Daisei Hamada and Keita Kamitaki finished locking away the weapons in the training ground and were preparing to return to the dormitory to rest.
This was one of the organization's secret training facilities.
Though members with code names were rarely seen here, it was commonly used to train external operatives affiliated with the organization. Only occasionally were specially selected core members sent in for specialized training—usually under direct orders from the top brass.
As the instructors in charge of the facility, Hamada and Kamitaki were not of the same rank as the elite operatives, but they still held a position of authority far beyond the typical recruits.
Hamada tensed as a metallic sound rang out from the distance.
He and Kamitaki exchanged a glance, both immediately drawing their sidearms. One ran to check the surveillance monitors, while the other went to investigate the source of the noise.
But as Hamada Daisei approached the monitor room, he saw that several of the surveillance screens had gone black. His heart dropped.
He instinctively reached for his phone to alert headquarters—
A gunshot ripped through Hamada's palm, making him drop the phone.
"Heh, pretty quick to react,"
A mocking voice spoke.
The shooter, wearing a gray-green trench coat, stood calmly with a smoking revolver in hand. It was Snake.
"Too bad I'm faster than you."
Sweat beaded on Hamada's brow. His hand throbbed, but he didn't cry out.
Then he spotted a corpse behind Snake—Keita Kamitaki, eyes open, a clean bullet hole in his forehead.
"Someone like you doesn't need to know my name," Snake sneered. "Blame it on Rum. That bastard killed the Spider."
The revolver barked again. Blood burst from Hamada's forehead as his body hit the floor.
Snake's reputation as a deadly sharpshooter wasn't exaggerated—he was capable of hitting Kaito Kid's heart at long range with a reflexive shot.
"Search the place. Make sure no one else is hiding."
Snake crouched and picked up Hamada's phone. It was still unlocked.
Flipping through the contacts, he smirked.
He began composing text messages, planning to lure the others out one by one and eliminate them.
"Then strip the place clean. Take all the firearms and ammo. Leave a message on the wall."
After cleaning out the facility, Snake and his men vanished into the night.
"What did you just say?"
Gin's eyes gleamed with deadly coldness.
Due to the organization's strict security protocol, facilities one had to check in daily. But that night, the training ground run by Hamada and Kamitaki had gone dark, prompting an alert from their communications officer.
Upon learning that both instructors had been killed and that several external members were lured out and eliminated, Gin's expression became terrifying.
At the same time, Vodka's inbox received photos and surveillance footage recovered from the site.
One of the videos showed Snake shooting the instructors, then spray-painting a message on the wall:
"We have always kept our distance from each other, but this time, we will definitely avenge the Spider, Rum"
Gin's eyes narrowed coldly.
"A rival organization…"
He instantly identified the source.
Like the Black Organization—whose agents used alcohol-based code names—this group used poisons as their codenames. A different branch of the underworld with similar goals but a different approach.
"Boss Rum is furious…" Vodka said cautiously.
"Hmph," Gin snorted. "Whether it was Rum or not, the boss won't tolerate this."
The truth was, although Rum's identity was top secret, it was clear from internal channels that Günther von Goldberg II, the illusionist known as "Spider", had been eliminated.
Even if Rum had ordered the hit, Gin doubted he would leave behind something so sloppy as a public message.
Regardless, the FBI and CIA had recently increased their operations against the organization—clearly emboldened.
As for how the training ground was exposed, Gin had two theories:
A mole inside the organization.
Someone had been tailed.
But not once did Gin suspect Hayashi Yoshiki.
Despite knowing about the training facility, Gin believed Hayashi to be too meticulous to ever leave a trail. Even when committing an accidental murder, he left nothing behind.
"They killed our people, and you ask 'what now?'"
Gin shot Vodka a deadly glare.
"Contact the intelligence division. I want their base location yesterday. Have Chianti and Korn on standby. If we get coordinates, we strike."
"What about Tequila's mission?"
"He's wrapping it up. Should be free soon."
"Good. He joins the assault team. And tell Cointreau to lay low. No more visits to the training ground."
Vodka quietly noted the orders, though the idea of contacting Cointreau made him uneasy.
As Gin's rage simmered, he didn't care about a few dead grunts or a lost warehouse.
If anyone dares to oppose us... they die.
At his home, Hayashi Yoshiki waited patiently.
Finally, a message from Vodka popped up, just as planned.
Vodka: "Jun Du, Big Brother says to be extra careful. Don't visit the training ground again."
"Later than I expected," Hayashi mused.
He'd begun to think the whole setup had fallen through.
Hayashi Yoshiki: "What happened, Mr. Vodka?"
Vodka: "Another group attacked. Hamada and Kamitaki were both killed."
Vodka: "Brother is furious."
Vodka: "But it has nothing to do with you. You should rest."
Hayashi Yoshiki: "Understood."
"Mr. Vodka is always so polite," Hayashi smiled.
After sending that final message, he gently put his phone down...
…and soon fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Some people, however…
Would not sleep at all that night.