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

He doesn't need to show his face.

Or rather, he absolutely cannot show his face here now.

Lin Jiashu glanced at the inconspicuous camera not far away and smiled calmly.

Chapter 101: Movements

Inside the FBI headquarters, there was a deathly silence.

The last sound coming through the communicator was Carmel's painful groan and the sound of his body falling to the ground; after that, the earpiece was violently destroyed.

But they could hear all of this clearly.

From the moment Carmel was driven to the brink, to his attempt to resist but being subdued, and finally being knocked unconscious and taken away... the whole process was like a brutal live broadcast, laying bare their powerlessness and despair before everyone.

Gin and his men did not kill Carmel on the spot, but chose to capture him alive. Their purpose was self-evident—to torture him.

They wanted to pry the location of the stronghold, the whereabouts of Naomi Algent, and the lives of all of them out of Carmel!

A heavy, almost suffocating silence enveloped the entire room, the air thick as congealed blood.

“Carmel…Mark…Bill…David…”

A young-looking agent could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground, his hands buried deep in his hair. He murmured the names of his fallen and captured comrades over and over again, his voice choked with sobs, filled with helplessness and unfathomable grief.

boom!

Another hot-tempered detective slammed his fist into the wall next to him, making a dull thud. A shallow dent and a few bloodstains were left on the snow-white wall.

His eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving violently, and he gritted his teeth but could not vent the anger and frustration that was about to burst him out of his chest.

Conan lowered his head, his face full of self-reproach and solemnity.

He was involved in the planning, and although it wasn't entirely his fault that the trap was seen through, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of guilt and helplessness as he watched his comrades being slaughtered and captured because the plan failed.

"We can't just let this go!"

The detective who had been pounding on the wall suddenly looked up, his eyes burning with the flames of revenge. "Carmel is alive! We have to save him! We can't let him fall into the hands of those bastards!"

These words were like a spark falling into an oil drum, instantly igniting the anger and resentment in the hearts of others.

"Yes! Go save him!"

"We can't abandon our comrades!"

"Let's fight those guys!"

The crowd was filled with righteous indignation, and for a time, the stronghold was filled with tragic and impulsive shouts.

"Calm down, everyone!"

Just then, a tired yet unusually calm voice rang out, drowning out all the noise.

James Black had closed his eyes at some point. He took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale all the despair and anger in the room into his lungs and then slowly exhale.

He slowly took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose repeatedly and forcefully, trying to dispel the headache that felt like it was about to explode.

"Save them? How?"

His voice was hoarse, yet carried an undeniable calmness. "We don't even know where Camer has been taken! Who is this organization? Since they captured Camer alive, wouldn't they have considered that we might try to rescue him? This could very well be... another trap waiting for us to walk right into it!"

His words were like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the impulsive fervor of some. Everyone fell silent, their faces a mixture of resentment and the coldness of reality.

James put his glasses back on, his gaze sweeping over every face etched with pain and confusion, and finally made his decision:

“More urgent than that is to relocate immediately! This base… is probably no longer safe.”

He paused, then added in a heavy tone, "I have no doubt about Cameron's loyalty and will; he will do everything in his power to protect our information. But... we are facing a group of ruthless demons, and we cannot entrust everyone's safety entirely to whether Cameron can withstand torture."

"We must act immediately to destroy all sensitive data and evacuate from here."

James's somber speech and rational evacuation order echoed within the base. Although most of the agents were grief-stricken, they silently began to carry out the orders.

Some agents have already begun sorting through the files and documents stored in the space.

Everyone is moving.

Judy Starling, however, remained silent, her head bowed, her golden hair falling down to conceal the turbulent emotions churning in her eyes.

(How could those guys have it so easy...)

This thought gnawed at her heart like a venomous snake.

From the initial attack on the agents, to the trap being easily seen through and used against them, to the precise elimination of the external team, and finally to the capture of Cameron alive... at every step, the other side seemed to have foreseen everything and saw through their actions clearly.

All of this was almost leading to the conclusion that there was a mole within the base.

Her gaze was fixed on James Black, who had just been giving orders. She should have acted sooner. She should have been more vigilant when Shuichi's suspicions and Mr. Lin's hints came, instead of clinging to that ridiculous... wishful thinking that she couldn't believe her companions had betrayed her!

It was her hesitation and weakness that led to Cameron's imprisonment and the sacrifice of more comrades! Intense guilt and self-blame burned through her body like magma.

She could no longer stand idly by. She couldn't bear to watch Carmel suffer in the organization's torture chambers while they fled in panic like frightened mice!

"Judy?"

James noticed her unusual behavior, walked over to her, and asked with concern, "What's wrong? We need to prepare for an immediate evacuation."

Judy abruptly raised her head, her gaze sharp, looking directly at James. The trust she once held was gone from her eyes; instead, scrutiny and hatred were hidden within them.

Her voice, though soft, broke the hustle and bustle of the stronghold with unusual firmness: "James, I cannot accept the order to retreat, I cannot accept just sitting idly by and watching Carmel."

James fell silent, his eyes behind his glasses flickering slightly... Judy's words came at just the right time for him.

Her words were the perfect pretext.

But on the surface, he sighed heavily, his face showing an expression of understanding mixed with helplessness:

“Judy, I understand how you feel. Carmel is our comrade, and we all want to save him. But as you saw, we just suffered heavy losses. With our current strength, we are simply not capable of confronting that organization head-on. Acting rashly will only cause greater losses…”

But then he changed the subject, as if after a difficult internal struggle, and added: "However... you're right, we really can't just do nothing and give up on Carmel."

