GBP Chapter 271 Gin's Nightmare
Chapter 271 Gin's Nightmare
"Vodka, have the psychological tests for tomorrow and the day after been scheduled?"
After a full day of fieldwork, Gin and his underlings returned to one of the safe houses in Beikacho, Tokyo, to continue their clerical work.
No matter how much he modified it, the Porsche 356A was never a good fit for a proper office environment. Only when the redundant paperwork piled up to a certain extent did Gin deign to move from his drifting old car to the safe house, giving himself and Vodka a brief respite.
Vodka grinned confidently, revealing eight large teeth, and gave a thumbs up: "Don't worry, bro! As you instructed, I plan to have Bourbon on standby in advance and stagger the testing times for the rapid response teams!"
The testing locations are divided into mobile vehicles and fixed locations, so there's absolutely no chance of exposure. You can just get some rest, bro.
"Ah."
After briefly listening to the plan, Gin pointed out a few possible oversights, then took off the pure black trench coat that Four Seasons was welded to his body and went into the bathroom.
Thirteen degrees Celsius cold water poured from the showerhead, gently caressing his collarbone to his toes, gliding over his streamlined, muscular body, causing his muscles to tremble instinctively. His deep green, vertical pupils stared into the void, reviewing the plan:
'Vodka's weakness lies in improvisation; once he's on track, he's practically flawless. Rum's warning went unheeded; he seemed happy to use bourbon to gather information about Butber.'
'Ah, utterly foolish! That gentleman never looked away.'
The fragrance-free gel was pressed into the palm of the hand, and the foam clung to the skin in an ambiguous way. Unexpectedly, the body of this seasoned professional assassin was remarkably... intact.
There were no scabs or scars; his pale skin was as flawless as a white jade, embodying the definition of a perfect physique. In Gin's memory, countless bullet holes and knife tips had pierced deep into the indentations and crevices of his spine, nearly stealing his heartbeat.
Most of them failed, and a few succeeded under the indulgence of high efficiency, but none of them left a trace.
This is the elixir of immortality, an unbreakable bond flowing from that man's blood.
Gin, if that day ever comes, I hope you will be the one to deliver the fatal blow...
Boom!
Gin slammed his fist on the tile, the broken shards piercing his flesh. The pain instantly ignited on the back of his fist, but it was nothing compared to his current annoyance: "Tch."
Why am I thinking about what that man said again? Just recalling it makes me incredibly angry!
"...How ridiculously naive."
Gin raised his hand and turned off the water valve, letting the cold water droplets drip down his fingertips. He roughly wiped himself clean, then wrapped himself in a bathrobe and returned to the dark, lightless room after the lights were turned off, collapsing onto the bed.
...
...Consciousness slowly faded away, the sound of stray bullets cutting through the air accompanied the dream, and memories from twenty years ago gradually became clear.
The battlefields of the Middle East never cease; it is a meat grinder where mercenaries from various countries are trained. Those who manage to survive to the end become deadly weapons.
At that time, heavy industry and technology were far less developed than they are today, and war was a bloody fortress built entirely of human flesh.
Boom—boom!
The artillery fire continued relentlessly, sending sand and dirt flying dozens of meters away, and the shockwaves alone could make the metal shells of the bunkers vibrate and hum.
The pungent smell of blood filled his nostrils; having been immersed in the smoke of battle for so long, Kurosawa Jin almost thought he had lost his sense of smell. He stared at the pulsating sand at his feet, clearly feeling his internal organs writhing restlessly in his abdomen.
Beside him, the man was adjusting his jammed machine gun: "That was a great raid, clean and efficient, without any unnecessary attacks. You did a perfect job, Gin."
Upon hearing his praise, Kurosawa Jin subconsciously replied modestly, "I am still far from the aesthetic sense you have taught me."
He believed he was telling the truth, and that his actions were no different from those of the mercenaries—merely tools for mechanical killing.
But that man was different. He was like death's most familiar dance partner. In the slaughter he wove, the survival and death of life were nothing more than insignificant pauses in the dance.
No one can resist the opportunity to burn themselves out and shine brightly.
"Really." With a helpless sigh, a familiar hand ruffled his hair haphazardly until it was tangled. "As the organization's top killer, you should be a little more arrogant!"
"......"
Kurosawa Jin did not reply; he was no longer as easily manipulated by that man as he had been in his childhood.
"Hey~ Jin-chan, why are you suddenly ignoring Daddy~"
Kurosawa Jin's eyebrows twitched, and he pushed away the guy who was twisting his body and leaning on his shoulder: "Boss, we are still on the battlefield, please be careful of your surroundings."
"Don't worry~" Kuromon Haruya patted his chest, as carefree and relaxed as ever: "With your dad here, these mediocre guys won't be able to hurt you in the slightest!"
Let's see who's behaving more childishly now.
Kurosawa Jin sat up straight, looking directly at the air above his head, demonstrating his thoughts through his actions: by the time he was twenty, his height would have already surpassed that of Kuromon Haruya.
Kuromon Haruya's eyes widened, and he threw down the gun in his arms, about to throw a tantrum in the blood-stained sand: "No! Gin, you've offended my dignity, boss! Apologize now!"
For fourteen years, Boss's appearance has remained unchanged; he is forever young and has such a wicked sense of humor.
Although he claims to have taken a secret drug during World War II, Gin occasionally suspects that the boss is not human, given his exceptional physical skills and seemingly tireless state—especially when Haruya Kuromon himself is not deliberately hiding it from him.
