Conan: This repairman is not very knowledgeable

London, England.

On a park bench.

"Brother, the coffee's here." Vodka handed the cup to Gin.

I mustn't get this wrong; I added some vodka to my drink to perk myself up.

If my older brother finds out I drank during the day, I'll get scolded, especially since I have to drive later.

"An old guy died, which is good news for us," Gin said with a sip of coffee and a cold laugh.

The more old guys like these who die, the better.

As for who killed him...

It doesn't matter.

"Will this affect our arrangements?" Vodka asked curiously.

He had heard about this as well.

The organization has connections with many wealthy and powerful people, and some of them are even no different from the members. If someone with ulterior motives is behind this, it is likely that innocent bystanders will be affected in the future.

“Nobody wants to die, and they’re well-fed and rolling in money.” Gin was referring to those big men.

After taking a few sips, the man in the trench coat casually tossed his coffee into the nearby trash can, thinking it would be better to have some alcohol later that night.

I don't know why Vodka went out of his way to buy this stuff.

"Time's almost up, stop drinking," Gin said, glancing at the vodka he was slowly sipping.

"Yes!"

I drank quite a bit of vodka and felt incredibly energized, so I tossed the remaining half-cup aside.

Two men dressed in black, looking like performance artists, sat on a bench in the London fog, waiting.

Not far away, a man dressed in similarly suspicious clothes slowly walked towards them.

The man's clothes were loose and his hat brim was pulled low, clearly indicating that he was deliberately disguising himself.

"Where's the money?" the man with a thick beard asked the two men in black.

"According to your proposed transaction, it's cash on delivery." Gin took out a briefcase from behind him and handed it to Vodka beside him.

"hehe."

After opening the vodka, he took out a laptop, typed a few words, and a transfer page appeared. He filled in six zeros, and now all he had to do was press enter to send the money.

“Very good, what you want is in here.” The bearded man took out a piece of paper from his sleeve and said, on which two strings of characters could be vaguely seen.

“Vodka, transfer the money to him,” Gin said with a sneer.

Anyway, he can't escape.

"Yes, brother." Vodka nodded and pressed Enter.

A short while later, the bearded man received a message on his phone, informing him that the money had been deposited into his account.

Seeing such a straightforward and generous buyer, the bearded man handed a note to the square-faced man in black and then said, "To be honest, we have some other photos and videos, of course, they are from other people."

"I believe you will be interested in that as well."

"Whose is it?" Gin asked, raising an eyebrow as expected.

You can never have too much of this kind of thing; money, on the other hand, is not very useful.

Photos and videos are enough to manipulate some people.

The bearded man looked around and, seeing that it was empty and deserted, uttered two names, both of whom were guys he often saw on the TV news—the Absolutely Explosive Brothers!
“Brother, no problem, it’s really great.” Vodka logged into the website according to the information on the note, copied the photos to his computer, and turned to Gin to say.

This content is definitely acceptable.

"I'll arrange another deal with you, but don't try anything clever," Gin said coldly, giving the bearded man a threatening look.

Regardless of whether you are a trading partner or not, you should still threaten them.

If you don't sell me your stuff, I'll kill you!
"Don't worry, who would turn down money?" The bearded man sensed a dark aura emanating from the other person, who was clearly not someone to be trifled with, so he immediately nodded obediently.

Damn it, I definitely can't come to trade myself next time. I'll just hire someone to come and make do.

Being murdered to silence you is no pleasant experience.

"I'll let you know the location of the transaction later," Gin said, then turned and walked away without looking back.

"Don't try to be clever!" Vodka put the notebook back in the box and followed his older brother.

"What exactly do these two people do..." The bearded man muttered to himself, tugging at his fake beard and watching the two men's backs.

He'd been in this line of work for quite some time, and he'd never seen such a headstrong guy before. However, the murderous aura emanating from him was no joke; his eyes were like those of a venomous snake, and just one look from him would send chills down your spine.

"Once you get the money, run away as fast as you can."

The bearded man decided to expedite the transaction and retreat quickly.

Trading such damaging information about political figures can be a deadly business.

Who knows when he'll be shot eight times in the back and then commit suicide to close the case.

Thinking of this, he wrapped his coat tighter and hurriedly left in the opposite direction from the two men.

"Brother, what's the next step? Should we contact that person directly?" After getting into the car, Vodka put down his laptop, grabbed the steering wheel, and asked.

"The photo will be on her desk tomorrow morning. Let's see how she reacts then."

Gin lit a cigarette with a cold smile.

It's like they've already started toying with the prey they've caught.

Anyone who stands in the way of the organization will live in fear.

"I understand!" Vodka was also looking forward to seeing that scene.

"Drive, vodka..."

"Those flies from MI6 have been buzzing around again lately." Gin said, exhaling a puff of smoke as he opened the car window and felt the not-so-fresh air.

He wasn't entirely without worries.

"In my opinion, we should just take them out!" Vodka said, pressing the horn in a slightly agitated manner.

"Hmph, they won't live much longer either," Gin said, casually tossing his cigarette butt out the window.

Killing is acceptable, and killing someone else's people on someone else's turf is not a problem either, but it is essential to maintain a proper balance.

Making them unable to do anything but watch is an art in itself.

Of course, it's different for undercover agents. They kill openly and honestly, and they don't even help dispose of the bodies; the more blood they bleed, the better...

"Brother, I heard about Japan..."

"Shut up, Vodka."

……

the other side.

After eating at several restaurants, Lin Feng complained to Bai Ma with great dissatisfaction that the chefs' food preparation skills needed improvement.

It doesn't look like it was made by one person at all, and it's a bit rough around the edges.

"And you ate more than a dozen servings in a row..." Even the young master Bai Ma said helplessly.

I have no problem paying, but I should give myself a little more time during the card swiping process, maybe give a couple of comments or something.

"I still think yesterday's burger and fries were tastier," Kaito said with a burp.

Even the best beef in the world is just so-so.

"..."

White Horse stared at the guy for a moment.

They're not even bothering to pretend anymore. (End of Chapter)