Silence

Gin is impatient.

From the moment Rum's ability to complete important tasks was compromised, and Gin had to hand over and complete the tasks, but the tasks were still under Rum's name, he became impatient.

It takes patience to bring up a new person from scratch.

But bringing up Ichijō Mirai was easy, no need to think about how to weed out the innocence of the newcomer, how to lead the newcomer into the darkness, how to train the newcomer to be a wolf in the darkness, or how to channel the newcomer's natural instincts.

Just keep an eye on them.

As temporary instructor, Gin had to watch the newcomer's every move, and never, ever let him go out on a limb, or something even more blood-pressure-inducing was bound to happen.

It's a test of patience.

Gin has no patience for trash, but has patience for outstanding people.

...Even if the outstanding one who can't speak a word of human language.

The latter is Ichijō Mirai, who is overly adapted to darkness, so adapted that he is like a duck in water, and even the original convicts feel that he is a bit too much.

The former is a lousy target who has no brains and dares to shoot at a place like an amusement park.

"That guy wants to escape into the crowd. I'm blocking his route and forcing him to go to the corner," Gin said coldly, "It's expected to arrive near the haunted house in two minutes."

"His gun is with me, his right hand is injured and he can't resist, the haunted house is less crowded, I'll finish him off directly there."

"The police will arrive in ten minutes at the earliest, plenty of time to evacuate, what's the reaction of the crowd on your side?"

A human's first instinct to escape is to run to a place where their own kind is gathered.

This wasn't the first time that Gin had suppressed a route, forcing the target to go to a less crowded area. Gin had already done two or three rounds of suppression, forcing the target, who instinctively wanted to go to a more crowded area, to flee to a corner.

With the help of the suppressed Vodka, he turned around and headed towards the haunted house, while reporting in a low voice the crowd's reaction he had observed, "The crowd's panic level is medium."

Gunfire at an amusement park is a scary thing.

If there had been two or three more gunshots, the amusement park visitors wouldn't have hesitated to scatter and run for their lives, but there was only one shot, and they were still hesitant to scatter in uncertain panic.

"No one's found the scene of the transaction yet," Vodka added, "I took the suitcase with me, and there's only a gunshot mark on the wall, so it'll take some time for the police to lock it down, and they won't find anything."

"Well, tell the other members of the organization who were nearby separating the crowds to retreat immediately, and have them send a debriefing message once they've evacuated to a safe location," Gin said without pause, asking for the toughest of the tough, "I'll take charge of Ichijō Mirai."

He followed the mission objective from a distance, his eyes going completely cold, "The brainless guy is entering the haunted house area."

The haunted house and the roller coaster area overlapped for a section, but the coaster hadn't come through yet at the starting station, and the coaster area was empty, with a maze of greenery below it, a pathetic lack of people, and only a few clouds above it.

The target of the mission only hesitated for a few seconds, turned around, saw Gin who deliberately followed from afar, and then decisively avoided the danger zone of open and empty and few people, covered his right arm and fled to the direction of the haunted house.

The haunted house is very large, the theme is quite in line with the neon-style Stormy Mountains, the building is a European-style villa, each level has a variety of scary monsters, either scattered corpses in the halls, people hanging bedroom, or vampire skulls and other arrangements, as well as spiders and other simulated animals.

The European-style villa meant that even if you weren't at the front door of the haunted house, you could force your way into it by climbing.

That's what the target intended to do.

He couldn't find the main entrance to the haunted house, so he hurriedly circled around the haunted house for a while, deepening into the maze of greenery between the haunted house and the maze of greenery, further away from the crowds, and then looked ahead and realized that he would only be further out of the way, so he clenched his teeth, and decided to force his way into the haunted house through the window.

There were few people in the neighborhood, and the place was isolated, making it a perfect place to kill someone.

Gin picked up his pace.

"Stop," he said coldly, raising his gun, "or I'll shoot you."

Just kidding.

Shooting now would only make more noise, and Gin wasn't going to do it for a while.

But a gun is a deterrent.

The target's body froze at the first-floor window. 

His neat suit was wrinkled, his knees and elbows were dusty, and his right hand had been hit by Gin's baton at the time of the shooting, and there was a pain that threatened to crack the bone.

"I thought," Gin sneered as he walked over, "that the president would be smart."

"I didn't think you'd be so stupid as to shoot for 100 million yen."

As he spoke, he walked, to within a meter of the mission target, lowered his gun, and fumbled for his throwing stick, "Trouble..."

A sudden feeling of foreboding descended.

On the second floor, there was a slight sound, like a finger tapping on the railing.

Gin stopped abruptly, his eyes sharpened, and the gun he had just put down was raised urgently, and without hesitation, he aimed at the direction from which the sound came and fired.

He took a quick glance at the second floor balcony and then shifted his muzzle.

He fired only one shot, but three shots rang out.

The first was the sound of two guns fired at the same time from too close a distance, and the shots overlapped.

A bullet grazed the left side of Gin's hat, leaving a slight white mark from the rapid friction of the air.

He didn't move.

The second shot, a single shot, a bullet grazed Gin's right brim, leaving not even a white mark.

Gin inclined his head toward the wall of greenery where the bullet had struck.

A third bullet grazed his shoulder, swept away a few strands of silver hair, and struck the labyrinthine wall of hard stone and climbing greenery again.

Three shots in all.

Gin shifted his muzzle down, aiming the gun he'd just fired at the mission target, but his eyes looked upstairs and bit out a name, "Ichijō Mirai."

"...What are you doing?"

On the second-floor balcony of the European-style villa, Ichijō Mirai put away his gun, smiled friendly, and waved to the people downstairs, showing his Friendliness level of at least three stars, "Hi."

He explains, "He had a knife up his sleeve, and when you retracted your gun, he tried to attack you, and in my haste, I just shot him."

And frankly admitted his own mistakes, "I'm sorry, my marksmanship is not very good, hit a little off."

A little off: three shots in a row within ten meters, all of them grazing Gin, not even the hat.

In a sense, it was harder than hitting Gin, and more intentional than bad shooting.

Combined with the flippant attitude, it was a blatant provocation.

Gin's face turned cold, "You're such a..."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly frowned, and his tone was like he was reading some bizarre and incomprehensible book, "'Moral Sense'?"

With Ichijō Mirai's hand still raised, the wooden omamori swayed gently in the air, slowly spinning in a circle, "Huh?"

In the sunlight, the goshogi glistened, rather like a positive prop.

 Gin's brow furrowed, still reading, "'High'?"

"..."

He was silent.

He was shocked into silence by the frivolous and shameless person who spoke nonsense and could not even make up a single human sentence.

Does the organization really need this kind of guy?