Curacao

"Gin, you have disappointed me greatly."

A strange male voice, distorted by a machine, echoed coldly through the deathly silence.

Everyone recognized the owner of that voice:

"That voice... it's Rum."

"Rum showed himself?!"

"Boss Rum?"

"Rum really couldn't sit still. Heh, all of this was within Mr. Noah's calculations!"

Bourbon, Kir, Vodka, and Irish all held their breaths, whether cautiously, nervously, or excitedly.

Even Gin, who had always presented nothing but icy severity, could not help but rein in his sharp edge.

"Mr. Rum."

"I'm sorry. Today's operation failed."

"Failure itself is not frightening."

"You need to know where you failed."

"It was the mole."

Gin could barely suppress his anger:

"There's another mole among us!"

"Who is the mole?"

"I don't know."

"Who do you think is the most likely?"

Gin fell silent.

Though he was extremely reluctant to do so, he silently turned his gaze toward Vodka.

"B-Big Brother."

Vodka looked so aggrieved he was practically about to cry:

"N-No, it wasn't me! It really wasn't me!"

"Think about it, Big Brother. If I were an undercover agent, how many chances would I have had to betray the organization over all these years? Why, why would I wait until now?"

His tone was flustered.

But his defense was quite persuasive.

That was right. He could have sold Gin out at any time, so why wait until now?

"That's not necessarily true."

Bourbon and Kir did not dare step forward to steer the conversation for fear of drawing suspicion.

But Irish was more than happy to stir things up:

"You did have countless chances to betray the organization before, that's true."

"But how could any of those opportunities compare to today's?"

"You only acted with Gin before. Even if you sold someone out, it would only be Gin,