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

Fujiko put away the mask, took a sip of her coffee, leaned back lazily in her chair, and scrutinized Reiko Shimizu with a critical gaze.

She could tell that the woman in front of her was not as innocent and pure as she appeared; the ambition and scheming in her eyes could not be hidden from her.

"That might be very expensive~ But if you need a one-time disguise, I can give you a discount while I'm still in Japan."

Fujiko Mine waved his hand with a smile.

Seeing that she seemed a bit perfunctory, Shimizu Reiko didn't mind and exchanged contact information with her while smiling.

After that, Fujiko Mine said no more, picked up her briefcase full of cash and stood up: "Thank you to your boss for me. It was a pleasure working with you. I hope there will be another easy job like this next time."

She winked at Shimizu Reiko, turned and swayed her hips like a mermaid as she left the cafe, quickly disappearing into the crowd around the street corner.

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.

"Hmph, Gin... what's with the airs?"

Upon seeing the text message from Vodka, Binga scoffed and casually tossed his phone onto the passenger seat.

In his view, Gin only climbed to his current position because of his seniority and good luck. In terms of ability and methods, Binga might not be much worse, especially since he has Lord Rum's appreciation behind him.

His goal has always been to bring Gin down.

Despite his displeasure, Gin's current rank and influence remained, so outward cooperation was still necessary. He wanted to see what tricks Gin was up to by summoning him so hastily.

He started the car and drove to the agreed meeting place—an abandoned dock warehouse, a typical meeting place in the organizational style.

After parking the car, Binga casually walked into the dimly lit warehouse.

Gin was already waiting there, his back to the door. His tall figure looked particularly sinister in the beams of light shining through the gaps in the warehouse ceiling. Vodka stood behind him like a loyal shadow.

"Hey, Gin, why are you in such a hurry to see me? Is there some important mission that requires your personal instruction?"

Binga, hands in his pockets, continued walking, his tone undisguisedly flippant and slightly provocative.

Gin slowly turned around, his dark green eyes gleaming coldly in the shadows, like a venomous snake eyeing its prey. He didn't immediately answer Binga's question, but instead scrutinized him with that intensely intimidating gaze, a suffocating silence filling the air.

“Binga,” Gin finally spoke, his voice low and slow, each word as if pulled from an ice cellar, “you seem quite pleased with yourself.”

"what?"

Judging from his reaction, he was indeed somewhat puzzled.

What's wrong with Gin?

However, if he had to be proud of anything, he had at least successfully completed the organization's mission and obtained the cross-age tracking system.

He chuckled, "To be honest, I'm quite pleased with myself... After all, that Sherry you accidentally let go back then, isn't there some progress on her now? I heard she's even entangled with that Jundu you value so much. Gin, thanks to this system, you've been able to fill in the gaps! How does it feel?"

Gin's eyes instantly became even more dangerous: "So this is the problem, why does that woman have Sherry's cross-age identification photo on her body?"

"Huh?" Binga paused for a moment, as if he had heard something out of the blue, then gave an absurd look. "How would I know? What's on that woman's USB drive is none of my business."

"Don't you know you've done something wrong?"

What the heck?

Gin's words left Binga momentarily stunned. After a long pause, he reacted with a furious laugh, pointing at Gin: "Heh...heh...Gin! You're trying to shift the blame, aren't you? You couldn't keep an eye on your subordinates, couldn't handle Sherry, and now you want to pin it on me? I didn't realize you'd resort to such underhanded tactics as framing someone!"

"Framed?" Gin sneered, his patience completely exhausted. "You spent so much of the organization's manpower and resources, and in the end, all you brought back was such a useless system that only produces junk information! That alone is enough for me to execute you, Binga!"

He slowly raised his hand, the muzzle of Beretta's gun gleaming coldly in the dim light. Although it wasn't directly pointed at Binga, the threat it conveyed was palpable.

"A garbage system?!"

Binga stared at the dark muzzle of the gun, his eyes hardening. Far from backing down, he straightened his back even more arrogantly, a twisted smile of anger and mockery spreading across his face. "Based on your baseless suspicion? Gin, are you afraid? Afraid I'll take your place? So you're trying to get rid of me with some random excuse? Let me tell you, Lord Rum won't allow you to do that!"

