A Silver Bullet?
Vermouth twirled a lock of her hair around her finger.
The golden strands reflected a silvery-white sheen beneath the lights, like a handful of moonlight flowing into her palm.
"'Silver Bullet'... We all understand what that means, Gin. I think what Boss truly feared might not have been any one person."
Her gaze shifted forward, landing on Gin's silver hair as it draped down and wound across the seat.
Shuichi Akai's provocation had certainly enraged Gin, and his repeated failures to kill the man must have left him dissatisfied.
But Gin's intense desire to kill Shuichi Akai was definitely not solely because Akai had defected.
Gin turned his head, casting an especially cold glance over Vodka, who had clamped his mouth shut as though trying to pretend he did not exist, before looking sideways at Vermouth in the back seat.
"Even with that person's favor, you should be more careful about certain things."
"What is it? I wasn't the one who called Shuichi Akai the Silver Bullet."
"Shut up, Vermouth."
What came next was not something that could be discussed out in the open. At the very least, someone like Vodka, who had never truly come into contact with the organization's core secrets, had no right to hear it.
Vermouth tilted her head, unmoved by Gin's warning, though she did not provoke him any further.
Favor? Perhaps.
Those earlier actions of hers, taken on her own initiative, those actions that had exposed the organization's strength and resources, had already caused the organization considerable losses. If anyone else had done the same, Gin would probably have sent them to heaven long ago.
But Vermouth knew all too well just how enormous the price of that "favor" was.
Take Rum at this very moment. Rum was deeply anxious over