I'm in Detective Conan, and I start with the Grand Theft Auto system.

Inside a private club, the lights were dim, and the air was filled with the aroma of alcohol and cigars.

After Vermouth and her group left, they went straight here.

This is a hideout and quiet base of the organization in Tokyo, where no one will come to investigate.

Gin sat on a leather sofa in the corner, a glass of whiskey in front of him.

He glanced at the people who pushed the door open and entered, his gaze indifferent, but the atmosphere was tense.

Vermouth walked to the bar, poured herself a drink, took a swig, and then said, "In short, the enemy was too strong. We were no match for them, so we retreated."

She spoke with such confidence that she showed no sign of the guilt one would expect from someone whose mission had failed.

Rena Mizunashi stood to the side, her tone tinged with apology: "I'm sorry, my information wasn't detailed enough, and my preparations weren't thorough enough."

Chianti leaned against the wall, her voice tinged with resentment: "I'm just a sniper; I shouldn't have been assigned to protect people in the first place."

"I'd rather send you to kill someone!"

"Aren't you making things difficult for me by putting me in a situation of direct conflict?"

Cohen didn't speak, but nodded seriously, indicating his complete agreement.

Vodka, listening to them each offering their own excuses, finally exploded: "Big Brother!"

"Don't listen to those bastards! They're just scared!"

"There was only one person on the other end; I don't know what they're afraid of!"

"If they really fight, it's hard to say who will win or lose!"

When Gin heard "alone," he frowned: "Just one person?"

He swept his displeased gaze across everyone present.

Can one person force you to back down?

There were five of you, one on the other side, and then you ran away?

Vermouth rolled her eyes in annoyance: "Why don't you ask who did it first?"

"It's Lin Shen!"

"This guy took a job from the CIA, got paid to do their bidding, and it just so happens that we ran into each other."

Gin's expression was quite interesting.

His brows instantly relaxed.

The wrinkles have stopped, and the questions have been dropped.

That icy expression even seemed to indicate a sigh of relief.

If their opponent is Lin Shen... then their retreat would be understandable.

Let alone those guys, even if he himself ran into Lin Shen, he would give way and stay as far away as possible.

He's not out of his mind, why would he provoke a madman who might pull out C4 and blow it up at any time?

Moreover, these people are all in it for the money.

You want them to risk their lives against Lin Shen just to complete the mission?

You're dreaming.

If they're really pushed to that point, they can pack their things and run away overnight!

Gin picked up his glass, took a sip, and said in an unusually gentle tone, "It's him? Never mind then."

"You're just unlucky to have run into a lunatic. The mission failed, so be it."

Vermouth and the others exchanged glances, visibly relieved.

Gin isn't the kind of person who's stubborn; he won't force things if he knows they're impossible.

But Vodka was clearly still not satisfied.

He frowned, his voice low: "Brother, are we just going to let this go? If we do nothing, won't it make us look like we're afraid of him?"

Gin glanced at him.

His gaze carried a calm indifference, as if he were used to Vodka's thoughtless remarks.

He calmly put down his glass, his tone indifferent: "Since you disagree, then go and kill him."

Vodka opened his mouth, his expression froze, and his voice rose eight octaves: "Me? Me, go and kill Lin Shen?"

He swallowed hard. "Brother, when did you learn to joke around?"

Vermouth chuckled, her tone unabashedly mocking: "Vodka, looks like you do have some brains after all."

"There's nothing shameful about running away when you can't win."

Vodka glared at her, but didn't argue.

He really didn't dare.

That guy was more than just "dangerous" in his mind.

That's a walking powder keg. Before it even starts, it doesn't even say "I'm going to do it." It just explodes without warning and then laughs afterward!

He's a pervert!!

Gin ignored the vodka and turned his gaze to Vermouth, Rena Mizunashi, and Chianti. He paused for a moment, then spoke: "Vermouth, Kir."

"You two, go and investigate Lin Shen, see just how close this guy is to the CIA."

Vermouth put down her glass and nodded. "Understood."

Rena Mizunashi nodded in agreement, "Understood."

