Miss Assassin is heavily addicted

Chapter 24, Section 3: The Impatient Miss
—Greece Downtown, Department of Homeland Security—

At eight o'clock in the morning, police officers were already busy inside the National Security Operations Countermeasures Bureau. Piles of white paper documents were everywhere in the office, and some officers who had worked all night were even standing in front of the water dispenser, making coffee to relieve their fatigue with dark circles under their eyes.

"Ah~"

Meanwhile, Rory Albert was discussing the developed photos with two colleagues.

“Mark Coslin visited the Apple Grocery Store on Rose Street two days ago, which is a contact point for CORE, a B-country spy organization that has been identified before.”

One photo was pulled out from the messy collection, showing a disheveled Mark with a newspaper in hand, head down, walking into a grocery store.

"This contact point has only been recorded once in the nearly six months since we discovered it. The newspaper is definitely the one. This guy is from CORE... But we don't know why he went there. Maybe they have another operation in secret."

Rory frowned and continued moving the photos around, analyzing them as he said:

"Based on the investigation of his activity locations in the past few days—North Street, Narcissus Street, and North Street—he has been staying at a psychological clinic, a bar, and a newsstand under his name, respectively. These locations may contain clues about other spies."

"It could just be a casual pastime," a colleague speculated after some thought.

“Hmm…we can’t rule out that possibility.” Rory nodded.

They continued discussing their views, analyzing the possibilities of the photos in the office. Because the intelligence had just been delivered in an envelope by auxiliary officers, they were so excited that they hadn't even considered discussing it in the meeting room.

At that moment, another group of people walked into the office.

The leader was a middle-aged man with purple hair, wearing a winter police uniform, rubbing his hands together as if he hadn't slept well. He had an unsightly hooked nose and sunken eyes, giving him a very sinister look.

He had three horizontal lines on his chest, which signified sergeant.

Good morning, Mr. Draco.

Upon seeing him at the office door, the police officer immediately greeted him, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Good morning..." The sinister-looking middle-aged man waved his hand indifferently, followed by two subordinate police officers from the same group.

Inside the office, Rory Albert and his colleagues, engrossed in their discussion, were oblivious to their boss's approach. They continued their earnest conversation about various possibilities, having already identified Mark Coslin as their target.

For the time being, we decided not to alert them and to see if we could gather more clues.

"After all, the spies who are left are all as cunning as monsters," Rory said wistfully, touching the photo and staring at the greasy old man in it.

"Wow, you're so energetic this morning."

At this moment, Sergeant Draco walked up to them with a mocking smile, his sunken, algae-like eyes scanning them up and down, raising an eyebrow:

"You guys haven't rested all night?"

Rory snapped out of his daze and saluted.

The same was true for the other two colleagues.

“Yes, after all, it’s intelligence related to CORE. We’re happy to catch even a spy,” Rory replied neither humbly nor arrogantly, lowering his salute. “I’m sure you are too.”

Sergeant Draco listened in silence for a moment, then picked up the photo and looked at it. It was a picture of Mark as a greasy middle-aged man, and he couldn't help but shake his head sadly:

"You've all been pushed too hard by that arrogant little girl. How could such a decadent man be a spy? Just because he went in and out of that Apple Grocery Store? And was carrying that newspaper? Is it possible that all of this is just a coincidence, or that this contact point has actually been abandoned, since there hasn't been any intelligence exchange for half a year?"

After saying that, he carelessly threw away the photo.

“Look at you all now, with such dark circles under your eyes, like you’ve been smeared with ink—I’d say you should take a break.”

Sergeant Draco, with a sinister air, patted Rory's shoulder gently as if out of concern, but his eyes were actually full of mockery.

Rory Albert remained composed and unperturbed, knowing that the sergeant's sarcasm was not directed at him, but at the leader of their fourth action team in the investigation department.

Two months after graduating from school, she was parachuted into the National Security Bureau's investigation department. On her first day there, she offended many people because she couldn't stand the lazy other officers and wanted to make a difference.

The memory ends.

"If you stay with that arrogant little girl, you might develop health problems before you even retire... It's amazing that you can put up with her terrible temper."

Sergeant Draco waved his hand after speaking, not intending to make any more sarcastic remarks, and was about to leave when—

The sound of police officers greeting them came from behind them.

"Good morning, Sergeant Loris!"

Then another sergeant walked into the office.

Her long, light blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and her cute features made her look like a student. Her cheeks were red from the cold. The girl was wearing the same winter police uniform, but the padded down looked a bit bulky on her, like an Arctic penguin.

A red velvet scarf was tied around her neck.

