Conan: I'm really not the mastermind behind the scenes

"FBI?"

Ireland was taken aback for a moment.

"Lay, that undercover agent, also came to Gunma?"

He spends most of his time in Japan and Europe and doesn't know much about the United States. When the FBI is mentioned, his first thought is Rye Whiskey, who attempted to arrest Gin two years ago but failed and escaped after his identity was exposed.

Chairman Takeuchi shook his head with a grim expression: "No, it's the police liaison officer from the US embassy. The person you killed last time was an American tourist, and another student also went missing nearby. He's here to investigate this matter."

Ireland was somewhat disappointed to hear it wasn't Rye: "How did Rum know about this?"

"He discovered the CIA's activities in Japan, and they seemed to be keeping an eye on the FBI agents who hadn't left after the embassy bombings. He learned about this from the intelligence he intercepted."

Ireland understood the whole story but remained unconcerned: "He's just a low-ranking diplomat. Even if he were an FBI agent, he couldn't do anything if he couldn't find any clues."

"He's different."

Chairman Takeuchi frowned and warned: "Rum said he is the adopted son of one of the U.S. Supreme Court justices, and his family background is not simple. He came to Japan three years ago, and the organization sent people to investigate him at that time."

"Oh?" Ireland finally became serious. "What did he do? Who was in charge of investigating him at the time?"

"He came to Japan to track down a bomber, and the person in charge of investigating him was said to be Bourbon."

As Chairman Takeuchi spoke, he kept a close eye on Ireland: "This agent named 'Akimitsu Aoyagi' can freely mobilize the US military. Not long ago, he even called in armed helicopters to straf the newly opened Suzuki Hotel. Unless absolutely necessary, do not provoke him."

Ireland was well aware of what happened at the Suzuki Hotel; Pisco had gone there for a banquet, was unfortunately photographed by reporters during the incident, and was subsequently killed by Gin.

His expression darkened: "Understood."

Ireland has no intention of taking action. Members of the organization usually avoid the police, let alone people with diplomatic status. Making a move would definitely attract double the police investigation.

However, following organizational practice, when he discovered that Chairman Takeuchi's eldest son had hired a detective, and that the FBI agent named Aoyagi Akimitsu happened to be traveling with the detective, he had someone plant a listening device on the detective so that he could monitor their movements at all times.

Unexpectedly, this action allowed him to overhear these people casually discussing Mr. Pisco.

"The person you mentioned who was very old but stayed at his post and died suddenly... could you be referring to the chairman of the Masuyama Group?"

"it's him."

A male voice, which hadn't spoken much before, opened its mouth.

"It's pitiful to think about. If he had been willing to retire early, perhaps he wouldn't have encountered all this misfortune. As a result, he's now facing constant external criticism and his reputation is ruined in his later years..."

At the end, there was even a hint of a smile. It was contemptuous and cold.

The moment Ireland heard those words, he even hallucinated Gin. When Ireland questioned him, he replied with the same cold indifference and mockery: "To make such a ridiculous mistake, it's truly a disgrace in one's later years."

Pisco, whom he regarded as a father, was killed by Gin, but due to Gin's power and status, he could not immediately take revenge.
Should Pisco also remain silent when this unfamiliar FBI agent makes outrageous remarks about him?
Irish Whiskey, who was already short-tempered, was unable to suppress his anger. While keeping an eye on the other person's surroundings, he immediately contacted Rum to ask about Aoyagi Akimitsu's information.

Rum had sent Pisco to contact high-ranking FBI officials to obtain intelligence, but that man was killed in the street two years prior, and Rum lost this source of information. Therefore, Ireland only obtained what Bourbon had gathered three years earlier.

During the investigation, Bourbon's identity had not yet been exposed, and Ireland believed the intelligence was credible.

[...Friendly to students, maintains a distant social distance from colleagues. Has a clean personal life, avoids overly intimate contact with others.]

[Excellent physical fitness, exceptional alcohol tolerance, able to immediately spot surveillance cameras tracking or nearby locations, but not sensitive to others entering his room...]

Besides these messages, there was also a photo. Perhaps it was taken secretly from the resume; it was a passport photo.

The young man in the photo is quite handsome, with a slight smile on his lips. Even though it's just a formal ID photo, it still looks like it's taken on the cover of a fashion magazine.

Ireland stared intently at the photograph.

To be honest, this kind of man, if he's called an FBI agent, is more like a victim who would appear in an FBI case file, dying from the fact that people he had toyed with stabbed him in places other than his face, ultimately dying a gruesome death with hundreds of stab wounds.

