Chapter 406: Drawing Lots
Gin did not continue to press Glenlivet on whether he had obtained tears of immortality from his mother. It was all merely speculation. Since the Organization could not move against Glenlivet for the time being, knowing the exact answer was entirely meaningless.
The others in the room had heard Gin's final question. They could not help but observe Glenlivet out of the corners of their eyes, silently scrutinizing his features. They tried to discern if his physical age truly matched his appearance, or if he was some ancient monster who had walked the earth for hundreds of years, older than everyone present combined.
After the immediate tasks were assigned, the tense atmosphere broke. Several members turned and left the dimly lit base one after another.
Upon leaving the facility, Bourbon happened to cross paths with Kir in the narrow corridor.
He paused, his footsteps halting against the concrete floor. He called out to her, his voice dropping into a low, eerie register. "Kir, do you think Rye is really dead?"
"Of course." Kir stopped and looked back at him, her expression a mask of absolute calm. "I did it myself, so naturally, I can be certain he is dead. Besides, the whole process was captured on the surveillance video. Bourbon, you should have seen it too, shouldn't you?"
Bourbon focused his sharp gaze on her face, carefully observing every micro-expression. He found absolutely no flaws in her demeanor. If he had not already confirmed through his own channels that Rye had faked his death, he might have actually been fooled by her flawless performance. This interaction only made him increasingly certain of Kir's true identity as an undercover agent.
"I have seen it," Bourbon replied, a faint, unreadable smile touching his lips. "But as long as I haven't seen Rye's actual body, I will remain skeptical about his so-called death."
Kir's brow furrowed slightly, projecting a carefully measured amount of dissatisfaction. "You mean, as long as you haven't seen Rye's body, you will keep doubting me? If you want to see the corpse, it is simple enough. Just ask Vermouth to help you with a disguise and sneak into the hospital morgue to see it for yourself."
"No, that cannot be considered Rye's body." Bourbon shook his head, his smile widening just a fraction. "That is just a nameless male corpse that appeared in an exploded vehicle on Raiha Pass, burnt completely beyond recognition. All the evidence proving that corpse is Rye is entirely indirect, so I am reserving my opinion."
Before Kir could formulate a response, Bourbon smoothly shifted the subject. "By the way, Kir, I heard you originally caught Gin's attention because you managed to catch an undercover agent. What was his name again? Oh, I remember now. It was Ethan Hondou, right?"
Hearing her father's name dropped so suddenly, Kir's breath hitched for a fraction of a second. She forced her muscles to relax immediately, masking the shock with a look of deep displeasure. "Why bring up something from so long ago? Bourbon, you don't suspect that was fake too, do you? In that incident, the undercover agent's body was left right at the scene, and his face was completely intact. That could not possibly have been faked."
When she forced the word 'body' past her lips, her voice strained ever so slightly. Outwardly, however, she remained unmoved, merely appearing a bit impatient with his relentless probing.
"It is nothing. I am just a little curious about which organization actually sent that Ethan Hondou." Bourbon waved his hand dismissively, his tone dripping with contempt. "I just want to know which intelligence agency sends such incompetent undercover agents. To be killed by someone who was physically restrained and injected with a truth serum... tsk." His absolute disdain hung heavily in the air. "The FBI? MI6? Or the CIA?"
Bourbon keenly noticed the microscopic shift. When he mentioned the CIA, Kir's lips pursed slightly, and her fingers curled inward, clenching for a brief, fleeting moment.
It seemed that the agency Kir truly belonged to was indeed the CIA.
The young boy who had been asking about Mizunashi Rena at Haido Central Hospital had not mistaken her either. Kir was undoubtedly that boy's older sister, Hidemi Hondou. As for the supposed blood type mismatch that had thrown others off the trail, that was a trivial matter. There were plenty of medical methods to temporarily alter or mask one's blood type.
Kir did not realize that her subtle, instinctual reaction had been completely cataloged by Bourbon. "It doesn't matter which one it is, does it? They are all enemies of the Organization anyway."
Having extracted the exact confirmation he wanted, Bourbon had no intention of dragging the conversation out. He offered a casual goodbye. "You have a point. I won't chat any longer. I have a mission to attend to, so I will be going now."
He turned and walked away, leaving Kir standing in the corridor. She stared at his retreating back in deep confusion, her mind racing to understand why he had suddenly approached her just to say all that. Was it merely to needle her, or did he know something more?
Two days later, at the foot of Mount Sanka, where the majestic Grand Narukami Shrine was located.
A middle-aged man and woman were slowly making their way up the winding mountain path. They were dressed in simple, neat clothing, walking hand in hand with gentle, relaxed smiles on their faces. Judging from their intimate behavior and comfortable silence, they were clearly a loving married couple.
This couple had recently heard from a close friend that drawing lots at a specific shrine on a mountain in Osaka was exceptionally effective. Desperate for a miracle, they had traveled specifically from out of town to seek an answer for the painful struggle of childlessness that had troubled their marriage for years.
The two supported each other as they slowly handled the stone steps toward the shrine at the peak. The wife leaned close to her husband, whispering intimately into his ear.
"The road to the Grand Narukami Shrine is quite difficult to walk. No wonder we haven't run into many people along the way."
"Yeah, this shrine isn't very famous yet. I heard most of the people who come up here are just from the local neighborhood."
"But they say the lots drawn at the Grand Narukami Shrine are incredibly accurate. I wonder if it is true." The wife offered a gentle, hopeful smile and looked up at her husband. "Honey, we must sincerely draw a lot for our future child."
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