On the other end of the line.
—Aside from organization members in certain special professions, most operatives instinctively avoided reporters and cameras. If they could avoid an interview, they would. Calvados was no exception.
Coupled with the protection of citizens' privacy, the "unlucky bystanders" in news reports often had their names concealed, becoming mere background props to highlight the criminals' brutality.
So until then, Vermouth had still harbored a faint hope.
But now, listening to Calvados's slightly strange change of story and looking at the news on the screen... she finally confirmed who the unseen "unlucky bystanders nearly shot" and the "owner of the unidentified gun" actually were.
Vermouth's smile slowly froze on her face.
...But now that things had come to this, as an adult, she could only face it bravely. Vermouth vigorously rubbed her face, put her smile back on, and asked conversationally, "Could you tell me more about what you've been through these past few days? I'm very interested."
After spending some time listening to Calvados's embellished account, Vermouth fell briefly silent.
When he tactfully asked whether she wanted to come out for a late-night meal, Vermouth came back to herself and said gently, "I'd also love to share a pleasant dinner with you, but unfortunately, I'm carrying out an important plan and need to remain secluded for a while—don't see me or contact me for the time being. When the time is right, I'll come find you."
Calvados felt somewhat regretful, but it was not as though he could say much. In truth, he was already very happy just to have had such a long phone call.
He savored the few words his goddess had said, then reluctantly bid her farewell. "All right. See you next time."
As Calvados tried to immerse himself in