If we have to talk about secret agents, then it's the suave agent like 007, who changes into a beautiful Bond girl in every movie... In short, he has a very frivolous and dissolute vibe.

A person's temperament is a very subtle thing. Sometimes, even if you don't know someone at all, you can feel a strong liking or dislike at first glance.

Ireland's relationship with Aoyagi Akimitsu is the latter.

Even he himself couldn't explain the reason.

……

Looking into the dark woods, a murderous glint flashed in Irish Whiskey's eyes.

After sending out the intelligence, Rum specifically instructed that the FBI should not be touched lightly.

Unlike Chairman Takeuchi, who was too timid to let his children know what he was doing, this organization's second-in-command added a paragraph at the end.

If the other party discovers the organization's secrets, then kill him. His uncle, Perrin Nahash, a U.S. Supreme Court Justice nominated by the former president, has offended many people in recent years and has been on the bounty lists of some extremists. Even if he is killed, someone else can be blamed. Ireland doesn't know why this FBI agent suddenly climbed out of the window in the middle of the night and ran into this forest.

The organization's base was located deep in this forest. When a lower-level member noticed a stranger approaching, he immediately ran to inform him.

Since this guy came here on his own initiative, killing him would be perfectly in accordance with the organization's rules—just like when Gin killed Mr. Pisco.

Ireland thought coldly.

Just then, his cell phone rang.

The sound was particularly abrupt in the quiet night. Ireland almost drew his gun on the spot. He turned around angrily and saw a member take out his phone.

He couldn't recall the name, but he recognized the man as the one who had told him that the FBI was lurking in the forest and had called him over.

It's unclear what he saw, but under Ireland's watchful gaze, the nameless member of the lower class looked over with a troubled expression:
"Excuse me, Mr. Ireland, Mr. Glenn has given us new instructions."

Ireland knew who Glenn was; he hadn't had a good reputation among the organization's male members before, only improving in the last two years: "What is he up to?"

“He said he found the unconscious Scotch whisky in the Anchung City Hall, and he had other things to do and had to leave immediately, so he asked me to find someone to go with him to bring the undercover agent back to base.”

Ireland was even more puzzled: "That police undercover agent who escaped from Gin? According to the organization's rules, undercover agents should be killed immediately upon discovery. Why bring him back?"

The lower-ranking member looked pale and cautiously explained, "It's Lord Rum's order. He said he needs intelligence from the Public Security Bureau and wants us to capture them alive and bring them back... It was the same last time."

Ireland believed it.

It wasn't that he was easy to talk to, but rather that he knew very well that these people at the bottom of society wouldn't dare to lie about these things.

He glanced at the nearby woods, seemingly weighing whether continuing the hunt for the FBI agent or helping to bring back the undercover agent was more important. "Are you going alone?"

“Mr. Glenn asked me to find another helper. Just a regular member will do; I can’t trouble you with these small tasks,” the member said immediately.

"Okay, then you can go."

Ireland considered it for a moment, but ultimately chose the first option.

The lower-level member felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He repeatedly expressed his apologies and gratitude, then made eye contact with a silent member next to him, and the two quickly left together.

Their figures disappeared into the night, leaving only three members of the five-person group.

Ireland ignored them and turned its attention back to what was in front of them.

With two less light sources, the surroundings seemed to have become a little darker. The entire forest was silent, so silent that only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Ireland slowly frowned.

Normally, he wouldn't have paid any attention to this kind of environment, but for some reason, he always had a vague feeling that something was wrong.

It's too dark; he can't see anything in the distance. Could it be that the FBI agent is lurking in some corner, watching him and waiting to ambush him? That's why he felt... No, wait!
Ireland turned abruptly and raised his gun.

But it's too late.

Something was pressed against his ear, and a heavy, inhuman breathing sounded.

The next second, he was completely swallowed by darkness.

……

Meanwhile, in a certain place in Anzhong City.

A black Porsche drove by discreetly.

The silver-haired man driving stared blankly ahead. Suddenly, as if noticing something, his face darkened, and he slammed on the brakes.

The wheels rolled heavily over the ground, making a screeching sound, before coming to a stop.

"Dong dong."

Someone outside politely knocked on the car window.

Gin looked up, raising his gun even faster, but in the next second, the car window shattered from the outside with a crash. As shards of glass flew down, a perfectly unscathed fist reached in and pressed down on the muzzle of his gun.

"Long time no see, Gin."

Standing outside, Aoyagi Akimitsu smiled at him. "I don't really want to smash your whole car; it'll hurt my hands. Come down and talk to me now; the moonlight is nice tonight."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The first two chapters have been slightly revised... (End of this chapter)