Miss Assassin is heavily addicted

Chapter 23.2. Teens in Times

The camera turned.

—Big Bird Spinning Bar—

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Big Bird Spin-Spin-Spin Bar tonight! I'm your host, Michael!"

Inside the brightly lit bar, a man dressed as a bartender stands on a stage, surrounded by a circle of white light.

The area around the stage was deliberately made to be completely dark.

It's 8 PM now, and the Big Bird Spinning Bar is bustling with activity, with the area under the stage already packed with people.

The waitresses, including Nicole Griffith, were busy serving tea and water, while the guests at the table were blushing and shouting for the band to start playing.

And without a doubt, the performance is about to begin.

"First, let's welcome drummer Brant Bell to the stage!"

As the host finished speaking, a wave of applause erupted from the audience, followed by a sudden beam of light shining on the left side of the stage—

The white beam of light illuminated the dark-skinned man with dreadlocks behind the drum stand. He sat on a stool, striking two drumsticks.

Boom boom, boom boom boom! (Drumming sound)
"Next up, please welcome the pianist—Zaran Morrison!"

The applause from the audience was brighter than before, and a beam of light shone on the stage again. The long-haired, bespectacled man sitting in front of the piano sat upright, still elegant despite being middle-aged.

Her pale fingers pressed the piano keys.

do re～～mi fa sol↑ (piano sound)
Beautiful musical notes.

"And then there's St. Tobler's bassist of the year, George Long!"

"Ohhhhhhhh!!"

Brighter cheers and applause erupted from below the stage as host Michael gave a passionate introduction. A third beam of white light shone down from the stage, landing on the right side.

The blond, wavy-haired man held his head high, strumming the four strings of his bass guitar. The instrument emitted a deep, resonant sound, like a rock prince.

~~!
"Finally! The soul of the band, a rising star in the music world! Lead vocalist and guitarist—Leon Rossi!"

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh!!"

This time, the audience erupted in thunderous applause and cheers!
A bright beam of light shone on the center of the stage, and a young man in a suit walked onto the stage carrying a yellow guitar, exuding extraordinary confidence.

"The spirit of rock and roll is shouting! The spirit of rock and roll is trembling! Please enjoy the first song of the night—'The Innocent Eraser'!"

Host Michael waved his hand and shouted at the top of his lungs!

Then came the chord progressions of a folk song! It was the sound of He Ye strumming the strings!
C→ G→ Am→ F!
This band, composed of top-notch musicians of various instruments, can effortlessly master even melodies from another world under their careful instruction! The sounds of drums, piano, and bass blend together to create perfect notes—until the shouts of their hearts bring the atmosphere to its climax!

Ohhhhhhhhhhh!

Open up your voice!
"Life, can you please leave me alone this once?!"

"In my next life, I just want to be a child who never grows up!"

"With someone to keep warm and someone to rely on, there won't be too many worries!"

"You can erase life's disputes with the most innocent eraser!"

"Ohhhhhhh!!! (Audience shouts)"

This is a melody I've never heard before, yet it's incredibly moving. The simple and honest people of this strange world are struck by the impact of a modern DJ, and they shake their heads and wave their arms high!
The dance floor was filled with a cacophony of sounds and songs, creating a vibrant and energetic atmosphere.

At the bar, a little further away from the noisy area, bartender Brooke was filled with emotion. Wiping the silver strainer, he looked at the four-man band not far away and thought to himself that the bar was really thriving.

Four days have passed since Leon Rossi started working at the Big Bird Spinning Bar. The handsome, dark-haired young man has quickly adapted to the job. Although it is unknown what he did before, there is no doubt that he is a born musician now standing on the stage.

"Let me see your hands!!"

"Leon, Leon! Leon, Leon!"

Thanks to his presence, the bar's revenue has soared recently, attracting many people from nearby bars, and Brooke has thus earned more money in bartending and tips.

Owner Perkins also saw his commercial value and spent a lot of money to buy an exclusive article in the "Grilli City Morning Post" to market the new singer.

"He might be the future of the music industry."

The focus shifts back.

Time passed quickly, and people came and went in the bar.

The four-member band performing on stage gradually changed their style, shifting from rock music that hyped up the atmosphere to gentle and soothing jazz, allowing guests to quietly enjoy the music.

Lead singer He Ye had disappeared from the stage, and his place had been taken by a man holding a saxophone. The man played a long, drawn-out saxophone tune, and the other three calmly joined in.

Meanwhile, He Ye, who had disappeared, had reappeared at Brooke's bar without anyone noticing.

"Oh my god, singing is actually quite physically demanding..."

He Ye sat at the bar, sighing. He pulled at his collar with one hand to cool himself down, his forehead covered in sweat. On the bar was the black half-mask he wore.

Before Brooke could even tease him, someone nearby rushed over, their voices excited.

"Sir, would you like some water?"

Nicole, dressed in a small bartender's uniform, came running over quickly. Her eyes were bright, and her short black hair suited the outfit quite well. She carried a tray in both hands, like a skilled waitress, with a white towel, water, and a glass of whiskey on it—her intention was clear.