Upon hearing this, Chianti stomped her foot in dissatisfaction: "You just looked at me, didn't you? Why did you exclude me? Huh?"

"Do you look down on me? Do you think I'm not as pretty as them? Or do you think I'm incompetent?"

Gin didn't respond to that question, but simply said, "It's alright, everyone go back."

Chianti wanted to argue, but seeing Gin's "this topic is over" expression, she could only swallow her words and grumble as she walked out.

"Pah! What kind of person is he... I think he just looks down on me!"

Cohen, unusually, followed behind her and said, "Chianti, you need to know your place."

Chianti turned and glared at him. "What do you mean? Explain yourself! Do you also think I'm not good enough?"

Cohen shut his mouth, lowered his head, and quickly took a few steps.

Chianti chased after him relentlessly.

........................

The U.S. Embassy, ​​Smith's office.

Smith sat behind his desk, his face as gloomy as if it were about to rain.

He held a report in his hand, and after reading it, he slammed it on the table, his voice filled with barely suppressed anger:

"I told you to kill one person, not to kill everyone!"

Lin Shen sat in the chair opposite him, legs crossed, holding a cup of tea. He blew on it to cool it down and slowly took a sip. "Didn't you say we could kill a few more?"

Smith's face turned green: "I told you to kill a few more, not to kill them all!!"

"Do you know how many people died at this scene? Thirty-seven! Thirty-seven! Do you think this is killing chickens?"

Lin Shen put down his teacup and spread his hands: "I did this all to keep it a secret."

"Think about it, if I kill them all, then no one will know it was me who did it, right?"

Smith thought about it and suddenly realized that there was some truth to it: "Are you sure there were no survivors? That no one saw your face?"

Lin Shen nodded, his tone resolute: "Don't worry, I've even taken care of the surveillance footage."

Smith's expression softened considerably after hearing what he said.

He let out a long sigh, leaned back in his chair, and waved his hand: "Fine, fine... Anyway, no matter how this is settled, no one will blame the CIA."

He opened the drawer, took out a check, placed it on the table, and pushed it over: "Mr. Lin's performance this time was even better than I expected."

"Here's $100,000. Take it. Let's pretend this never happened."

Lin Shen raised an eyebrow slightly: "Oh? There's money to be made? Then I won't be polite."

He reached for the check, folded it, and put it in his pocket.

Smith watched him accept the check, and finally a smile appeared on his face for the first time that day: "Of course. We in the CIA have always treated our partners with great sincerity."

"If something similar happens again in the future, maybe we can continue to cooperate." Lin Shen laughed and patted his pocket. "No problem! Just come to me with these kinds of things in the future, and I guarantee I'll handle them perfectly!"

The two shook hands again, and the atmosphere seemed very harmonious.

Smith pressed the call bell on the table and had someone send Lin Shen out.

The footsteps faded into the distance, and the office door closed softly.

Then, the bathroom door opened.

Four CIA agents wearing bulletproof vests walked out of there.

They were all holding guns, with the muzzles pointing towards the ground.

One of them walked up to Smith, frowning, and asked in a puzzled tone, "Sir, weren't you saying you were going to kill him? Why did you just let him go? And even gave him some money?"

Smith leaned back in his chair, picked up his now-cold coffee, took a sip, and said slowly, "President Lin is much more capable than I imagined."

"He's decisive and efficient, without dragging things out. Look, he took care of everyone on that floor, and we didn't even have to clean up the mess."

He paused for a moment, then said, "The entire action team is injured and can't be of any use for the time being. Let him do the work for us for now."

The agent was still somewhat dissatisfied: "But he's an outsider, what if something goes wrong..."

Smith glanced at him. "Fine, kill him. You'll be transferred to the field department. Are you in?"

The CIA officer's expression immediately changed, and he fell silent.

Running fieldwork? Who in their right mind would do fieldwork?

Exposed to the elements, there's not much profit to be made!

Only people without connections would do fieldwork!

Sitting in an office is so comfortable, with air conditioning on, you can easily make money by selling some information!

He immediately changed his tune, saying, "The commander is indeed very insightful!"