Isn't it very scientific to use the Death Note to kill people?

The reason given at the time was that they couldn't handle artificial intelligence and there was no need to continue wasting police resources... But what if the truth was that they didn't want them to continue investigating?

What the upper echelons used might not be Noah's Ark, but rather some other similar entity...

Amuro Tooru's gaze had become extremely serious.

As a police officer who infiltrated the organization, he was all too familiar with the intricate web of power and deals hidden at higher levels.

"Just do what you're good at, Furuya-senpai." Hayashi Yoshiki turned his head and gave Amuro a very faint, yet somewhat tired, smile. "Give me the information after the investigation, and I'll handle the rest."

Looking at the expression on his face, Amuro Tooru knew that he didn't want to discuss this matter. The light in his eyes flickered but eventually turned into a complex and heavy look.

He was silent for a moment, then finally nodded, looked ahead again, and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"I understand."

His voice regained its calmness, and composure once again took over: "I will verify the intelligence and send it to you as soon as possible."

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 elevator ascended smoothly and silently, the cold metal walls reflecting the woman's calm face, her heterochromatic eyes particularly striking.

Ding--

The elevator doors slid open quietly, revealing a quiet corridor covered with a thick carpet, at the end of which stood a heavy, soundproof wooden door.

Curaçao walked silently to the door, and finding it ajar, she gently pushed it open.

"come yet?"

A gentle voice rang out.

Curaçao's expression changed subtly, and astonishment appeared in her eyes.

Lin Jiashu... Jundu—He sat in the center of the living room on the large black leather sofa, wearing a white bathrobe with the belt loosely tied around his waist.

He casually rested one hand on the sofa armrest, a crystal glass between his fingers, the amber liquid inside swaying gently with his slight movements. His other hand was tucked into the thick, long hair of the woman kneeling in front of him, his fingers idly and lazily combing it.

The woman lay on the expensive carpet, her delicate face buried in front of Lin Jiashu. Her golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall, obscuring most of her features, with only occasional soft, wet sounds audible.

Curaçao had never felt her expression so stiff before. She stood blankly at the doorway, unsure whether to step inside.

"Go in."

A faint female voice quietly sounded behind Curaçao.

She gave the latter a light push on the shoulder, and Curaçao, caught off guard, stumbled forward two steps before finally regaining her footing in the middle of the living room.

She turned around in surprise.

Pu Siqinglan, who was standing behind her, was watching her with her arms crossed and a meaningful expression as if she were watching a show.

The woman on the sofa seemed startled by the commotion at the door. She paused for a moment, let out a disgruntled grumble, and slightly raised her head, revealing a beautiful face. She glanced at the intruder with displeasure, but after seeing that Lin Jiashu made no comment, she obediently continued.

"Sorry...did I scare you? I think I got a little too excited today."

"you……"

The scene I saw was completely different from the one I had seen in the church on that rainy night.

Curaçao was even a little dazed.

But Lin Jiashu seemed to give her no chance to think it over, and in this state, asked with unbelievable calmness:

"Does Rum have any information about you?"

“No, he won’t know.” Curaçao shook her head slightly. “I’m on an investigative mission right now, and he won’t pay any extra attention to me.”

"So... does Rum know about the task Gin gave me today?"

"...I don't know whether he knew about it personally, but the intelligence team's database has almost no record of why the organization targeted smuggling routes."

Lin Jiashu paused for a moment.

Amuro Tooru's statement that the brewery might be plotting something behind the scenes... he was indeed curious.

Let alone Japan's security, it would be incredibly easy for people from the brewery to smuggle themselves into any place.

At worst, Vermouth could just give someone a usable new face.

But what if the person who needs to be smuggled into the country can't easily have their face changed?

Lin Jiashu has not ruled out the possibility that Karasuma Renya's body regressed to that of an infant after removing the A drug... If it were him, there would indeed be no way to change his face.

But this speculation is far too far-fetched...

Lin Jiashu pondered quietly.

However, it's not impossible.

Admittedly, even if Karasuma Renya really turned into a baby, it would not be difficult for him to enter and exit the country through normal means. He has countless ways to legally travel by plane or other means of transportation.

But what if it's for concealment?

Whether he knew it or not, it was a fact that Rum had been secretly searching for his whereabouts... And unlike the proper way of entering and leaving the country, various "smuggling" methods can be absolutely secretive and leave no record.

But this idea might still be a bit of a pipe dream.

Lin Jiashu stopped worrying and asked about what he cared about more: "How about getting something like Rum's autograph?"

"...I'm sorry, Rum almost never uses pen and paper to record information, so I haven't been able to find an opportunity."

"It's okay, there's still plenty of time."

Lin Jiashu responded softly, "We can find another opportunity later."

"……Yes."

Curaçao nodded.

But at the same time, she was also puzzled. Why was Cointreau so obsessed with Rum's handwriting?

Is this going to be of any particular use?

Just then, Shimizu Reiko stopped moving.

She slightly raised her head, her long brown hair cascading messily around her cheeks, her lips moist and rosy.

She didn't leave Lin Jiashu's side immediately. Instead, in this extremely ambiguous position, she gently wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, then turned her head and looked at Curaçao with a satisfied and inquisitive gaze.

“Curaçao…”

Shimizu Reiko softly murmured her name, her voice slightly hoarse and joyful. Suddenly, as if remembering something, a cryptic smile appeared on her lips.

"...'Qing Shui Ling'?"

Curaçao's body tensed instantly.

Rei Shimizu… This false name, given and then torn apart, uttered from this woman's mouth carried an extremely unsettling sense of blasphemy.

She didn't answer, but her heterochromatic pupils coldly stared back at Shimizu Reiko.

Shimizu Reiko, however, didn't seem to care about her indifference at all.

