Three minutes earlier, Rei, dressed in a bartender's uniform, was carrying a tray into the VIP room where Kurokawa was.
The atmosphere inside was lively. Electronic, hazy music blasted from the speakers, and in front of the LCD screen, several men and women twisted their waists wildly. Multicolored neon lights flickered across their faces, bright one moment and dim the next.
This kind of setting suited him perfectly. Taking advantage of the lack of attention, Rei slipped a capsule into every glass of cocktail, ensuring that Kurokawa would definitely drink something laced with peanut powder.
In the noisy environment, people had to raise their voices to talk. One of Kurokawa's underlings sitting beside him shouted at the top of his lungs, "Hey! You, the blond bartender over there, yeah, you! Bring the drinks!"
Rei walked over at an unhurried pace. He placed several identical Paradise cocktails on the black marble table and gave a harmless smile. "Paradise. Please enjoy."
"Paradise" was a cocktail made with dry gin, apricot brandy, and orange juice.
Its meaning wasn't bad either. Once Kurokawa drank it, it would send him to paradise heaven itself.
"Bourbon, how's it going on your side? Everything's stable here so far."
Ritsu's voice came through the earpiece. Without drawing attention, Rei set down the tray and slowly moved toward the door, adjusting his slightly tight bow tie with one hand while subtly tapping the small microphone hidden behind it.
"Heh, got it."
Once he was sure Ritsu understood his message, Rei noticed Kurokawa starting to cough. The allergic reaction had begun, which meant it was no longer safe for him to remain inside the room.
Tucking the tray under his arm, he headed for the door. Before leaving, he glanced at Kurokawa, who was still drinking the spiked cocktail and the curve of his lips deepened.
'Welcome to paradise. For someone like you, avoiding hell is already the best possible outcome.'
After heading downstairs, Rei noticed two people sitting at the bar. Interestingly, both had ordered milk with ice, completely out of place in a bar like this.
Akai lit a cigarette. It wasn't that he didn't want alcohol but the person beside him, who couldn't handle his liquor, had made the decision for him. If he couldn't drink, at least he could smoke.
Ritsu glanced at the bartender setting down the tray and looked him up and down. The more he looked, the more he felt that outfit suited him.
"Mr. Bartender, slacking off here?"
Hearing the teasing tone, Rei shot him a half-lidded glare but said nothing. Instead, he tilted his chin toward the front door, signaling them to withdraw.
Fair enough. Everything that needed to be done had been done. There was no point staying; it was better to find a suitable place to confirm the target's death.
Ritsu hadn't touched the milk. Ever since joining the organization, he had grown increasingly reluctant to eat or drink outside.
Simply put, he didn't want to leave behind fingerprints or DNA. He also understood why Gin and Vodka preferred convenience stores. Quick and practical and they could easily dispose of any trash themselves.
"Keep the change."
Sliding the money forward, Ritsu picked up his violin case and headed for the front exit. As he passed the staircase, even the jazz music couldn't mask the hurried footsteps and panicked shouting upstairs. It seemed the target was already suffering severe symptoms like acute laryngeal edema.
Amid the chaos, the three of them walked out through the front door without suspicion. Reaching an alley with no surveillance cameras nearby, Ritsu, who hadn't driven, got into Akai's Chevrolet C-1500.
After fastening his seatbelt, Akai turned his head toward Ritsu and asked, "Where to now?"
Whenever he went on missions with Ritsu, Akai barely needed to think. Someone else would craft a flawless plan, letting him coast to victory. If he could slack off, he would, that was his principle in the organization.
Having already memorized Tokyo's streets, Ritsu replied calmly, "Head to the intersection at 3-7-chome. It's the fastest route to Beika University Hospital. Based on the timing of the poison, it should take effect there."
"Got it."
"I've got a new assignment, so I'll be taking my leave," Rei said. Despite being in intelligence, he was constantly busy. The organization really liked working capable people to the bone.
"Alright, go ahead."
In about two and a half minutes, they arrived at the intersection at 3-7-chome in Beika Town. Parking by the roadside with hazard lights on, Akai got out and pretended to check for a malfunction, while Ritsu observed from inside the car.
Sure enough, a flashy white Lexus LFA roared around the corner. When it hit the red light, it had no choice but to stop. The one in the driver's seat was the same underling who had called for the drinks earlier. Gone was his previous arrogance, replaced by panic and confusion.
"Ugh!!"
Kurokawa, sitting in the passenger seat and already in discomfort, suddenly widened his eyes. He clutched his throat in agony, his legs stiffening forward, while white foam began to seep from his mouth. In less than fifteen seconds, his heart stopped.
"Boss? Boss!!" The underling frantically reached out to check his breathing. Realizing there were no signs of life, cold sweat broke out all over him. What was he supposed to do now? The boss had died in the car, right beside him… there was no way he could explain this.
Having witnessed everything, Ritsu withdrew his gaze. "Rye, target confirmed dead. Take me to the base in Nishitama City."
Akai got back into the car and raised an eyebrow. "Going to update your sniping record again? Keeping up with you is exhausting."
"In stationary sniping, we're about the same. You just fall slightly short when it comes to moving targets."
"A difference of a hundred yards counts as 'about the same' to you?" Akai paused while pulling out a cigarette, then decided against it. Smiling faintly, he added, "Trying to motivate me in your own way?"
"Don't pick up Gin's paranoia. That's not what I meant."
"Heh. Your violin playing is pretty good. I don't usually see you perform, quite the virtuoso."
The sudden shift in topic made Ritsu curl his lips in self-mockery. "Have you ever seen a violinist who pulls the trigger more often than he holds a bow?"
"You're better than Sherlock Holmes at the violin."
"That doesn't sound like a compliment."
Rubbing the ring on his index finger with his thumb, his expression turned indifferent. "Comparing me, a criminal, to Holmes. Doesn't seem appropriate."
"Do you want to become the Napoleon of the criminal world, like James Moriarty?"
"Being at the top is exhausting. I don't want to be anyone, I just want to be myself."
His eyes were filled with mockery. He truly didn't want to keep playing roles like Nanase Tōru or Macallan.
If he could, he wanted to return to being himself.
Back to that day four years ago, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, when Ritsu still lived a peaceful life, not this existence of walking on the edge of a blade.