"Boss, how is it now?" Vodka asked Gin in a low voice.
He could not hear the faint footsteps outside. Only the sharp-eared Gin could hear them, so Vodka had no idea what was happening outside.
"They've already left." Gin put away his gun as he spoke. His expression was frighteningly grim, and his vicious gaze fixed on Vodka, startling him.
Did I offend the boss somewhere? Why is he looking at me like that?
Vodka was extremely nervous, afraid that the enraged Gin would put a bullet in him. After all, quite a few Organization members had died at Gin's hands.
Those Organization members Gin had killed were either traitors or incompetent fools, which was why Gin held such high prestige within the Black Organization.
"Vodka, your trail was exposed, wasn't it?" Gin demanded.
"No, Boss. I guarantee that I absolutely didn't expose my trail." Vodka shook his head. He had always been very cautious—how could he possibly have exposed himself?
"Hmph. The footsteps outside were deliberately muffled. Do you understand what that means?" Gin said with a cold snort.
"Then what should we do, Boss?" Unable to decide, Vodka asked Gin.
"Leave this place first. The item isn't here. Either it was hidden away, or the person who killed him took it."
Gin glanced at the murdered victim, then said, "Let's go. We'll find his killer first."
Gin was highly skilled at murder, but finding killers was not his forte. The chances of locating the culprit were practically zero.
Gin and Vodka slipped away without being noticed.
"They've left the room." Conan held a device displaying a red dot. That red dot represented Gin and the others.
That was right—Conan had placed a tracker on Vodka.
"Huh? Why did it stop moving?"
After a while, Conan suddenly noticed