She approached, holding several photos in her hand, her cold gaze making one want to stay away.

At that moment, the air in the office seemed to freeze, and many police officers stood still, even breathing cautiously.

Draco, who had just finished speaking, also felt the pressure. The middle-aged, gloomy sergeant turned his head as if facing an even more authoritative superior, and became a little flustered for a moment.

But the next second, long, pale golden hair swept past him.

Lorice didn't look at him any longer. She simply slammed the photo on the table, then put her red, frozen hands into her coat pockets to warm them. She pursed her lips and said:
"This is the second suspicious person."

The photo captures a blue-haired, blue-eyed man in a black trench coat entering the newspaper office on North Street at six in the morning, exuding a cool and aloof air.

If He Ye were here, she would definitely recognize him—this is Lawrence, one of the key members of their spy team, with blue hair and blue eyes.

Rory was shocked and stammered:

"Sergeant Loris, how can you be so sure..."

“I took the photos,” Loris interrupted him, hands in her pockets, sniffling her red, frostbitten nose. “You guys come with me for a meeting now and tell me about the operation tonight.”

"Are you going to arrest them?" the middle-aged officer in the same group frowned, this was undoubtedly very reckless.

Lorice met his gaze and calmly said:
"In short, there will be an operation at 7 p.m. I will tell you the details in the meeting room. Follow me now. We will rest immediately after the meeting and then meet in the afternoon."

"..." The middle-aged police officer wanted to say something, but he clenched his fists and didn't lash out.

Finally, Rory spoke up, nodding and patting the person next to him on the shoulder: "Yes—let's go, everyone."

Soon after, the people present left with their documents and collected photos, heading towards the meeting room.

The office remained completely silent throughout, like an icy cave with a biting wind; no one dared to speak. The sinister Sergeant Draco stood rooted to the spot, not daring to move an inch, as did his two subordinates behind him.

Soon, the officers left.

Loris, who was walking at the back, seemed unaware of the matter; as long as she walked out of the door, she could take the matter with her.

Undoubtedly, being heard making such defamatory remarks face-to-face is extremely embarrassing, and for the person involved to point them out is to openly defy authority and turn against the person.

Sergeant Draco could only think to himself, or rather hope, that Loris might not have heard those words, since she had almost finished speaking when she pushed the door open and walked in.

But that's not the case.

Sniffling her frostbitten nose, Loris turned back as she was about to leave the office—her hands were in the pockets of her winter police uniform, and although she looked petite and cute, her voice was icy, and her lips, hidden beneath a red scarf, were moving:

"Just wait for me."

After saying that, she pushed open the door and left. A deathly silence fell over the office. The other officers glanced at Sergeant Draco's face, which grew increasingly grim. No one felt sorry for him; after all, he'd been caught red-handed this time, not only for his secret escapades but also for being caught by the very person in charge. —Who knows where he'll be transferred to as a sheriff, or if he'll simply be dismissed.

"Keep going, keep working."

An officer in the office muttered something to himself, and the frozen crowd snapped out of their daze, pretending nothing was wrong, and continued moving around and busying themselves.

Although they all disliked the new sergeant in the investigation department, at this moment, more of them were certain that they could no longer talk about her behind her back.

At least not in the office anymore.

……

—Inside the Big Bird Spinning Bar—

Five p.m.

Before the bar opened, He Ye rested his chin on his hand and watched Nicole mix drinks—sitting at the bar.

As the sun gradually sets below the horizon, the afterglow of the sunset over the city is breathtakingly beautiful. It's almost dinnertime, and workers and seagulls are resting at the dock, watching the distant lighthouse gradually brighten.

But for those who work in bars, this is just the beginning.

The band "TNT" from He Ye will also be performing tonight, ending at midnight. Their setlist is entirely sentimental, as the bar's overall tone is relaxed tonight.

However, bassist George was taking a break, so only three people were on stage—but it didn't matter that there was one less bassist, as long as he had his yellow guitar.

“Smear lemon juice around the rim of a cut kumquat, then dip it in salt and celery salt; this is called salt rimming.”

Let's turn our attention back to the bar counter.

The blonde bartender, with a cigarette dangling from her lips, calmly stood next to Nicole, watching her learn to mix drinks with great skill, leaning against the bar.

He Ye sat opposite the two as a judge.

The reason things turned out this way was two days ago—when He Ye had just finished get off work with his guitar and was chatting idly with Brooke. The two talked about their salaries, and Brooke said that he would earn about 1800 crowns this week from bartending.

Hearing this, He Ye was shocked, because this was a higher income than his own.