After smoothing her long hair, she stood up without warning, her movements as fluid as a cat's. She walked straight towards Curaçao, who stood frozen in place, her steps carrying an aggressive elegance.

"Let me introduce myself, my name is Shimizu Reiko."

“…Shimizu?” Curaçao’s eyes immediately changed. Even though it was a false name… it still occupied a sunny corner in her heart.

"Yes, Shimizu... the two of us."

Curaçao frowned as she listened to her languid voice, which carried a strange chuckle.

But Shimizu Reiko suddenly reached out and cupped her face.

With a firm, irresistible force, he forced her to lower her head slightly.

The next second, Shimizu Reiko stood on tiptoe and pressed her moist lips, which carried a special scent, hard against Curaçao's cold, tightly closed lips!

Curaçao's eyes widened suddenly, her heterochromatic pupils filled with disbelief, shock, and a momentary panic.

Chapter 30: You'll get used to it, or you can choose to refuse next time.

Curaçao's eyes widened suddenly, her heterochromatic pupils filled with disbelief, shock, and a momentary panic. She tried to struggle, but Shimizu Reiko's hands held her head firmly like iron clamps.

An irresistible, almost musky scent was transferred into her mouth.

That's... the scent of Yoshiki Hayashi! It's the scent that Shimizu Reiko had just absorbed from him, and now she's forcibly sharing it with her—

"Well……!"

Curaçao let out a short, suppressed groan, feeling a wave of nausea churning in her stomach, but more than that, she felt a violent shock of being utterly violated and defiled.

Her mind went blank; all her training and composure completely failed her at that moment.

This process actually only takes two or three seconds.

Shimizu Reiko quickly released her, and even stuck out her tongue and slid her finger across it, a gesture that was full of lewdness.

She looked at Curaçao's suddenly pale face, filled with shock and humiliation, and a cruel, gleeful smile appeared on her own face.

“This way…we’re more like sisters, aren’t we? ‘Shimizu’…” she murmured, her tone laced with a venomous intimacy.

Curaçao took a step back abruptly, instinctively wiping her lips hard with the back of her hand. Her body trembled slightly, and for the first time, a clear and cold killing intent flashed in her heterochromatic eyes, shooting straight at Shimizu Reiko.

Throughout the entire process, Lin Jiashu remained quietly seated on the sofa, his posture barely changing. He watched everything unfold before him, his face still bearing that gentle, seemingly detached expression.

Curaçao stood rooted to the spot, unable to ignore the lingering sensation of being forcibly violated on her lips and the nauseating taste. Her gaze swept over the gentle-looking Hayashi Yoshiki, the smiling Shimizu Reiko like a poisonous flower, and the coldly observing Urashi Seiran... A tremendous sense of chaos, disgust, and a deep feeling of being manipulated almost consumed her.

This man...this place...the people...

Curaçao rubbed her lips hard with the back of her hand, as if trying to scrape off the nauseating touch and taste.

In her heterochromatic eyes, a chilling killing intent intertwined with intense chaos, and Shimizu Reiko's cruelly gleeful smile felt like needles pricking her nerves.

Just as Curaçao was about to lose control of the surging nausea and murderous intent, Lin Jiashu finally made a move.

He didn't get up, but leaned forward slightly and pulled out a few soft tissues from the low table next to the sofa.

Then, Lin Jiashu extended his hand to Curaçao, looking at her calmly, his voice as gentle as ever, but with a hint of barely perceptible apology:

"Come here."

His voice wasn't loud, but it strangely pierced through Curaçao's chaotic thoughts and the unsettling sounds around him.

Curaçao looked up at him abruptly, her eyes filled with wariness and lingering humiliation.

Lin Jiashu didn't urge him, but simply maintained the posture of handing out the tissue, his eyes gentle yet firm, as if patiently waiting for a frightened little animal to come over on its own.

Shimizu Reiko, standing to the side, raised an eyebrow, gave a soft hum, turned and walked towards the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a glass of wine. Urashi Seiran, on the other hand, remained standing there, seemingly ready to watch the show unfold.

Some unseen force, perhaps the contrast created by that unusual gentleness and tranquility, or perhaps the promises he made in the church on that rainy night, caused Curaçao's tense body to relax slightly.

She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward.

Only when Curaçao was within his reach did Lin Jiashu extend his hand, without touching her, but gently placing a soft tissue next to her hand that was still desperately wiping her lips.

"It will feel better if you wipe it."

He spoke softly, his tone devoid of judgment or mockery, only pure, problem-solving calm.

Curaçao's face remained stiff, but she took the tissues without hesitation and vigorously and repeatedly wiped her lips until her delicate lips turned slightly red.

Lin Jiashu watched her do all this quietly, then picked up a white rose that he had placed aside earlier, which Curaçao had not noticed, and handed it to her.

"Reiko's behavior was extremely offensive."

His voice remained steady. "She always likes to assert her presence in such a childish way, and it's also possible that the nickname 'Shimizu' caused her misunderstanding. I'm sorry."

But it's clearly impossible to make Curaçao forget about this with such a flimsy excuse.

She looked at the delicate, dewy white roses offered to her, then at Lin Jiashu's unfathomable yet unusually honest eyes, and did not take them.

"That vase of flowers over there."

Lin Jiashu looked out the window, where a bouquet of lilies of the valley, recently placed in an elegant vase, sat. "That's what was prepared for you... Anyway, welcome back."

Curaçao's gaze shifted between the vase of white flowers and the single rose in his hand.

The room was so quiet that the only sound was the air conditioner running.

After a long while,

The deep-seated longing for Nie's free identity and her love for flowers eventually made the intense nausea and murderous intent in her heart gradually subside, replaced by a complex emotion that she could not describe.

She slowly, almost cautiously, reached out and took the white rose.