“Rum?” Gin seemed to have heard something utterly ridiculous, a cruel smile curving his lips. “He can barely protect himself, how can he protect you? Useless system, plus your attempts to sow discord… Binga, your little tricks end here.”

Before he finished speaking, Gin's finger on the trigger twitched slightly!

Binga's pupils contracted sharply. He hadn't expected Gin to actually dare to disregard Rum's feelings and attack directly! His strong will to survive made him instinctively lunge to the side and back, while simultaneously reaching into his pocket to draw his gun.

However, Gin's killing intent was already made up, and he acted even faster!

boom!

A gunshot shattered the silence of the warehouse.

The bullet didn't hit Binga's vitals, but rather precisely pierced the barrel of the pistol he had just pulled out. The enormous impact caused the weapon to fly out of his hand and land in a pile of debris some distance away.

Binga gripped his wrist, which was still numb from the shock, and looked at Gin with a mixture of shock and anger.

"It seems you're determined to kill me!" Binga gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with venom.

“I told you, you deserve to die.” Gin’s tone was flat, and this time the muzzle of Beretta’s gun was firmly pointed at Binga’s forehead. “A piece of trash who wastes the organization’s resources, you have no value.”

Vodka watched nervously from the side, barely daring to breathe.

At this critical moment, Binga suddenly darted behind a pile of abandoned shipping containers, trying to use the obstacle to cover himself.

Gin's eyes turned cold, and without hesitation, he pulled the trigger repeatedly!

boom! boom! boom!

Bullets chased after Binga's figure, striking the metal of the container and scattering blinding sparks.

Gunfire erupted inside the warehouse.

Just as Gin's gaze followed Binga's head—

Da da da da da da—!

The rusty iron gate on the other side of the warehouse was suddenly smashed open, and several scorching tongues of fire, accompanied by the deafening sound of automatic weapons firing, poured in! Bullets rained down on the spot where Gin and Vodka had been standing, sending sparks flying and cement fragments flying everywhere.

"What?!" Vodka exclaimed in horror, scrambling to the nearby container for cover.

Gin reacted extremely quickly, realizing something was wrong a moment before the gunshot rang out, he rolled to the side to avoid the fatal barrage, but the cold killing intent in his eyes was almost overflowing.

He looked at the intruders—a group of well-trained, well-equipped gunmen with fierce firepower and coordinated actions, clearly not an ordinary force.

When Binga, who was originally at his wit's end, saw this group of uninvited guests, he was strangely not panicked, even though he had no idea that they were clearing the way. Instead, a hint of ruthlessness and determination flashed in his eyes.

Without hesitation, he abandoned his fight with Gin and, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the suppressive fire, dashed towards the group of assassins.

The assassins immediately diverted some of their firepower to cover Binga's retreat, while simultaneously converging even more intensely on the positions where Gin and Vodka were hiding. The situation instantly reversed, and Gin and Vodka were suppressed by the overwhelming firepower, barely able to raise their heads.

"Big brother! What do we do?!" Vodka shouted anxiously from behind the container, listening to the ear-piercing sound of bullets hitting metal.

Gin leaned against the cold shipping container, his face showing no panic, only the chill of someone provoked by an ant. He slowly pulled a communicator from the inside pocket of his trench coat, pressed a button, and uttered only one word:

"Let's do it!"

Just as the assassins thought victory was assured and began to surround Gin and Vodka in a fan shape, preparing to completely annihilate them—

boom!

A muffled yet penetrating gunshot, distinct from that of an automatic rifle, came from a high window in the distance of the warehouse!

An assassin who was advancing with a submachine gun suddenly had his head explode like a smashed watermelon, splattering blood and flesh all over the face of his companion!

Chapter 86: This time, it's my turn to protect you, Jundu

"Sniper! There's an ambush!"

Panic-stricken shouts rang out from the assassins' ranks.

The sniper's appearance instantly threw their formation into chaos.

boom!

boom!

Two more precise sniper shots in quick succession—

One assassin, trying to find cover, was shot through the chest by a bullet that pierced through the thin metal of a container, while another was shot in the head and fell to the ground as soon as he raised his gun!

The spent cartridge cases clattered and rolled to the ground as they were ejected from the magazine. Chianti licked his lips and grinned, savoring the feel of death.

The feeling of shooting and killing to your heart's content is absolutely exhilarating!