Although he couldn't see Brooke's silver strainer shaking wildly at the bar, rattling like a helicopter propeller, the precise numbers made him realize that bartending was a profession with high barriers to entry.

So after thinking about it, he decided to let Nicole learn bartending from Brooke. After all, it's good to have a skill to make a living in the world, so you can be independent after leaving him.

"Can you learn it?"

"able!"

Out of respect for He Ye, Brooke readily agreed to teach her. The very next day—yesterday—Brooke spent half an hour between leaving get off work and starting work patiently teaching Nicole Griffith the secrets of bartending.

And then--

Brooke was scared.

Because Nicole learns so fast! So fast! Even though the shaking technique is the most difficult to master, Brooke couldn't find any fault with her after only the third time he taught her!
"Mr. Brooke? How is he?"

She nervously opened the flask lid, only to find a perfectly mixed liquor inside, with even the white foam looking beautiful.

Without a doubt, if things continue like this, the apprentice will starve the master—Brook can imagine himself becoming homeless and destitute after losing his job.

So he sighed and waved his hand, no longer teaching.

"You've graduated, Nicole."

He Ye could understand, since Brooke was willing to teach techniques for free, and it was understandable that he was unwilling now.

But for some reason—

The blonde bartender overheard this and came over with a cigarette in her mouth, offering to teach Nicole how to bartend.

Frankly, this was a good thing. Nicole was happy, but Brooke was worried. The only downside was that the female bartender talked a lot. And even now, He Ye understands why she was willing to teach Nicole bartending back then.

"Men in this society are all unreliable. You have to rely on yourself. No matter what difficulties you face, those people are just sweet talkers when their hormones are raging. Once they lose interest, they'll show their true colors as beasts."

The blonde bartender exhaled a smoke ring, her eyes filled with a sense of world-weariness, and her long-winded discourse was filled with her philosophy of life. She was giving this naive girl a remarkable lesson.

He Ye, of course, wouldn't say anything about this, after all, she had taught Nicole how to bartend—and one's outlook on life isn't so easily shaped or changed.

"In this world, only money is reliable. If a man wants to pursue you, you can give up if he doesn't spend money on you on dates. That's a basic rule," the female bartender continued, sharing her life experience.

As soon as she finished speaking, Nicole, who was shaking the wine strainer, raised an eyebrow and asked out of curiosity, "Then, Miss Bena, can he spend my money?"

"Of course you should save all your money for yourself."

The blonde bartender said calmly and without a hint of doubt, throwing away the finished cigarette and extinguishing it in the ashtray.

He Ye, who was listening from the side, couldn't stand it any longer. He politely interrupted and asked, "Is it not adjusted yet, you two?"

"Oh, sir, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting! Your Bloody Mary!"

Nicole Griffiths realized she had been chatting for too long, so she quickly took out a glass, poured out a drink that looked like watermelon juice, and handed it over—it contained vodka, tomato juice, and Tabasco sauce.

This is Bella's signature cocktail, and the first one she taught Nicole was the "Bloody Mary." Although her outlook on life is somewhat peculiar, she's not a bad person.

He Ye took it and sipped it.

Not bad.

"Keep learning from Nicole, it's delicious."

He Ye sat opposite her, raised his glass, and praised her with a smile. Nicole's face immediately lit up with joy, and she patted her chest, promising that she would definitely study hard!
Hearing this, Brooke, who was wiping the wine strainer nearby, looked worried: "..."

In short, the bar, which is not yet open for business, is where He Ye, Nicole, and the original staff spend their time together. This is the fifth day, and there will be a sixth day. Perhaps this sparse and unchanging daily routine will continue for some time to come.

Other employees came down the stairs.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" Nicole beckoned.

"Trying to bribe me, you little rabbit?" the middle-aged foreman said sternly.

"Ouch!" Nicole crouched down, covering her head in defense, because the foreman loved to tap her on the head.

He Ye couldn't help but laugh out loud, as did the others who came down.

More and more staff members entered the bar, the sign indicating that it was open was turned upside down, some people were yawning, and others were walking around arranging chairs. He Ye knew that he couldn't slack off either, so he slowly put down his glass.

Someone was calling him.

"Hey, Leon! -- The only one missing from the Teens in Times group is you!" shouted the drummer, a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks, as he stood on the stage waving his drumsticks.

"Coming, coming," He Ye replied, picking up his guitar.

The Big Bird Spinning Bar officially opened for business, and customers gradually poured in. As night fell, the atmosphere became lively.

Until... the arrival of several unfamiliar faces.

(End of this chapter)