Chapter Sixteen: Disguise Requires Plain Glasses!

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Piske was dead, Ireland was dead, and the official Piske was responsible for liaising with had also slipped out of the organization’s control. When this news reached Rum, the organization’s second-in-command, he was utterly stunned.

He couldn’t fathom how things could have escalated to such an extent. How could a mere urban legend from a small town single-handedly wipe out dozens of the organization’s peripheral members overnight and take out both Piske and Ireland?

This all happened inside the car company Piske had managed for years!

Had Piske completely wasted himself over these years, leaving him with no combat ability at all?

Even if Piske had lost his fighting edge, Ireland certainly wouldn’t be powerless, would he?

Others might not know Ireland’s true combat strength, but Rum was aware. After all, since Gin and Piske were at odds, Ireland’s relationship with Gin wasn’t great either, so Rum had decided to bring Ireland over to his side.

Yet now, Ireland had inexplicably died suddenly in the tiny Mihana Town.

How could Rum not be shocked?

“Hissss—Is this ‘Half-Human Half-Ghost, Number One Sharpshooter’ really that terrifying?”

Rum sat in his small room, holding a cigar in his hand. On the table beside him rested a bottle of red wine and a glass filled a third of the way. He pondered aloud, puzzled.

This situation was simply outrageous. If he were really that powerful, why stay confined to Mihana Town?

Shouldn’t he be shining all over the world, like that Russian Plamia?

“This is utterly baffling. Now Gin says he wants to send his team to Tokyo to help deal with this urban legend. Kurasso, what do you think?”

Kurasso, standing silently behind Rum, said nothing.

She didn’t know much about Gin or his team, had never been to Mihana Town, and was unaware of the urban legend.

So she knew nothing and had no voice in this matter.

Predicting her reaction, Rum shook his head and muttered to himself.

“If Gin wants men, I’ll approve it—let Chianti and Korn go help.”

“Kurasso, contact the nearest organization outposts and send more peripheral members over. Whatever happens, it’s on Gin. If he wants reinforcements, I’ll give him reinforcements.”

“By the way, Vermouth has already gone to Mihana Town to investigate this urban legend.”

“Send her another message—have her replace Piske and finish the task he left incomplete. We can’t let this incident affect the organization’s future expansion in Tokyo.”

Though Piske was gone, Vermouth’s presence would have the same effect.

As long as someone could keep threatening that official and then eliminate him once he lost value, it would be fine. Vermouth, who could change her appearance freely, might even be better suited for the task.

Upon hearing Vermouth’s name, Kurasso’s eyes sharpened.

But she said nothing, simply turning and leaving the room to carry out Rum’s orders.

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*Sizzle—*

Rum pressed the cigar into the water in the ashtray, extinguishing the ember.

He muttered to himself.

“A small town’s urban legend, yet it claims to be ‘Half-Human Half-Ghost, Number One Sharpshooter.’ Incredible. Let’s see just how ghostly this half-human is, and how ‘number one’ this sharpshooter really is!”

“Hmph, such a vast net—he won’t escape it even if he sprouts wings!”

—————

“So few people, and they think they can kill me? Delusional!”

“The bandits of Kanto Mountain are equipped with all sorts of heavy and light weapons, vast deserts, high-speed vehicles, and yet I wiped them out clean all by myself. Just three submachine guns and dozens of pistols? Hmph, what a pipe dream!”

Hikaru Nara stood at one of the safe points he had set up within Mihana Town.

He hung the submachine gun he held on the wall and swept his gaze around.

The room was scattered with all kinds of weapons and equipment—from pistols, katanas, eagle claw hooks, to homemade explosives.

There were even pistols modified from models and homemade guns crafted from two pipes and tape.

If he used them all, even the former prime minister of this country could easily be forced to open up!

*Beep beep, beep beep—*

The phone’s message tone rang again.

Hikaru Nara took out his phone once more and flipped it open.

The sender, as expected, was Asai Narumi.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

This guy was really troublesome. He thought he should have been more decisive back then.

If on his first day at Tsukikage Island he had wiped out all those vile heroin dealers and manufacturers and left, Asai Narumi would never have discovered who had acted—and certainly wouldn’t have found him.

[Mr. Nara, the car company’s building is now surrounded by the Metropolitan Police.]

[Please stay safe recently. If injured, you can have the clinic contact me... I’ve almost finished investigating the matter you mentioned before, and I’ll send you the exact coordinates next.]

[Tokyo City, Ekoda District... Residence.]

[Asai Narumi]

Hikaru Nara opened his phone and replied.

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[Read.]

He then closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.

“Next, Gin will probably organize counterattacks and hunts against me.”

“But the timing should be greatly delayed... The Public Security Bureau, led by Rei Furuya, will most likely also begin hunting me. If necessary, I should learn disguise techniques.”

Hikaru Nara pulled a map from the drawer and spread it on the desk.

Only now did he remove his sunglasses and place them to the side.

If Gin, Piske, or those black-clad organization members saw his face, they would be shocked—he looked very young, barely in his early twenties.

“Let me see where would be convenient to check out next…”

Marking locations on the Mihana Town map, he outlined his upcoming plans.

Then Hikaru Nara folded the map and put it back in the drawer, turning to look into the mirror.

The reflection showed no hint of sharpness or killing intent—he looked like an ordinary, harmless college student.

But merely removing his sunglasses was not enough to conceal his identity.

He usually employed other disguises, such as—

Hikaru Nara took a pair of clear-lens glasses from a nearby case and put them on.

Instantly, this image was completely disconnected from the lethal urban legend of Mihana Town.

“...Every time I see how effective clear-lens glasses are as a disguise, I’m amazed.”

He whispered.

“Though those close to me might still recognize me at a glance.”

“But I have no close ones, no one I can trust. So no one can see through my disguise.”

One of Kanto Mountain’s survival rules: trust no one but yourself; keep distance from everyone.

Hikaru Nara had learned this well, and always had.

Night deepened.

No light escaped from the safe house.