, unable to hold back entirely, he ground out through clenched teeth, "And why the hell didn't you say this from the very beginning?!"
Gin realized with a sickening jolt that if he hadn't noticed Glenlivet's weird reaction and explicitly asked, the bastard probably would have kept his mouth shut until the very end of the meeting—or worse, let them run around blindly for weeks.
"Hey, you were the one who explicitly told me to shut my mouth," Glenlivet said. He spread his hands wide, looking like the most innocent victim in the world. "Besides, no one asked me."
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