Mao Akai wore a pair of exaggerated sunglasses and pushed open an elaborately carved door. "Teacher, I'm back."
The white-haired elder sitting behind the desk looked up. "Scarlet, do you know what you're getting into?"
"Of course." The corners of Mao Akai's mouth curved into a grim smile. "Haven't I done this kind of thing enough times already? Besides, I hardly think just one Stout is going to be enough."
.....
How annoying.
Lying flat on the rooftop, Mao Akai peered through the scope at an apartment across the way.
It had been three days, yet her target was still cowering inside the apartment like a turtle in its shell.
Frowning with irritation, she adjusted her position and kept her eyes glued to the scope.
Finally, in the next second, the hiding man carelessly exposed himself near the window.
Mao Akai squeezed the trigger, and a moment later, the man collapsed blankly to the ground.
Seeing her mission accomplished, Mao Akai whistled, then quickly stood up, dismantled and packed away her sniper rifle, rolled up the plastic sheeting laid out on the ground, and restored the scene to its original state.
By the time the police managed to trace their way to this rooftop, Mao Akai had long since left the crime scene with her guitar case strapped to her back.
At this moment, she looked completely different from her usual self in Neon.
Long, bright red hair cascaded down her back, and oversized sunglasses concealed the majority of her face, while her exposed lips were painted with a vibrant shade of lipstick.
She casually hailed a taxi by the roadside, gave the destination, and the car sped away, stopping half an hour later outside a music festival venue.
"Sorry, miss, I can only drop you off here." The driver shrugged as he looked at the long line of traffic ahead.
"That's fine." Mao Akai didn't mind.
After paying the fare, she clicked away in her high heels and vanished into the crowd.
The driver cast a regretful glance at her slender figure and couldn't help boasting to his good buddy about picking up a major beauty today.
The praised Mao Akai had already taken off her red wig and wiped away her lipstick. Weaving through the crowd, she exited the music festival from another gate and returned to her hotel.
"Miss Red, how was the music festival?" The brown-haired desk clerk looked at her with bright, sparkling eyes.
"It was fantastic. I suggest you just take a sick day and go down there to properly unwind."
A trace of yearning crossed the clerk's face, but reality quickly won out. "Forget it, I'll just wait until my shift is over."
After chatting briefly with the clerk, Mao Akai returned to her room. After checking the surroundings to ensure there were no listening devices, she directly dialed her superior's number.
"Boss, my mission is complete."
"Good job." A smiling female voice echoed through the earpiece.
"Is my identity ready, Madam M?"
The voice on the other end paused for a moment.
"Scarlet, have you really decided?"
"Yes, Madam. I am ready."
After a long silence, the other person sighed. "I am standing at the console right now. You can still rethink this."
"Thank you, but no need."
Another silence followed, and then Mao Akai heard a faint rustling sound from the other end.
"Scarlet, all your records have been expunged," Madam M said, her voice heavy. "Now you are merely an assassin cultivated by The Organization. Only I have the authorization to restore your identity. If I should die one day, you may never be able to come back."
"I know."
Mao Akai's casual tone only made Madam M feel worse.
"Our focus isn't actually on that organization."
"I know that," Mao Akai murmured, dropping her gaze. If MI6 agents put all their energy into that organization, her father wouldn't have gone missing for so long, her mother wouldn't have changed her daughters' surname, and her older brother wouldn't have left home at such a young age.
It was just that she truly didn't care about that. Whether she was Mao Akai, Mao Sera, or Scarlet, none of it would become a barrier between her and her family. She was simply looking to chase that heart-pounding thrill.
She was merely using MI6 to achieve her own goals.
Curly blonde locks cascaded down, concealing Mao Akai's green eyes and the madness brewing within them.
The person on the other end of the line could not see her expression at that moment.
Madam M simply assumed she had decided to infiltrate the organization in order to find her father.
Sighing, Madam M said, "I'll do everything I can to help you, Mao."
"Thank you, Madam M. I won't let you down." A smile bloomed on Mao Akai's face as she silently vowed to herself: I will make good use of your help.
......
Gin felt that everything had been going wrong lately.
Last month, the organization's setup in Neon had failed completely; apart from Stout, who fled back like a stray dog, everyone else was wiped out.
This month, the British billionaire the organization was supposed to contact had been assassinated inside his apartment, sending all the funds the organization had invested in him down the drain.
Three days ago, he received a mission to acquire intelligence, but by the time he and Vodka arrived at the scene, the target was already dead.
Just like the British billionaire, killed with a single shot.
"Who is it?" Clenching a cigarette between his teeth, his eyes filled with malice, he vowed that if he ever caught that person, he would subject them to the most brutal torture!
Police sirens wailed closer from outside the window. Gin glanced at the scene and turned to leave without looking back.
"Big Brother." Vodka called out timidly, eyeing Gin, who was radiating a suffocating dark aura.
"To the next location."
"Yes."
After a string of bad luck, the goddess of fortune finally smiled upon them once. When Gin and Vodka arrived at their destination, the informant they were supposed to meet was still alive and well.
The two men got out of the car, and Vodka hoisted the man without a word, dragging him toward a secluded spot.
Gin followed closely behind Vodka, scanning his surroundings. Suddenly, his eyes caught a flash of light from the upper floors of a distant hotel.
"Get down!" Gin shoved Vodka to the ground. The next second, the informant being held hostage by Vodka jerked violently and slumped to the ground.
Red and white unspeakable matter splattered all over the two of them.
"Big... Big Brother..." The tall, burly man trembled slightly. Of course, he wasn't scared by the sudden sniper fire—after all, countless people had died by his hands—but this was the first time he had ever seen Gin this furious; the palpable killing intent radiating from him seemed almost visible to the naked eye.
There was an entire street separating them from that hotel, and even if they rushed over now, they wouldn't find the shooter. But Gin wouldn't swallow this humiliation; he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked.
"Let's go!" A low voice squeezed through clenched teeth. Gin pulled down the brim of his hat, turned, and strode away.
Not daring to say another word, Vodka dumped the corpse and scuttled after Gin like a whipped dog, too terrified to make a peep.