novelaction Chapter 146 Compensation and Damage Assessment
Chapter 146 Compensation and Damage Assessment
Standing at a busy intersection, Rei Furuya felt as if his shoes were frozen to the pavement. The small phone exuded a tense and oppressive atmosphere, almost like a barrier completely isolating the black and white sides.
"Boss, I apologize for disrupting your plans. Please issue the next instructions and give me a chance to accept punishment and make amends."
Before today, Furuya Rei had never imagined seeing a "humble and submissive" expression on that familiar face, but the truth was that Sugrid didn't even dare to raise his eyes when facing that person in the organization.
Even someone who can stand shoulder to shoulder with Gin in daily tasks is so apprehensive!
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, until they were almost suffocating from holding their breath, before they finally spoke:
"Whatever happens to the escaped fox, that's not the point. If you can't coordinate it right now, just hand over the fox hunt to other members nearby..."
For example, my Bourbon, standing silently beside you, listening in.
Bourbon/Sogrid: !
Rei Furuya subconsciously looked up and saw that the road surveillance cameras next to the traffic lights were all pointing at them from various angles, flashing red lights.
"But boss..."
"Hiro, you have no right to speak here."
Furuya Rei glanced at Sogrid, who seemed hesitant to speak, pursed his lips, and bowed, replying, "Please rest assured, I will definitely complete the mission perfectly."
"Very good." The faint sound of police sirens could be heard in the background. "Now let's talk about your repeated misjudgments in damage assessment."
Repeated mistakes? Could this be the reason for the organization's recent unusual activities?
"The Maserati 3500GT, first produced in 1957, was the first prototype of the GT series. Designed and produced by Touring in Milan, it is undoubtedly the pinnacle of Italian automotive engineering."
My beloved car, which has been with me for nearly forty years and is still in good condition, has been frequently worn out in the last four years. This time, it must be the most serious damage.
Even at the lowest possible market value, a GT would fetch $70.
"Sogrid, how many missions are you willing to complete, or rather, how many people do you think you need to kill to make amends?"
Kurokawa Kagemitsu's breath hitched, and he lowered his head even further: "It's all up to you."
"Then let's start with what you can do. Draw your gun right now and judge that troublesome bystander in the street..."
'Kazami!'
Bourbon's pupils contracted sharply, and he turned to pour his most intense killing intent onto Kazami Yuya, hoping that the latter would sense the danger and escape.
"Or give me a satisfactory answer." Before the two could act, the tone on the other end suddenly changed.
"Let's assume a scenario. You are ordered to infiltrate the Muddy Association, and during a robbery mission, due to your partner's negligence, you are unexpectedly wanted by the Japanese Public Security Bureau."
If you accidentally hit a child while traveling, causing your vehicle to crash into a tree and be totaled, and you're being pursued, what would be the optimal solution?
Is this a test of coping skills? Bourbon listened while putting himself in the role.
The organization would never allow its members to be caught by the police. Their primary goal was to temporarily escape the scene, shake off the pursuers, and then borrow vehicles from nearby residents to reach a safe house for refuge.
While he was pondering, Kurokawa Kagemitsu also provided his answer:
“In this situation, I would take the child who was hit by the car hostage. I would force my way into a police car and demand that the police escort me and the hostage to the hospital for emergency treatment as quickly as possible.”
On the one hand, this approachable attitude would soften the police's guard; on the other hand, having hostages made it easier for me to seize the initiative.
"What if they see you as a high-threat individual and open fire?"
"The probability is almost zero."
When it comes to this, Kagemitsu Kurokawa is completely confident: "Given the cowardly nature of the Japanese police, they definitely wouldn't dare to fire."
Bourbon clenched his fists as he heard the mocking tone: the law of minimum use of force is to be responsible for the lives of prisoners!
"Barely qualified."
Hiding in a toilet stall, Kuromon Haruya covered the phone and asked another question:
"Now, let's change the scenario. If you disguise yourself and get shot while on the run, and hurriedly hide in an unfinished building, you'll be rescued by a passerby who was trying to silence you."
At this moment, what are your thoughts on the person who saved your life?
Listening to so many questions, Bourbon felt he had vaguely figured out the source of the huge number of psychological scales he had encountered after joining the organization.
Did he accidentally stumble upon some kind of evaluation site? I never expected that gentleman would evaluate the members in this way.
Although somewhat disappointed that Sogrid hadn't met his end, Kazami was also temporarily spared from the threat of being killed.
"Knock these two out, then use their clothes and identities to escape. It would be even better if we had some disguise tools with us."
"An irrelevant answer, unacceptable. It seems this version's usage period is almost up."
Kuromon Haruya took out the large, unfastened beast that he hadn't had time to tie, threw it into the toilet, and relayed a message to Furuya Rei on the opposite side:
"Bourbon, from now on, you will be temporarily in charge of the recovery of this batch of Sugarled whisky. Take this vehicle to the incinerator at Base Two, destroy this version, and then collect the new one. It will inform you of the specific procedures."
Bourbon: "......"
The person sitting in the leather driver's seat, whom the boss referred to as "it," calmly looked back at him and nodded slightly, confirming Bourbon's guess.
He reacted to the verdict with such nonchalance, as if it were not the loss of a life, but rather the routine replacement of disposable items. A dizzying sense of malice washed over him, especially when Bourbon noticed Sogrid's relieved and thankful glance at Kazami Yuya, seemingly pleased to have settled things with his own life.
'Was Kagemitsu's attitude towards death the same before he was driven to suicide by Shuichi Akai and by me?'
Hearing the silence on the other end, Kuromon Haruya asked knowingly, "Hmm? Sogrid, haven't you told him about the cloning technology arrangements yet?"
"I understand, boss."
Having received a reply, Kuromon Haruya hung up the phone, leaving his two close friends to savor the strange and complicated atmosphere: "Good luck, Kagemitsu. Let me see what kind of strength this Bourbon, who was originally conceived as the Black Faction, can demonstrate."
......
The content of a prophetic dream from a certain year:
"...Now we are sending an important message to our people!"
According to confirmation from UN peacekeeping forces, the large-scale terrorist group "Organization," which spanned multiple countries and was known as a scourge of the century, was finally destroyed after years of coordinated efforts by police forces in various countries. Its leader and high-ranking members were all killed on the spot.
The news report on the screen went out, and "someone," who had been discarded by the Japanese high command as a pawn and should have been sacrificed long ago, went into the basement.
Inside the freezer, where the temperature is constantly maintained at -18 degrees Celsius, two pale, cold bodies are breathing faintly. Their eyes are empty and lifeless, and they do not respond to any stimulation.
On the side of the freezer, the logo with the white dove design was burned black by the flames, and only by looking closely could one barely make out the laboratory classification labels: [Akami Miyano], [Kurokawa (crossed out) Morofushi Hiromitsu].
After a long silence, a weary question echoed in the basement:
"Can your method truly bring them back to life without harming anyone, Nigredo?"
"Of course." Turning around, there was a crow locked in a birdcage in the corner.
"This is a lost chemistry, which can be mastered with dedicated study, without sacrificing any innocent lives."
Through the one-way glass of the United Nations laboratory, a humanoid figure perched on the lab table watches the approaching saw blade, muttering something to itself:
"The damage your companion suffered came from demonic black magic, and alchemy can help heal it."
"I just hope someone can carry on this sentiment, Bourbon."