Vermouth, carrying the secret mission bestowed by Kanjuro, blended silently back into the vast shadows of the Black Organization like a perfectly reprogrammed tool. Her return might cause some ripples, but with her abilities and status, coupled with the protection of Renya Karasuma (That Person), it was enough for her to regain her footing and begin funneling intelligence to her new master.
Inside the hotel suite, only Kanjuro, Akemi Miyano, and Ai Haibara remained.
A subtle aura of last night's shift in power and twisted will still lingered in the air. Ai Haibara sat on the edge of the bed, her ice-blue eyes no longer entirely hollow or resistant, but instead woven with a complex dependence and unextinguished embers. She looked up at Kanjuro, who was standing by the window, her voice carrying a trace of imperceptible pleading:
"Kanjuro... Father." This address was still somewhat difficult for her, but it was much smoother than before. "Rum may be dead, but the Organization remains... There are still many who once coerced and harmed Mother and us... I..." Her hands tightened slightly; the flames of revenge had not been completely extinguished by the death of Rum.
Kanjuro slowly turned around, the morning light outlining a deep silhouette behind him. He walked over to Ai Haibara and looked down at her, his gaze calm and rippleless.
"Hatred is the fuel that drives power, but blind revenge will only make you lose your way," Kanjuro's voice was low and full of control. "Vermouth is now one of us. She is lurking at the core of the Organization, like a nail driven beside Renya Karasuma's pillow. Through her, we can see the internal movements of the Organization more clearly and obtain more clues about your mother's whereabouts."
He reached out and gently lifted Ai Haibara's chin, forcing her to look into his eyes:
"The priority now isn't to continue aimlessly venting hatred, but to find your mother—Miyano Elena. She is the starting point of all this and the key to unraveling many mysteries. Don't you want to know how she escaped Rum's encirclement back then? Is she alive or dead? If she is alive, where is she?"
These words accurately struck the deepest longing within Ai Haibara's heart. The search for her mother's whereabouts had always been the more primal obsession hidden beneath her hatred.
Ai Haibara's eyes turned slightly red, and she nodded vigorously, her voice choking up: "I want to... of course I want to know where Mom is..."
Akemi Miyano also stepped forward, gently hugging her sister's shoulders, and said to Kanjuro, "Father is right. Finding Mom is the most important thing. We will follow all your arrangements."
Kanjuro looked at the sisters who had finally prioritized finding their mother over simple revenge and nodded slightly with satisfaction. He needed them to maintain a certain "drive," but this drive had to be under his guidance and control.
"So, how to investigate?" Kanjuro let go and paced to the center of the room, his eyes flashing with a rational light, like a hunter analyzing the tracks of prey. "Rum mentioned that Miyano Elena and Koji Miyano were FBI moles. In that case, the greatest possibility for her being able to foresee the danger and escape successfully back then is that the FBI utilized a higher-level emergency evacuation channel unknown to us."
His logic was clear and cold:
"Therefore, to find clues about Miyano Elena, or even to find her herself, our most direct and effective breakthrough now is to start with the FBI."
"Find the FBI personnel who might be related to the events of that year and pry the answers we want out of them."
"Start with the FBI?" Akemi Miyano was somewhat worried. "The FBI are no pushovers either, and their activities in Japan have always been secretive..."
Ai Haibara also looked up, a hint of doubt in her eyes. Confronting the FBI directly undoubtedly carried immense risk.
The corner of Kanjuro's mouth curled into a mocking arc, showing his disdain for so-called "official forces":
"Secretive? Hard to deal with?" He chuckled. "In the face of absolute power, any organization or rule is nothing more than a facade."
"Vermouth will provide us with clues and a list of FBI personnel who might be related to the events of that year from within the Organization. And we..."
Kanjuro's gaze swept over the two sisters with an unquestionable confidence.
"We just need to lock onto the targets and then... make them 'voluntarily' open their mouths."
His words contained an indisputable power and a certain dark undertone. This so-called "voluntarily" was clearly not going to involve conventional questioning.
Looking at Kanjuro's expression of total control, the original doubt in Ai Haibara's heart was gradually replaced by a twisted sense of security. Indeed, with this "father" who didn't even care about the Organization or the state machinery, what did the FBI matter? As long as she could find her mother... "I understand, Father," Ai Haibara whispered, her tone gaining a measure of resolve. "We will cooperate with you fully."
Akemi Miyano also nodded vigorously: "We will follow all of Father's instructions."
Kanjuro looked at the sisters who had once again been guided in the direction he set, a flash of pleasure in his eyes. Finding Miyano Elena was not just to fulfill his daughters' wishes, but also to satisfy his own curiosity, and... perhaps to discover even more interesting "toys" or secrets.
He took out his phone; on the screen was an encrypted message just sent by Vermouth, which had been preliminarily screened. It listed several names of FBI agents known to be active in Japan or who had records related to the Miyano couple's undercover case years ago, along with some vague intelligence.
Kanjuro's gaze lingered on several of the names for a moment, his fingertips lightly tapping the screen.
"Well then, the game of hunting the FBI..."
He looked up at the bright sky that seemed to be covered by a layer of shadow.
"...starts now."
"Let's see what kind of interesting expressions these so-called elites will make when their fortress of 'justice' is torn open."
A new journey had been charted: the target was the FBI, and the purpose was to track down Miyano Elena. And Kanjuro, this dark master walking the earth, would once again extend his tentacles to stir the deep waters of another massive organization. The Miyano Sisters followed closely behind, both as his kin and as extensions of his dark will, embarking together on this journey where the search for their mother intertwined with a path of conquest.
