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

He contacted Jundu at this moment partly because he had something to discuss with him, and partly because of an order from that gentleman—he directly commanded that this mission required Jundu to be brought over.

Gin is indeed a hyena loyal to Karasuma Renya.

However, he knew nothing about Karasuma Renya's current situation or where he was hiding... As for the accident that happened in Beika Town 5-chome that afternoon, although it was judged as an accident by the undercover agents, it can be basically determined that it was undoubtedly the work of Kimito.

This made Karasuma Renya feel somewhat uneasy.

He certainly didn't believe that Kondo had discovered his condition, but the fact that this troublesome fellow had indiscriminately killed someone right in front of his own house annoyed Karasuma Renya. However, he couldn't show it, so he could only order Gin to take this mentally unstable guy aside and let him play.

Although Gin felt somewhat uncomfortable with Karasuma Renya's special mention, the other party's order was not to be questioned.

That's why he came knocking on the door at this time.

At this moment, Lin Jiashu smiled in a cryptic manner.

"So you called specifically for more than just to check on my hobbies, right? What's up?"

"The FBI's base is in sight; now we need your skills."

"So sudden?" Lin Jiashu's voice sounded a little surprised.

"The intelligence came from Rum's side. The FBI is currently hiding in an abandoned chemical plant on the border between Saitama Prefecture and Tokyo, where they have set up a temporary command center. Naomi Algent is very likely hiding there."

Gin casually revealed the source of the intelligence: "That guy has always been very good at dealing with the FBI. He has a mole he's been keeping in their ranks for years. This intelligence is not surprising."

"Vodka and I haven't come away empty-handed lately. We've been comparing all the suspicious foreign faces in Beika Town... but we didn't expect these rats to be so cunning, managing to get this far."

"When to act?"

"Two days at the latest."

Gin let out a short, cold laugh, his killing intent almost overflowing from the receiver. "Our men are now like shadows, quietly surrounding that den of rats... We're just waiting for the final supplies and support to arrive before we make our move."

His tone became heavy and imposing:

"This operation is no small-scale operation like the others. The target is almost the entire FBI force stationed in Japan... To wipe them all out, without missing a single one, we certainly need to plan this carefully."

"Get ready, Cointreau."

The call has ended.

Lin Jiashu put down his phone, and the study returned to silence.

Gin seems to have become incredibly motivated too.

The border between Saitama Prefecture and Tokyo...

Rum and James Black really picked a good position.

Once Gin and his team are transferred there, returning to Beika Town won't be something that can be done in a short time.

A silent smile bloomed on Lin Jiashu's lips.

Chaos is the best ladder.

While everyone's attention is drawn to this bloody hunt, the true hunter can silently walk toward the final throne.

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 abandoned chemical plant, like a rusty steel behemoth, lies silently in the suburbs bordering Saitama Prefecture and Tokyo.

In the dense forest on the distant hillside, the lenses of the telescope reflected a cold luster under the moonlight.

“There are new tire tracks on the ground. Although they have been simply cleaned up and swept with branches, they are still visible.”

Cohen’s voice came through the communicator, his tone calm and emotionless: “It was left by a heavy vehicle. The tire tread depth and wheelbase don’t look like those of a civilian truck that should be here.”

His observation point offered the best view, allowing him to see the entire factory entrance and parts of the internal roads.

"powered by?"

Gin, hidden in the shadows inside the car, asked a concise question.

Vodka immediately chimed in, piloting a drone equipped with thermal imaging capabilities, hovering silently high in the night sky: "It's strange, bro. Most of the factory area is indeed without power, and the heat source signals are very weak, consistent with abandoned conditions. But in the core area—those interconnected office buildings and the central control room—we observed very faint, strictly concealed light leaks at night. Thermal imaging also shows a persistent heat source there, abnormal to the environment."

He paused for a moment: "They must have brought their own generator, and they did a good job of concealing and insulating it. Only seasoned veterans who have been stationed there for a long time would do something so meticulous."

“There’s one more thing,” Cohen’s deep, husky voice interjected, “There’s an Asian man, around thirty years old, who often drives an ordinary white Toyota. The pattern isn’t clear, but the frequency is not low.”

“We tracked him down twice.”

Chianti continued, "This guy mainly goes to a large supermarket 15 kilometers away from here to buy groceries. He buys a lot of ingredients each time, including canned goods, instant food, and bottled water. I've roughly estimated that the amount is enough for at least 20 people."

Serves 20.

This number brought a brief silence to the communication channel.

Gin took a deep drag of his cigarette, slowly exhaling gray smoke, his dark green pupils gleaming with a bloodthirsty light in the darkness.

He stubbed out his cigarette.

"Maintain surveillance, confirm all entrances and exits and potential evacuation routes. Once the supplies arrive, send them all... on their way."

"Understood, brother!" Vodka replied immediately.

Chianti licked his lips behind the scope and asked curiously, "What supplies?"

Gin let out a short, cold laugh and replied, "Vespania."

"Vespania?" Vodka was taken aback. "That small kingdom that's famous for its special minerals?"

Having flown an armed helicopter coated with a stealth mineral produced by that country, he naturally knew what that thing was.

His first thought was that they would be deploying those armed vehicles again this time.

But Gin just sneered.

"Besides being completely invisible to radar, the minerals from that country have another application—they can release a unique pulse field when excited by energy at a specific frequency. This pulse field can completely disable all precision electrical appliances within a certain range in a short period of time."

"Damaged circuitry?!"

Chianti's voice trembled with excitement, "How large is the area?"

"That should be enough to cover the core area of ​​that abandoned factory. Before they can react, their communications, surveillance, and even their generators might be paralyzed. At that point..."

He didn't say anything more, but the meaning was already clear.

