Vermouth: "Take the blame...?"
Fujino nodded. "Yeah. If anything happens, we'll pin it all on you."
Vermouth's gaze turned suspicious. "What about you?"
Fujino replied matter-of-factly, "I'll vanish beautifully, of course."
Vermouth: "..."
Then she frowned. "Putting everything else aside, I'm your martial aunt, your elder. Is that any way to treat an elder?"
Fujino said, "I wouldn't even treat an animal like that."
Vermouth: "..."
Seeing the Old Auntie's stiff expression and twitching brow made Fujino feel considerably better. "The BOSS assigned you a mission, and you asked me to help gather intelligence and resolve it. When the BOSS asks about it later, if we can't make up a convincing story and it gets investigated, won't I be exposed immediately?"
"And that little one you care about most—given his deductive ability, if he notices any clues, he'll definitely figure it out, right?"
"Auntie, you don't want my High School Detective identity exposed either, do you?"
Vermouth: "..."
Why did she suddenly feel like she was being threatened?
No, he was threatening her with his own identity being exposed?
What was he even thinking?
But after giving it some thought, Vermouth did feel that it was somewhat improper.
This time, the BOSS had assigned her the mission purely because there was no one useful left under his command.
After all, as everyone knew, the people in the Alcohol Company were basically a bunch of brainless brutes. They could kill people just fine, but asking them to use their brains made them look like a pack of stupid pigs.
As for the smarter ones, they had either died long ago or been taken out by traitors.
People like Gin, Vodka, and Chianti were among the few capable executives. After all these years, there were barely any of them left alive.
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