His gaze slowly shifted to Naomi Algent, who stood anxiously in the corner, his tone tinged with anticipation:

“Miss Naomi, perhaps… now is the time to use the system you developed. Could we use your cross-age tracking system to try and find the route by which Carmel was taken away, or pinpoint the location where they might be holding him?”

All eyes immediately turned to Naomi Algent.

Naomi Algent was taken aback by the sudden question. She nodded instinctively at first, but then, as if remembering a crucial restriction, she quickly shook her head vigorously, a troubled and anxious look on her face.

"The system itself is usable, but... there is a big problem."

She took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts as she explained, “The powerful tracking capabilities of the tests and demonstrations I conducted at the Pacific Buoy were built on the foundation of the Pacific Buoy facility itself! It is through its connection and mobilization of a global database of police cameras and massive cloud computing power that we were able to achieve that near real-time, wide-range, accurate cross-age identification and tracking.”

She glanced around at the expectant gazes, her voice tinged with apology and helplessness: "Right now, we only have the core algorithm and some functional modules of the system, lacking the database support of 'Pacific Buoy'... It's like having the most advanced engine but not enough fuel and a runway... I... I'm afraid it will be difficult to achieve the results of the previous demonstration..."

Naomi Algent's explanation was like a bucket of cold water poured over everyone's heads.

After a brief silence, James Black finally stepped forward.

"I'll think of a way."

He said.

After drawing everyone's attention, he adjusted his glasses and calmly reassured them:

"After the last kidnapping of Ms. Naomi, the Pacific Buoy facility itself was not officially shut down or abandoned. It's just that all the turmoil was suppressed by various forces, but the underlying architecture and database should still be there."

"I'll see if I can use my connections with Interpol to try and get temporary access."

"After all, rescuing our own agents and fighting international criminal organizations was one of the original intentions behind the establishment of this system."

His words gave Naomi Algent a glimmer of hope.

The "Pacific Buoy" project has indeed not been halted.

After all, no facilities were blown up this time, and this is an international cooperation project after all... It would be too embarrassing for Hachijojima to just finish data exchange with Frankfurt and then turn around and slink away, saying they're stopping the project.

James Black walked to a relatively quiet corner with his phone in hand, deliberately keeping a distance from the other agents.

Judy Starling watched his retreating figure in silence, wondering what her once highly respected boss was thinking at that moment.

(What exactly is he planning?)

(Even if he sells out Carmel's location, or even the location of our base, to the organization, what real benefit would it bring him?)

(Will that organization give him more money? More power? Or...?)

She recalled the agents who had been killed in the past, and the organization's overly precise attacks.

The deaths of one Carmel and several agents could not satisfy his deal with that organization.

Unless Carmel himself, or rather this rescue operation, has some other, more important value for him...

But what exactly is it?

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.

In the dimly lit room, only a few monitors emitted a faint blue light, illuminating Rum's face, which was slightly distorted with excitement.

James Black’s encrypted communications indicated that the channel was about to be established, a message that surprisingly made him both excited and nervous.

(Finally... I can test that system!)

Since confirming that the little girl named Ai Haibara was most likely Sherry who had been rejuvenated after taking APTX-4869, his confidence in the cross-age recognition system developed by Naomi Algent reached its peak.

The value of this system is beyond doubt. What's needed now is simply a sufficiently significant testing target and opportunity.

He took a deep breath, suppressed his turbulent emotions, scanned the empty room with his one eye, and called out in a deep voice, "Bring Curaçao to see me."

Before long, Curaçao, dressed in a black outfit that allowed for easy movement, appeared in front of Rum.

"Get ready, you have a new mission. You need to set off immediately to infiltrate the 'Pacific Buoy' facility on Hachijojima Island."

Curaçao's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, but quickly returned to calm.

"Submerge into a Pacific buoy? What's the objective?"

"We need the computing power and database support there to conduct a crucial test."

Rum did not specify the details of the test.

"Someone from the FBI will create an opportunity for us to access the system. I'll give you more specific details about the mission later... Before that, I'll send you the infiltration instructions to your phone. Remember, don't let me down, Curaçao."

"Yes."

Curaçao said no more and quickly left the room.

Looking in the direction she disappeared, Rum's one eye refocused on the blurry photo of Karasuma Renya in her youth on his phone.

He and James were ultimately just allies.

He didn't want James to monopolize the information about Karasuma Renya's whereabouts and use it to hinder him... so he needed a trustworthy person present to provide feedback.

Looking at the gloomy face in the photo, Rum gave a cold laugh.

(It's almost here...it's almost here...as long as the system successfully verifies your identity, finds you, and replaces you, it will no longer be an unattainable dream!)

The dark blue light from the screen made his face, filled with fervor and ambition, appear like that of a demon returned from hell.

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.

"Let me get off here."

"I have no interest in torture. Just let me know when you have any news."

Nights approaching 11 pm

When the classic vintage car reached the edge of a quiet residential area, Lin Jiashu got out of the car.

Although Chianti kept clamoring for him to stay and go grab some late-night snacks, Lin Jiashu ruthlessly declined.

After turning his back and leaving, out of Gin's and the others' sight, he glanced at the message from Curaçao and dialed Vermouth's number.

"Damn it... what's so great about hamburgers anyway? I'm not even interested in having one as a late-night snack?"

Staring resentfully at Lin Jiashu's retreating figure, Chianti really wanted to grab a stick, knock him unconscious, and take him away.

“Jun Du has no interest in late-night snacks, probably not because he just filled his stomach,” Cohen said in a flat tone.

"What other reason could there be?"

"...Look for it within yourself."

"what!?"