In the electronically silent darkness, facing a group of FBI agents who cannot call for backup, cannot organize effective resistance, and whose eyes have been gouged out, what follows will not be a battle, but a one-sided, efficient... massacre.

At that point, there might not even be any room for Cointreau to operate.

Without Shuichi Akai, the FBI is like a tiger without claws, forced to submit to the organization's black cannons.

Gin, having cut off communications, was now impatient.

He even urged the supplies to arrive quickly.

Lin Jiashu, who had remained silent throughout, sat in the back row, leaning back in a relaxed posture. He looked down at his phone screen, his fingertips tapping lightly.

Hayashi Yoshiki: [Any recent moves, Ms. Fujiko?]

Fujiko Mine: [This is a trade secret, I won't disclose it~]

Lin Jiashu: [How can I know if you're available if I don't ask? I have a job that needs your help.]

This time, the reply was a few seconds slower.

Fujiko Mine: [It's a pity, I'm too popular lately, I'm afraid I won't be able to find the time.]

Lin Jiashu: [I understand. Hopefully, this time we won't attract that troublesome monkey-faced guy too? His appearance would be a real nuisance.]

After the message was sent, the phone went silent for a short while.

In a luxurious hotel suite far away, Fujiko Mine looked at the words "monkey face" on the screen, a hint of surprise flashing in her charming eyes.

She sat up straight, her fingertips hovering above the screen.

(Why did he suddenly bring up Lupin? Was it a guess, or...?)

Fujiko Mine: [Oh dear, that really hurts. Do you think I'm just a woman who always causes trouble?]

In the back seat of the Porsche, Lin Jiashu's smile deepened as he read the reply, but he didn't reply again.

He turned off his phone screen and turned his gaze back to the receding darkness outside the car window.

Lupin III truly loved the late Princess Sakura of the Kingdom of Vespania deeply... Whenever there was any news outside the kingdom about Vespania minerals, he would be as alert as a mouse smelling sesame oil.

However, it's hard to say whether that guy will make a move this time...

After all, from his perspective, he should also be able to see that this is a good show of dogs fighting each other.

Meanwhile, seeing that Hayashi Yoshiki was no longer replying, Mine Fujiko paused for a moment before realizing that she seemed to have been tricked into revealing information.

She clicked her tongue, realizing that this man was indeed incredibly troublesome.

She then edited another text message and sent it over.

Fujiko Mine: [Even extracting information costs money in my shop!]

Chapter 110: Action

The night was as dark as ink, casting the abandoned chemical plant area on the border of Saitama Prefecture into a blurry, dark outline.

Outside the factory area, several ghostly shadows were silently infiltrating forward, taking advantage of the shadows cast by overgrown weeds, abandoned pipes, and dilapidated buildings.

Outside, two sentries dressed in worn-out jackets and disguised as homeless people occupied a high point overlooking the main entrance and parts of the factory area.

One of them leaned against a broken cement pillar, while the other huddled in what appeared to be a haphazardly constructed cardboard "shack."

They appeared to be dozing off or idly smoking, but occasionally they would vigilantly scan their surroundings, checking for any suspicious activity.

To some extent, their disguise was indeed very effective.

But by sheer coincidence, the two of them happened to be in a good position to observe, which Gin found obvious and even somewhat comical.

The two cautious sentries were unaware that their every move, even the heat signals from their body temperature, had already been locked onto by hunters further away using high-precision sniper scopes and thermal imagers.

"Wind direction southeast, wind speed 2.1, humidity 65%, distance 682 meters, target one, head."

Chianti's cold voice rang out in the encrypted communication channel, tinged with a hint of suppressed excitement.

Her finger rested firmly on the trigger.

"Confirmed. Target number two, carotid artery, distance 715 meters."

Cohen's hoarse response followed immediately, flat and mechanical.

"implement."

Gin's extremely concise command came through the channel.

boom--

boom--

Two gunshots, effectively silenced and barely audible like the sound of someone stomping their foot, almost overlapped and were instantly swallowed up by the night wind.

Leaning against the concrete pillar, Sentry Number One suddenly burst into a spray of blood at his temple. Before he could even switch off the deliberately maintained languid expression on his face, his body went limp like a puppet with its strings cut, and the half-smoked cigarette in his hand fell into the dust.

Almost at the same moment, the second sentry, who was huddled in the "shack," suddenly shuddered and instinctively raised his hand to cover his neck. Blood gushed out from between his fingers like a flood. He opened his mouth wide, but could only make incomprehensible "hoarse" sounds. He struggled to his knees and fell to the ground. The next moment, he was completely silent.

"We took them down!" Chianti reported excitedly.

“Done.” Cohen’s response remained curt.

After the two top snipers successfully removed the most obvious eye on the perimeter, they sent out their signal.

Several figures dressed in black emerged simultaneously from the shadows in various directions around the factory area.

Using the dilapidated walls, abandoned storage tanks, and overgrown weeds as cover, they silently and efficiently approached the factory.

The two-person assault team, composed of two members, was particularly swift and precise in its movements.

The person in charge of the demolition was a lean young man who stood like a shadow next to a rusty side door, his fingers moving quickly and steadily to install miniature plastic explosives on the door hinges and latches.

(This is it... If we complete this mission flawlessly, we'll get the codename.)

The thought flashed through his mind quickly, and his movements were without the slightest hesitation.

(Lord Gin is watching from a distance; absolutely no mistakes can be made.)

He spoke into the miniature headset in a very low voice, very quickly: "I'll complete the installation within ten seconds and report your location and situation."

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, his partner responded through the earpiece, accompanied by an extremely faint metallic scraping sound: "I've reached the designated ventilation opening. I haven't found anything unusual yet. The grille here is severely corroded. It can be opened silently in about fifteen seconds using hydraulic shears."