The Actor's Self-Cultivation

Tangze did not resist, letting Tooru Amuro's hand rest on his head.

"Sorry, they said, sorry." Tangze buried his face deeper in his hands. "...Liars."

It did not sound like very specific information. As his palm stroked Tangze's hair, Tooru Amuro analyzed it calmly. Perhaps the Tang Ze couple had some agreed-upon code, a secret account, scheduled emails, or something similar.

The contact could not have been frequent, or Tangze would not have reacted only now, months later. The message should have been brief and not delivered through a physical medium, since Tangze had not originally planned to go out; he had only gone out on a whim after someone invited him.

Phone calls, emails, texts, social media... The Tang Ze couple had long been controlled by the organization, and even the exact location of the research facility where they worked was difficult to trace. If the method of contact had been operated through them, it would certainly not have escaped the organization's surveillance. And whoever operated it needed a way to know whether they were safe...

In summary, the Tang Ze couple had a secret contact within the organization.

Tooru Amuro's violet-gray eyes shifted, reflecting a sharp gleam.

"...They aren't coming back." Tangze's voice was muffled behind his hands, heavy and suffocating. "I knew it. I should have known long ago."

"Last time, you told me your parents had always worked abroad. Was it a dangerous job? Why do you think something happened to them?" Whether Tangze knew about his parents' research project, and how much he knew if he did, was extremely important. Tooru Amuro bent down, trying to study Tangze's expression.

Tangze's eyes beneath his hands were squeezed tightly shut. His lashes trembled under the pressure of his clenched eyelids. It was impossible to tell whether he was holding back tears. "They're both scholars, but their work... is dangerous. Very dangerous."

He knew. At the very least, he knew that the Tang Ze couple had been coerced.

No, perhaps it went further than that. Unlike Sherry, the Tang Ze couple were not researchers trained by the organization. It was precisely because their research project had drawn the organization's attention that they had unknowingly fallen into the web, slowly stuck fast, wrapped in silken strands, and ultimately trapped to death within it.

Tang Ze Zhao had lived alongside them for ten years before they were brought under the organization's control. Just as the organization had judged, he must have held something even more crucial in his hands.

Tooru Amuro knew that he should have kept guiding him now. He should have spoken a few hypocritical words of reassurance in a gentle tone—"Don't overthink it," "Don't give up hope without definite news," "Don't be too nervous"—then denied the deaths of his parents to push this teenager, whose pressure had been steadily building, into a complete breakdown or a total eruption, extracting more information from his uncontrolled emotions.

But as he watched Tangze's fingertips press hard against his face, he hesitated, sighed, and said, "Tangze, I've told you before. If you have any difficulties, you can tell me."

He could indeed have used colder methods to pry out the information he wanted. But exploiting a teenager's grief to the very end, detonating the pain he had struggled to hide, was a little too despicable.

At the end of the day, Tangze was only a child who had tragically lost his family.

He was not facing those lawless criminals from the organization. Using such tactics on Tangze was beneath contempt.

Tangze lifted his head from his hands and looked at him with tear-filled eyes, faint surprise in his gaze.

...Was his moral bottom line too flexible, or did the Red Faction in this world really have such a ridiculously strong conscience?

In Tangze's experience, when facing a target who was completely disadvantaged and emotionally unstable, one should establish a more imposing authority—apparently kind, yet beyond question. By listening and offering validation, one stabilized control of the conversation, then suppressed and denied some of the other's views, thereby establishing a more unequal relationship.

Under this top-down gaze, the other party would become easy to control, and the most reliable intelligence could be obtained.

Tangze had already begun preparing for the emotional climax of his breakdown, but Tooru Amuro suddenly relaxed his control over the topic. Tangze nearly broke character on the spot, his emotions almost failing to catch up.

...Don't change the script on your own!

