Chapter 91: Klee is Missing
Two days later, inside a high-end hotel suite.
"You mean the person in charge of your little organization is finally ready to show his face? After dealing exclusively with you and Irish all this time, I was beginning to think this 'Cointreau' of yours was just a ghost you made up to string me along."
Kaeya held his phone casually against his ear with one hand, while the other raised a crystal wine glass to his lips. He took a slow sip, his singular visible eye narrowing slightly.
Hmm. It doesn't taste anywhere near as good as a proper 'Death in the Afternoon.'
He let out a quiet, dramatic sigh. He had left in such a rush back then that he hadn't packed nearly enough of his favorite vintage. Now that his preferred wine was completely depleted, the situation was becoming rather distressing.
"Mr. Kaeya, you must be joking. How could we possibly play such a trick on a valued partner?"
On the other end of the line, Bourbon's voice carried a smooth, practiced smile. He didn't seem to mind the sharp thorns hidden in Kaeya's casual tone.
After a brief exchange to finalize the time and location for their next meeting, the call ended.
The moment the line went dead, the polite warmth vanished from Bourbon's face, leaving behind a cold, calculating stare.
Over the past period, it had strictly been him and Irish handling the communications and physical trades with Kaeya. Cointreau, their supposed superior for this operation, had never once appeared in person. Frankly, Irish was a far simpler man to manage than the sharp-tongued, perceptive Kaeya.
During these weeks of undercover work, Bourbon had managed to intermittently siphon off fragments of intel, even securing a few samples of the mysterious potions for the Public Security Bureau.
Yet, the actual gains were frustratingly minimal. According to the encrypted reports sent back by Kazami, the extracted information lacked critical context, rendering it practically useless. As for the potions? The PSB forensics lab had run every chemical analysis available, only to find absolutely no special or identifiable ingredients. It was a complete scientific anomaly as to why the liquids possessed such miraculous effects.
Bourbon didn't dare order his Public Security subordinates to tail Kaeya. The man with the eyepatch did not look simple in the slightest; one wrong move, and Kaeya would undoubtedly notice the surveillance, blowing Bourbon's cover entirely.
In short, his undercover progress had hit a brick wall.
Now, learning out of nowhere that Cointreau was finally stepping out of the shadows to meet Kaeya in person, Bourbon felt a knot of unease tighten in his chest. Recalling Kaeya's formidable skills and unpredictable operating style from their very first encounter, he had no idea what dangerous variables this new meeting might introduce.
The appointed day arrived quickly.
Kaeya pulled up to the designated coordinates right on the dot. He stepped out of his vehicle, his boots crunching against the gravel of an abandoned, rust-eaten factory.
"Tell me," Kaeya drawled, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous, dusty space. "Can't you people in the organization pick a slightly better venue for these little transactions? Aside from our very first meeting, every single location has been some remote, dilapidated wasteland. Do you have any idea how long the drive here took?"
Seeing the two familiar faces waiting for him amidst the rusted machinery, Kaeya couldn't help but voice his complaints.
He genuinely couldn't fathom where the Black Organization kept finding these desolate ruins. The round trip alone was eating up half his day. Worse yet, he was incredibly anxious about leaving Klee unsupervised for such an extended period. He was half-expecting to return to the hotel only to find his suite reduced to a smoking crater. He had no choice but to rotate babysitting duties, leaving the little girl in the collective care of Lisa, Mona, and the Traveler.
He paused, his gaze sweeping the shadows. "Why are there still only two of you? Didn't you say Cointreau was coming this time? Where is he?"
Irish, standing tall and imposing with a metal briefcase in hand, explained in a gruff voice, "Not many people wander out to places like this. It's secure. We don't want any unexpected interruptions during the exchange. As for Cointreau..."
"He just stepped out to sweep the perimeter," Bourbon interjected smoothly. "He should be back any second."
Right on cue, the distinct sound of footsteps echoed from the factory's rusted entrance.
Kaeya turned his head. As the figure stepped out of the blinding daylight and into the dim interior, a highly familiar face slowly came into focus.
Kaeya stared at 'Cointreau's' face for a long, silent moment. Then, his expression flattened into absolute deadpan, and he turned his head away with a loud, dismissive, "Tch."
When he had first learned from the Traveler that her missing brother also existed in this world, and then cross-referenced that with the sudden emergence of a high-ranking Black Organization member codenamed Cointreau—who had suspiciously avoided meeting him until now—Kaeya had already formed a working theory.
Still, without seeing the man in the flesh, it had only been an educated guess.