Perhaps he had anticipated the possible changes, or perhaps it was simply to kill Binga, Gin had arranged for Chianti to be here all along.

The sudden, precise long-range strike caught the intruding assassins completely off guard.

Their original firepower advantage vanished under the unseen muzzle of snipers, and they instantly fell into a state of panic and passive defense.

"hateful!"

Binga, who was almost at the warehouse entrance, turned around and saw this scene, his face turning extremely ugly. He hadn't expected Gin to have such a trick up his sleeve!

Taking advantage of the moment when the assassins were being suppressed by Chianti and were in disarray, Gin suddenly emerged from behind cover. His Beretta was like the Grim Reaper's roll call, calmly and efficiently picking off the assassins who had exposed themselves.

Vodka was not intimidated at all and provided covering fire.

Inside the warehouse, gunshots, screams, and the clatter of bullets mingled together, creating a bloody symphony.

Just when the battle seemed to be turning in one direction, Binga, who had been waiting for an opportunity, seized the brief moment when Gin hid behind cover to change his magazine.

Unlike the others who sought sturdy cover, he had already noticed Chianti's location. Taking advantage of Chianti's attention being focused on the others, he stealthily approached Gin's flank, using the shadows of several abandoned wooden crates as cover.

Gin had just slammed the new magazine into the gun handle when he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Almost instinctively, he leaned back sharply without hesitation!

boom!

Almost simultaneously, Binga sprang out of the shadows, having somehow produced a spare compact pistol, and fired it ruthlessly at Gin's upper body!

He aimed his shot at Gin's heart on his side.

However, Gin's superhuman intuition and reaction speed prompted his body to react first. His rapid backward movement allowed him to avoid a fatal blow, but the bullet still tore through the muscles on the outside of his left arm, drawing out a splash of blood.

The black trench coat fabric was instantly soaked, sticking stickily to his arms.

Despite the excruciating pain, Gin didn't even flinch. His right hand remained as steady as a rock, and Beretta, as she lost her balance and fell backward, had already lifted up—

boom!

The retaliatory bullet struck Binga directly in the right shoulder, causing half of his body to lurch and emitting a muffled groan.

Binga's heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he had lost his only chance, he dared not linger in the fight. Taking advantage of the brief moment of hesitation after Gin was shot and the opportunity when Vodka was held back by the remaining enemies on the other side, he turned around and ran wildly toward the warehouse door like a stray dog.

There's a car right there!

"Chianti!"

Gin steadied himself, ignoring the bleeding wound on his left arm, and coldly ordered into the communicator, "Kill him!"

From a high vantage point in the distance, Chianti locked onto Binga's sprinting figure through a high-powered sniper scope, the crimson crosshair firmly positioned over his back.

She licked her lips, a bloodthirsty smile spreading across her face, and slowly pulled her finger toward the trigger—

咔

A slight, unexpected hollow click from the firing pin.

Chianti's smile froze instantly.

She jerked the magazine out and saw it was empty! She had fired too rapidly to suppress the assassins, and had run out of ammunition at the crucial moment!

"Grass!"

She cursed under her breath and frantically grabbed a new magazine from the ammunition box at her feet, loading it as quickly as possible.

In those few short seconds, Binga had already scrambled to his car, opened the door, and climbed in, the engine roaring to life!

Chianti readjusted his gun, but Binga's car had already shot off like an arrow!

Chianti quickly raised the muzzle of his gun.

However, Binga already knew her sniping position from her multiple attacks. Instead of fleeing in a straight line, he cunningly drove close to a row of low factory buildings on the outer edge of the warehouse, using the buildings as cover to perfectly avoid Chianti's sniping line of sight!

"No, I've lost my sniping angle!"

Chianti's unwilling and frustrated voice came through the communicator.

Gin watched the taillights of the Binga disappear around the corner of the warehouse district, his face so gloomy it could drip water.

The wound on my left arm throbbed with pain from anger.

"Brother, your injury..."

Vodka dealt with the last remaining assassin and rushed over, panicking when he saw Gin's bleeding arm.

Gin didn't speak, but coldly tore open the lining of his trench coat and, using his teeth and right hand, deftly and skillfully wrapped the cloth tightly around the wound to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. The whole process only caused his facial muscles to twitch slightly.