He Ye took the water and towel: "Thank you."

"You're welcome!"

Before the two could exchange a word, the man in the tie walked over, slapped Nicole on the head, and said unhappily:
"Hey Nicole! How many times has this happened? I told you to serve the guests, why are you serving Leon's food instead? What are you good for?!"

"Whoosh!—"

Nicole quickly lowered her head and ran away, feeling guilty.

After catching Nicole, who was slacking off, the middle-aged foreman glanced at He Ye, snorted coldly, and left without saying anything more, continuing to keep a close eye on the others.

Brooke and He Ye exchanged a smile and shook their heads.

Having worked here for four days, He Ye, as the lead singer of the bar's resident band, has not yet fully integrated into the local ecosystem. The Big Bird Turns Bar has a total of more than fifty staff members, including four bartenders, twenty waiters, and twenty-five dealers and security guards on the second floor.

Nicole Griffiths was placed under the management of the bartender supervisor.

Logically, the supervisor shouldn't be targeting this young girl, but he just can't help it that she always likes to hang around He Ye. As soon as he leaves the stage, Nicole Griffiths immediately comes running over, and although she's very diligent, she once gave all the drinks meant for the guests to He Ye, which earned her a scolding.

In short, she is adapting.

The bar had an elegant atmosphere, with the sound of a saxophone echoing in the air. He Ye and Brooke chatted casually. In another ten minutes or so, he would be going back on stage to perform and continue to become a rising star.

But at this moment——

He Ye felt a tap on the shoulder.

A greasy middle-aged man in a traditional Chinese jacket appeared beside them at some point, his stubble unkempt and his eyes filled with worry. The moment He Ye turned and met Mark's gaze, his heart skipped a beat.

His surprised expression was quickly masked.

"Your friend?" Brooke raised an eyebrow curiously.

He Ye stood up and gestured, calmly taking out the mask: "Old friend, I'm going over there to catch up with him."

Soon, they arrived at a slightly secluded round table. In the noisy bar, there was only a mop and a bucket near the floor, and not many people liked to stay here.

The two lowered their voices to make sure only the other could hear them.

"Why are you here? Did the organization send you news?"

He Ye asked, somewhat puzzled, because this wasn't the first time he had met Mark since leaving the organization.

Two nights ago, He Ye ran into him while singing on the bar stage. Amidst the bustling crowd, Mark, who was wearing a mandarin jacket at the time, looked at her with a bewildered expression, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

And now—his eyes are filled with such melancholy.

"I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

"...?" He Ye frowned.

Since when has the handover of intelligence been divided into these two types? Shouldn't there only be positive news? And usually, such an opening statement usually means the bad news is absolutely terrible.

"You...you should tell me the good news first." He Ye pursed her lips, deciding to first raise her psychological threshold.

Mark took a deep breath, crossed his hands, and said:
"The good news is that I have successfully destroyed your file. There are no records of the spy He Ye anymore. As for the organization, I also conveyed the information about your sacrifice two days ago. They replied by telegram at noon today, indicating that they will award you an additional Medal of Honor."

At this point, Mark added:
"Of course, there was only verbal praise, no money."

Heye: "..."

"Okay, anyway, thank you for this, Mark. I will always remember you," He Ye said softly after a moment of silence.

The destruction of his spy file means he is now safe. Even if the NSA raids his base, they won't find any record of his activities, and even if they arrest him on espionage charges later, it will be to no avail. Because he is no longer a spy.

"So, this is your new life?"

Mark asked curiously, "I thought you would go and live somewhere with spring flowers and a view of the sea, but I never expected you to be kissing snow-white young skin in a decadent bar... Oh, of course, I'm not envious at all."

Mark shrugged awkwardly.

He Ye was somewhat speechless after hearing this. He also wanted to pursue such a new life, but what happened a few days ago made him hesitate—chains, fire, lost children, and being wanted by the police made it difficult for him to leave the city.

Not to mention that he is now penniless and has no choice but to work to earn money.

However, as things stand, the incident involving Baplow Credit Lending Company hasn't caused much of a stir. There were only a few police officers deployed when the wanted posters were put up on the walls on the first day, and I've heard from others that the curfew at the train station and dock has been eased.

It seems the National Security Bureau isn't that keen on arresting him.

Moreover, the old man in front of him hadn't even noticed the report in the Royal City Express—that the mysterious man who broke the egg was actually He Ye. When He Ye brought up the topic, Mark even remarked that the homeless had been really fierce lately.

In short... my thoughts stopped there.

“I will still start my new life, this is just a temporary stay… So, that’s the good news—” He Ye asked softly, “What’s the bad news?”

Mark stroked his chin and said:

"The bad news is that you've been discovered."

"...?" He Ye asked, puzzled.

What?

Mark spoke methodically, shaving his stubble with his fingers:

"Lawrence and Monica already know that you just retired and didn't die a heroic death. To be honest, I initially wanted to keep it a secret, since the fewer people who know about it, the safer it is—but you're so famous that you're in the newspapers. Even if you're wearing a mask, they know you too well, not to mention that you're still using the name Leon Rossi."

