Chapter 462
Mime Performance
As a former undercover agent and a fake elementary school student were shocked by the appearance of a silver-haired man, the scene was simultaneously transmitted to other locations.
In a room at the base, Rum, who had been on the phone, stared at the bodyguard who had come to deliver a message and repeated it incredulously:
"Gin is here?"
"Yes." The bodyguard who had just returned nodded. "He came in through the passage on the other side of the forest. The person in charge of monitoring the situation notified me immediately after seeing him."
Rum abruptly stood up from behind his desk.
"To come in from a place like that, humph..."
He let out a cold laugh, said a few words to the person on the other end of the phone, hung up, and turned to give the order: "You guys, come with me to the monitoring room."
Besides the person who had just gone out to check the situation, there were several other expressionless bodyguards standing around. They stood straight and silent, like puppets that wouldn't move without orders.
Upon hearing Rum's words, the group responded in unison, "Yes."
……
A group of burly men in black surrounded a one-eyed middle-aged man as they left the office and headed outside.
Outside the door was a long corridor, with a door every so often. Each door was closed, without any signs, and there was a palm print recognition device next to each door.
Because this base is old and not many people come and go, these devices are not updated and iterated in a timely manner like other bases; they are all basic models from the early days.
A group of people walked briskly along the corridor without encountering anyone else along the way, and soon they arrived at the monitoring room.
The monitoring room is not large. In front of the monitors that cover the entire wall, there is a desk with three computers on it, each displaying a different image.
Originally, there were only two members sitting in the room, but after they all squeezed in, the room suddenly seemed small.
Rum also noticed the problem with the space, gave a wink, and the two bodyguards at the back silently left the room.
The bodyguard who had reported earlier quickly moved to a corner, secretly breathed a sigh of relief, and looked at the two members.
One of them was an acquaintance; the bodyguard remembered it clearly. He had seen Mr. Glenn instructing this man to do things at a certain base in Tokyo.
Sure enough, the man recognized them too. Upon seeing Rum, he hurriedly tried to get up and make room for them: "You..."
Rum stopped him from getting up, walked behind him and got straight to the point: "Where is Gin now?"
“He went to the dungeon.” This low-ranking member was also very direct.
"A dungeon?" The bodyguard was taken aback.
Rum ignored the subordinate who spoke up, but a colleague standing next to him glanced at him and whispered a reminder: "This happened when you went out. Mr. Ireland found Scotland's whereabouts in the city, subdued him, and ordered someone to bring him back. He has already injected him with diluted muscle relaxant."
The bodyguard wasn't stupid; he immediately understood: "I see."
He didn't ask why he hadn't killed or tortured the captured undercover agent, but had simply drugged and restrained him.
This is a small perk that Lord Rum is giving to his trusted confidants. Mr. Glenn is usually forbidden from making a move on male members of the organization, and it's not safe to target outsiders. These undercover agents, aside from anything else, are all good-looking, so handing them over to him—no matter how he handles them—is perfect.
only……
The bodyguard glanced at one of the screens and sighed inwardly.
Mr. Gin is notorious for his aversion to undercover agents; no rat that falls into his hands ever sees the next day. It seems Mr. Glenn's reward is likely to be dashed this time.
Inside the dungeon, a tall man in black pushed open the dungeon door, his unhurried figure clearly coming into view.
The incandescent light fell on that head of soft silver hair, and the silvery glow flowed down like moonlight.
Rum stared at the screen, his gaze suddenly falling on another person:
"Who's the guy next to Gin?"
The junior staff member in charge of operations glanced at it and replied, "He was transferred here with us not long ago; you probably haven't seen him before."
"Why would Gin contact him?" Rum continued to ask.
The bodyguard immediately knew he was suspicious. All the members transferred to this base, whether codenamed or low-ranking, were Rum's faction and shouldn't have been in contact with Gin. "This..."
The underlying system, which was running smoothly just moments ago, suddenly froze.
At this moment, the colleague who had just answered the bodyguard's question spoke up again: "Mr. Rum, this man has had conflicts with Scotland before."
"Hmm?" Rum looked over.
"After he fled the organization in Scotland, Mr. Glenn, at your request, conducted a screening of the members he had come into contact with, and this person was among them. He had been taught a lesson by Scotland five years ago, and Mr. Glenn believed that such an injury was more than a self-inflicted injury, and since he had not been promoted since, he was deemed to be without fault."
Rum grunted in agreement, temporarily accepting the explanation, and continued watching the surveillance footage.
The surveillance footage was fairly clear, but the audio was intermittent.
I could hear some noises a moment ago, but now I can't hear anything at all for some reason.
Gin wasn't particularly interested in Scotland, which was so close by. He stood by the prison door and leisurely took out a cigarette.
The lower-ranking member who had come in with him, relying on his influence, rushed in front of Scotland. He glanced at Gin, and seeing that the other man didn't come forward, he turned away abruptly, his expression turning excited.
He swung his fist, filled with the triumphant satisfaction of avenging a great grudge, and slammed it heavily into Scotland's face.
No sound was heard in the surveillance footage, but Scotland was clearly hit and fell to the ground.
Everyone in the monitoring room was watching this scene.
On screen, Gin didn't move, only tilted his head slightly, as if he were looking at Scotland on the ground.
The member did something surprising: instead of kicking the opponent a couple more times, he stood there dumbfounded, looking down at the fist he had just thrown, his expression turning astonished.
what happened?
The bodyguard looked at his movements with some confusion.
When encountering something you don't understand, you should observe the leader's attitude. He deeply understands this workplace principle that applies everywhere, and he secretly looks at Rum standing in front of him.
Rum stared blankly at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly, but he remained silent. The others also remained quiet.
So the bodyguards followed their example, remaining silent and continuing to watch the surveillance footage.
The downed Scottish man moved slightly, and it took him a while to sit up again. The diluted muscle relaxant only made it difficult for him to escape, but it didn't prevent him from even performing such a simple movement.
When the lower-ranking member who had been hitting Scotland got up, he pulled out a gun from his waist and pressed it against Scotland's head.
This action made the scene on the monitor chaotic. Scotland had his back to the camera, so they couldn't see his expression, and the lower-ranking member seemed to be shouting something, but they couldn't hear a word.
Gin didn't look at them, but looked at the next cell; the surveillance camera in the next cell showed two people, one big and one small. The big one was Itakura Taku, who was curled up against the wall, and the small one... whoever the small one was, was leaning against the iron bars between the two cells and made a gesture of raising his wrist.
Then--
Then nothing happened.
Scotland's head didn't explode. The lower-ranking member who had been holding the gun moved his hand away, staring blankly at the gun in his hand. A second later, he angrily pressed the muzzle against it again.
This time, he seemed to use all his strength to pull the trigger.
Then, once again, nothing happened.
"........."
The bodyguard stared in disbelief at the scene, feeling as if he were watching a Chaplin slapstick silent film—silent, lively, comical, and utterly inexplicable.
Rum seemed to have had enough. He lowered his head and pressed his Jingming acupoint hard.
Gin seemed unable to tolerate the scene either; he took a drag on his cigarette and finally walked toward the two men.
His footsteps were as silent as a snake. (End of Chapter)