Still, Tangze adjusted his train of thought quickly. He pressed his lips together, looked at Tooru Amuro with an expression as though he had realized something, and asked, "Any difficulty?"

Tooru Amuro paused under his gaze, but continued to comfort him. "Don't worry that telling someone about your troubles will inconvenience them. Even if someone can't help you, saying it aloud is better than keeping it bottled up inside."

Too kind, Mr. Undercover. Doesn't that expose your role in this matter?

So Tangze looked down at his hands with eyes damp with tears. They were trembling faintly.

"I'm scared, Mr. Amuro. The worst nightmare has come true." He clasped his hands together, as though trying to suppress his trembling fingers, and finally threw out the words lodged in his throat. "They said they would come back. The next time we met, I would be a big kid. But they also said... if they couldn't come back... I had to run away as soon as possible. The farther, the better."

"Mr. Amuro..." Tangze's eyes were filled with sorrow, making his pale blue eyes dim. "But I already... don't have a chance to run away, do I?"

Tangze truly was a very clever child.

That question was full of profound despair, and it also made Tooru Amuro understand that his hesitation just now had indeed cost him an opportunity.

He had not shattered Tangze's emotions with a dismissive attitude, thereby revealing that he felt deep sympathy for Tangze's situation.

Tangze had keenly sensed that sympathy and thus discovered part of the truth: Tooru Amuro knew about the deaths of Tangze's parents.

Following that line of reasoning, his role really was Tangze's protector. After all, even jailers had an obligation to ensure their prisoners' safety.

Tangze's fear was not merely fear after hearing of his parents' deaths. He was also afraid of him.

"Yes." Tooru Amuro did not try to change that impression. He straightened up again. "I'm sorry."

The conversation should not continue in the café. There were too many people and too many ears, so Tooru Amuro could only stop for the time being.

He watched Tangze lower his head weakly once more, exposing his unguarded neck again like a condemned prisoner waiting for the executioner's blade to fall.

"What's wrong with you two?" Their voices had been quiet, so Azusa Enomoto had not heard what they were saying. She had only seen Tangze's mood worsening until he was nearly slumped over the table, and she approached with concern.

"It's nothing, Miss Enomoto." Tooru Amuro put on a practiced service smile. "Tangze is in a bad mood and isn't feeling well."

He patted Tangze's shoulder. Seeing Tangze shudder all over at that single pat, he could only point upstairs helplessly. "Relax. It's all right, Tangze. Go upstairs and rest first. We'll have a good talk after closing."

"Okay." Tangze kept his head lowered, offered no resistance, and slowly headed toward the attic.

Tooru Amuro watched his slumped shoulders with slight concern. Although he had not used manipulation to destroy Tangze's defenses, the fact that he was a watcher had dealt Tangze a blow all the same. It was as if all his spirit had been drained away.

Tooru Amuro felt deeply wronged. He had approached Tangze as Bourbon, but he had never truly treated Tangze with the mindset Bourbon used toward targets.

But even if he plainly said he meant no harm now, Tangze would probably have a hard time believing him. Hopefully, after calming down, Tangze would understand that.

Dragging his feet upstairs, Tangze raised his head. There was no trace of dejection or pain left on his face.

"That imitation of Ai Haibara was actually pretty convincing." Tangze rubbed his face and muttered to himself.

To heighten the emotional tension just now, he had been pressing at his own face for ages. It actually hurt a little.

Following Ai Haibara's usual self-abandonment logic, he had shown an inclination to give up struggling, close his eyes, and wait for death. Sure enough, the fake liquor with an oversized conscience had decided to reveal a little of his hand, lest he do nothing at all and still scare the victim to death.

And to prepare for tonight's conversation—

Tangze reached into his commuter bag and pulled out a laptop.

He had bought it on the way back. After discovering just how lethal his parents' academic abilities were, Tangze had no choice but to quickly learn what exactly they had been researching.

He turned his gaze to his commuter bag and reached for the small memory card.