“That’s because only this ID was safe when the contract was signed…” He Ye covered her face and murmured, “Okay, okay, I get it. You told other people about this, right? That’s really bad.”

The more people who know about He Ye's retirement, the greater the risk of exposure in the future. He can only rely on the feelings he has had for many years, hoping that these colleagues can help him deceive the organization and remain silent.

“Well, actually, Sophia almost found out back then, you know?” Mark dropped another bombshell, “Just this morning, she suddenly came to Monica saying she had insomnia, but actually she was definitely there to find out where you were.”

"..." He Ye felt his heart stop beating.

Yugiri is a state-trained assassin. She is loyal to the organization and has little emotional connection to it. If she were to hear that she was leaving simply to find a new life—an act akin to defection—it would definitely bring about some disaster.

He Ye couldn't beat her. If she wanted to kill him, all he could do was choose a tombstone and an auspicious day to wait quietly.

call--

"So?" He Ye swallowed hard. "She knows?"

“Of course not.” Mark slowly shook his head and sighed. “We lied to her, saying you went on a secret mission and died a heroic death. That girl wasn’t well-educated and was easy to fool. We just used some words to get by.”

"But in return... uh, would you like to attend your funeral?" Mark teased, raising an eyebrow and winking.

"...?" This was the third time He Ye had fallen silent.

"A funeral?" He Ye murmured. "So real?"

"Of course, the show has to go all the way. The funeral is this Saturday morning at the church on North Street. We've chosen a traditional Mass for you, along with a physical burial—after all, the premise is that you died a glorious death without a complete body."

Mark smiled and then remembered something, his eyes looking like someone's forlorn expression, and he felt a little guilty.

So he also became dejected and asked with a sigh:

"Heye, how long did your and Sophia's undercover mission last?"

“Two years,” He Ye said slowly, “After Polly and his team were exposed, they lost all their identities.”

"Two years... what did you do while you were living with her?"

He Ye didn't understand why he asked this, but seeing Mark's slightly melancholy expression, she patiently answered:

"I didn't do much, just cooked for her every day, cleaned the house and did all the housework, since she doesn't know how to cook at all, and she's not even good at folding clothes."

He Ye also recalled that time and continued slowly:
"To be honest, I was terrified at the beginning of our time together. After all, we had only worked together on missions before, and the time we spent together was never more than 24 hours. But after the infiltration mission, we were together every day."

“For example, one time at two in the morning, she was still washing her hands in the bathroom. They were red from washing. I asked her what she was doing, and she said that there was blood on her hands that she couldn’t wash off. Her eyes were calm. In fact, it was blood that had flowed out from her own broken skin… It was really scary.”

“I’m afraid she might have a mental breakdown one day and kill me too, so I can only try to comfort her and get her a cat to keep her. I will agree to almost any request she makes.”

"Speaking of which, there was one time that was really funny... That girl couldn't sleep and stood by my bed in the middle of the night with her pillow, pursing her lips and not saying a word. I was so scared that I thought it was a ghost. Later I found out that she had insomnia, so I stayed with her until she fell asleep before I left."

“…I think I know why that girl acted this way,” Mark muttered sentimentally. “No one could handle this…”

"Hmm, what did you say?" He Ye snapped out of his chuckle.

“It’s nothing.” Mark shook his head. “So, are you coming to the funeral?”

"If I come, it won't be a funeral."

He Ye stood up and waved, as his break was almost over. The saxophonist on stage was already bowing in thanks, and he had to go back up and sing some more tender songs.

"Come find me again if you need anything next time, I'm going on stage now."

After leaving those words, He Ye departed.

Mark sat there in silence for a while, then looked at He Ye, who was already on stage and greeting people. No one could possibly associate the spy with the man in front of them.

Actually, what he said at that time was quite right.

These spies have never had a life of their own. Was this the kind of struggle they were born to fight for? No, it's about freedom. If this is the kind of life he wants to pursue, Mark would bless his old friend.

The spy identity, which requires constant vigilance and weighing of pros and cons, leads to a loss of self. He Ye has now found a new life and seems to be doing quite well. He has always been a meddlesome guy, with an excessive amount of compassion that is completely unlike people of this era. Perhaps his departure this time has some profound reasons.

"Goodbye then."

Mark, the leader of the spy team, muttered to himself, realizing that these were unheard words.

The greasy middle-aged man sadly touched his stubble, wondering if he should shave it to look more handsome—and slowly left the bar.

Night had fallen outside, and the streetlights in Greenley were brightly lit.

A cold wind brushed my face, and my mandarin jacket seemed a little too thin.

"Kacha."

At that moment, hidden behind a building near the bar, a man silently took a picture of Mark with a camera.

And with the soft click of the camera—

The photos slowly emerged from the tape.

The photo above is crystal clear; it's a picture of Mark Coslin, filled with a certain tremor.

(End of this chapter)