However, after the brief refreshment, Vodka suddenly shuddered as he remembered the cruel reality before him.
"Me, capture Akai Shuichi?" Staring at the pitch-black sea, a chill ran down his spine as he muttered inwardly:
"Brother Gin often can't get the better of that guy, let alone me! Uzo, that bastard—could he be planning to use Akai Shuichi to get rid of me, then report my death as an acceptable loss incurred while capturing Akai Shuichi?!"
Caught between a rock and a hard place, the innocent executive was briefly overwhelmed with despair. But then Vodka suddenly grinned, remembering something.
—The mysterious Vermouth, the clearly suspicious Ghost Ship, and, more importantly, Uzo, who had been eyeing him like a tiger stalking its prey...
Bringing a gun aboard under such circumstances meant that, if anyone found out, there was a 30% chance he would end up on the Organization's cleanup list, a 30% chance he would get killed onstage by the gun itself, and another 30% chance he would somehow shoot someone and then be silenced by Brother Gin... Add 9% for other absurd scenarios, and his odds of survival were probably only 1%.
In short, after making a conservative estimate, the cautious executive silently gave up on bringing a real gun and carried only a Tranquilizer Gun—after all, this mission was not an assassination. He was merely here to see what Vermouth was up to.
Which meant...
At that thought, Vodka took the Tranquilizer Gun from his pocket and waved it at Bourbon, who was asking him to provide support. "I don't have a gun!"
Amuro Tooru: "...?"
FBI, then Vodka... What exactly was wrong with these people??
Could the Metropolitan Police Department have recently launched some secret crackdown on guns, one so confidential that even he, a member of Public