After all, Kaeya was well aware of the original plotline of this world. While the Black Organization was a massive transnational syndicate and obviously had more members than just Gin and a handful of codenamed executives, the abrupt appearance of someone with Cointreau's high status—someone who had never been mentioned in the original storyline—was glaringly anomalous.
It hadn't taken much to link this anomaly to the Traveler's suddenly materialized brother.
Now that his deduction was confirmed, a wave of deep annoyance washed over the Cavalry Captain. The Traveler had been waiting anxiously for her brother to make contact for quite some time. Yet here this 'Cointreau' was, not only failing to reach out to his sister, but actually having the sheer leisure time to run mafia errands for the Black Organization.
"Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kaeya. I am Cointreau."
Aether acted the part perfectly, treating Kaeya as a complete stranger—which, in a literal sense, they technically were. He offered a stiff, formal nod of introduction.
Immediately after, Aether noted the blatant scoff Kaeya had just let out. "Does Mr. Kaeya have some sort of dissatisfaction with me?"
"No," Kaeya replied smoothly, pulling a blatant lie out of thin air. "I'm just a bit annoyed that you're better looking than me."
"Oh?" Aether's lips twitched into a faint smile. He shifted his gaze toward the blonde undercover agent standing nearby. "Then do you also feel annoyed when you look at Bourbon?"
Kaeya blinked. Is he implying something about me?
"You think Bourbon is more handsome than me?" Kaeya asked, his tone laced with genuine, theatrical incredulity.
"At the very least," Aether replied calmly, "you two share quite a few physical similarities."
Hearing this exchange, Irish couldn't help but look back and forth between Kaeya and Bourbon. He scrutinized their features, mentally weighing them against each other. Finally, the burly man leaned down and whispered loudly into Bourbon's ear, "Don't worry. I think his skin is a shade darker than yours."
An irked vein throbbed violently at Bourbon's temple. Why do these two lunatics have to drag me into their weird measuring contest?! And since when is having a darker skin tone something to 'worry' about?!
Both Kaeya and Aether clearly heard Irish's less-than-subtle whisper. Kaeya's expression darkened a fraction. Deciding he had entertained enough nonsense for one afternoon, he smoothly changed the subject, steering them directly into the transaction.
Whatever, Kaeya thought. Once this deal is done, I'm going straight back to the hotel to tell the Traveler exactly what her irresponsible brother has been up to. Whatever happens next is between her and 'Cointreau.'
He couldn't wait to see what kind of reaction this fake mafia executive would have when his sister finally cornered him. Heh.
The exchange of goods proceeded quickly and flawlessly. Seeing that no unexpected variables had derailed the mission, Bourbon finally allowed himself to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
It seemed Cointreau truly didn't suspect him of being a rat. The executive's presence today was genuinely just to formally meet the organization's new supplier. Nothing more.
Just as the metal briefcases clicked shut and Kaeya turned on his heel to leave, a sharp ringtone shattered the silence of the factory.
Kaeya stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID.
Mona.
A heavy, sinking premonition instantly gripped his chest. He had left Klee in Mona's care before driving out here. Did something happen to the little Spark Knight?
The three Black Organization members watched Kaeya's relaxed demeanor evaporate. The sudden shift in the air put them instantly on edge. Irish's thick fingers slowly tightened around the handle of the newly acquired briefcase, his muscles tensing.
"What's wrong?" Irish asked, his voice dropping an octave in suspicion. "Did something happen?"
Kaeya ignored him completely. He pressed the phone to his ear.
The others couldn't hear the frantic voice on the other end of the line, but they watched in real-time as the color drained from Kaeya's face. His singular eye widened in sheer horror.
"What did you just say?!" Kaeya barked, his usual composure entirely shattered. "Klee is missing?!"
Bourbon's breath hitched. He knew Kaeya had brought a little girl with him to this city—he had even seen the adorable child in red during a magic show a while back.
Hearing Kaeya's panicked shout, a sharp pang of genuine worry pierced through Bourbon's chest. Even if the adults surrounding that child were deeply entangled with the Black Organization, she was still just an innocent little girl. As an officer of the law, the absolute last thing he wanted was for a helpless child to fall into danger.
Cointreau, however, stood perfectly still.
Unlike the panicked Kaeya and the deeply concerned Bourbon, Aether's expression shifted into something incredibly subtle. A bead of imaginary sweat seemed to form on the back of his head.
Klee is missing? Aether thought, staring blankly at the rusted floor. At this point... who is the one actually in danger?
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