The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, which should have been a symbol of law and order, was currently shrouded in an invisible, suffocating low-pressure atmosphere. Many officers kept their heads down, hurrying past, not daring to meet their colleagues' eyes, and even less daring to discuss the name that made them all feel humiliated yet powerless to resist—Kanjuro.
The reason was none other than the dedicated Officer Megure Jūzō of the Criminal Investigation Department's First Investigation Division; his wife, Megure Midori, had now openly become one of Kanjuro's women. This was no romantic love story, but blatant plunder and submission. To save his and his wife's lives under Kanjuro's shadow, Inspector Megure had made the most painful choice, one that betrayed his dignity. The matter had already spread quietly within the department, and Inspector Megure endured the strange looks and silent contempt from all sides, but he could only grit his teeth and bear it, continuing to work like a walking corpse because he had to survive.
And today, the source of all that humiliation and fear had actually arrived in person.
Kanjuro's figure appeared directly in the lobby of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, walking as if he were taking a leisurely stroll. He didn't hide his tracks or have any qualms; he simply walked in openly. His peerlessly handsome appearance was out of place in this serious environment, but the palpable dark pressure radiating from him caused the noisy lobby to fall instantly silent.
All officers, whether administrative or detectives, were frozen in place like they were under a binding spell, staring in horror at this man who seemed like a demon god. Some hot-blooded young officers instinctively wanted to step forward to stop or question him, but upon meeting Kanjuro's eyes, which were as deep as an abyss, all their courage instantly collapsed, leaving only instinctive trembling.
Kanjuro's gaze didn't even linger on these "ants" as he walked straight toward the First Investigation Division office. Wherever he went, the crowd automatically parted like the Red Sea, with no one daring to block his way.
Soon, he arrived at Inspector Megure's desk.
Megure Jūzō was sitting there, head in his hands, his back appearing exceptionally hunched and old. Hearing the footsteps, he slowly looked up. When he saw Kanjuro standing before him, his round face instantly turned as pale as paper, his lips trembled, and his eyes were filled with extreme fear and... a trace of numb resignation.
"Mr... Mr. Kanjuro..." Inspector Megure's voice was dry and raspy, barely forming words.
Kanjuro looked down at him from above, his face devoid of any expression, as if he were looking at a belonging that had lost all its interest. Without any pleasantries or formalities, he went straight to the point, speaking in a clear and calm voice that was loud enough for the entire First Investigation Division office to hear:
"Inspector Megure, I need all internal files on FBI personnel active in Japan, especially any records and personnel lists involving old cases from about eighteen to twenty years ago that might be related to the couple codenamed 'Miyano'."
His request was like a thunderclap, exploding in the office where a pin drop could be heard!
Internal FBI records?! This was a top-level international cooperation secret! And it involved a cold case from nearly twenty years ago? This was a blatant trampling of the law and international rules!
All the officers eavesdropping showed expressions of disbelief and anger, but no one dared to speak up. Their gazes were all focused on Inspector Megure, wanting to see how this once-respected superior would respond.
Inspector Megure's body trembled violently. He naturally knew what this request meant! It was a betrayal of his professional ethics, a betrayal of the justice he once protected, and it could even trigger a serious diplomatic dispute! But... his mind flashed to the face of his wife, Megure Midori, which bore tear stains yet had to force a smile, and to Kanjuro's terrifying power that could turn people to ash in an instant... Refuse? And then what? Watch Midori die? Watch the entire Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department potentially suffer a devastating blow?
...
A massive wave of fear and powerlessness submerged him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but could not make a sound. Fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his hands were clenched tightly, nails digging deep into his palms.
Kanjuro didn't rush him, simply watching him struggle, his gaze like a cat playing with a mouse.
The air in the entire office seemed to freeze, every second feeling as long as a century. Everyone watched Inspector Megure, seeing the struggle, pain, and humiliation on his face finally turn into a deathly gray despair.
Finally, under countless gazes that were either angry, disdainful, sympathetic, or fearful, Megure Jūzō seemed to have all his strength drained away. In a slumped state and with a voice that was almost inaudible, he said to the similarly terrified records manager nearby:
"Go... get... the FBI shared... and our internal archive... related... data... out... for... for Mr. Kanjuro..."
After saying this, he seemed to age ten years in an instant, collapsing into his chair and closing his eyes, not daring to look at anyone else.
"Inspector Megure! You can't!" a young, hot-blooded officer couldn't help but shout, but he was immediately dragged away by colleagues who covered his mouth.
The records manager's face was pale. He looked at the slumped Megure, then at the death-god-like Kanjuro, and finally succumbed to the pervasive fear, trembling as he walked toward the classified archives room.
Kanjuro's mouth finally curved into a faint, satisfied smile. He didn't even glance at Inspector Megure again, as if the other man's submission was completely natural.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, inside the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department—the core symbol of national law enforcement—Kanjuro relied on his absolute terror to force a senior officer to openly betray his principles and hand over top-secret information without shedding a drop of blood.
Soon, a thick stack of encrypted files was handed over to Kanjuro with trembling hands.
Kanjuro took them casually, as if they were just a bunch of unimportant newspapers. He didn't even check them on the spot, simply holding them in his hand before turning around. Under the gaze of countless complex eyes, he left the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department as composedly as he had arrived.
Long after he left, the First Investigation Division office remained deathly silent. Only Inspector Megure Jūzō was left slumped in his chair like a shell hollowed of its soul, surrounded by the silent, mixed gazes of his colleagues—anger, sorrow, and deep helplessness.
Kanjuro's shadow no longer just loomed over individuals; it was like a plague, eroding the order and boundaries of the entire society. And he, holding the "key" he had just obtained, was preparing to start the next stage of his journey toward the truth (or rather, toward deeper darkness). The secrets of the FBI and the whereabouts of Miyano Elena seemed to be right before his eyes.
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