"Boss, please watch out for hidden mines." With a faint smile that he himself didn't even realize was on his lips, Kurosawa Jin stood up and reached out his hand to the childish guy rolling on the ground.
Kuromon Haruya wiped the sand from her cheek, reached out and took his hand, raising an eyebrow and smiling, "Next is..."
[Omen of Death]
The vines of death burst forth from the earth, gripping Gin's ankle and instantly climbing up to his neck. Twisted and blasphemous, the jet-black patterns visible only to Haruya Kuromon coiled on his face, about to erupt!
Kuromon Haruya's mind went blank; she had no time to think of anything else, but her body acted before her thoughts could, lunging towards Kurosawa Jin—
puff!
The bullet pierced his carotid artery, and warm blood splattered on his face.
Kurosawa Jin was violently slammed into a blind spot of the bunker. When he saw everything clearly, his pupils suddenly contracted.
blood.
Crimson, viscous blood gushed from the wound and between the fingers that were pressing, staining the clothes and the sand red.
Fresh blood gushed out in large gushes, like free tap water, scalding and pulsating, flowing away swiftly with the arc of life.
"...Boss?"
Without a second's hesitation, Gin reacted immediately, pressing down with one hand and taking out hemostatic supplies and adrenaline from his first-aid kit:
"Your injury is to your right carotid artery, and the wound is of medium size. Please breathe steadily, remain conscious, and wait for emergency assistance from the organization."
If Gin's hands hadn't trembled so much, it would have been more convincing to Haruya Kuromon.
Looking up at Gin's anxious expression, Kuromon Haruya had a bad feeling:
Oh no, I've gone a little overboard. I was planning to tell Gin this secret when he was older, but this first witnessing has left a rather bad impression.
"Gurgle, gurgle... Gin." Blood foam and bubbling sounds came from the corner of his mouth. Heimon Haruya coughed a few times, but couldn't utter a complete sentence.
Gin leaned down and put his ear to Yoruichi's mouth, his face frighteningly calm: "Boss, I will give Rum a detailed account of your mistake this time."
Oh no, I shouldn't have taken the new medicine Elena gave me today, it's too effective...
Just as Kuromon Haruya was about to close her eyes to escape, Gin forced her eyelids open to meet his gaze: "...cough cough!"
'No, I need to speed up this agonizing drama. If the pursuers catch up, I'll have to unlock even more restrictions.'
As Kuromon Haruya tried to raise his hand, Gin gripped his fingertips tightly, his grip chillingly cold.
"Goo, Gin. Listen to me, quick, kill him..."
Gin bit his lower lip, forcing himself to lean closer to listen to those few words that were almost whispered:
"kill me."
"Kill me now."
Gin's breath hitched for a moment.
His knuckles, which were gripping Kurokawa Haruya's wrist, turned slightly white, but his face remained as calm as still water, with only a barely perceptible tremor passing through the depths of his pupils.
"Father, have you finally gone mad?" He lowered his voice, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "Or... is this also part of your pointless acting?"
Upon hearing his address, Kuromon Haruya's eyes lit up, and he almost jumped up in excitement:
"Kill me first. Then accept my apology, okay?"
"Zhen, my wound really hurts..."
"This is my order."
The man's words suddenly became clear.
What if he could actually be saved? What if the rescue team arrives in the next second? What if this is all a nightmare? What if the boss is really in pain?
Those few brief seconds seemed to consume all of Gin's lifelong panic and helplessness. His fingertips were cold, his throat was dry, and even breathing felt like it was being choked by an invisible hand.
A jumble of thoughts roared in my mind, finally coalescing into a single sentence.
—This is the boss's final order.
Gin's breathing suddenly became heavier.
Numb and without feeling, her left hand went to her waist, and the silver Beretta was drawn and pressed against the man's forehead.
"...I'm sorry." I apologize for startling you.
The next second, the enormous recoil made my wrist ache.
The body beneath him was still warm, but his chest was no longer rising and falling.
The emerald was stained with a muddy turbidity, and the pupils dilated.
Gin slowly knelt down, his fingers trembling as he touched the side of Yoruichi Kuromon's neck—there was no pulse.
died.
he died.
That man died just like that.
His mind went blank, and all he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding.
—He killed the boss with his own hands.
—He killed his own "father" with his own hands.
Everything was like a reprieve before the storm; the lightning had already torn his spirit apart, but the thunder was slow to arrive.
The blood on "that person's" face was congealed.
Gin, however, doesn't understand why he can still breathe.
In an instant, the distant artillery fire and the close-quarters fighting all vanished. Gin could only hear the sound of his own blood rushing backward, roaring up his eardrums.
He was filled with hatred when he was abused by his mother; he felt only exhilaration when he killed that woman. But the throbbing pain in his mind now was something he was experiencing for the first time.
Then, he saw it.
The wound on Kuromon Haruya's neck... is healing at a speed visible to the naked eye?
Flesh and blood writhed, skin regenerated, and within seconds, the fatal wound vanished without a trace, leaving only undried bloodstains to prove it had once existed.
The fallen corpse rose from the underworld, opened its eyes, and its emerald green pupils shone brightly in the smoke.
Kuromon Haruya got up, clutching his neck, and tried to pull Gin behind cover, but couldn't budge him.
"Hahaha... What's wrong, scared?"
In that instant, the clues and hints that I noticed around the boss aligned perfectly.
"Gin? Jin-chan? Is my precious son terrified?"
"..."
"...Oh."
It turns out that when people get really angry, they can unconsciously start laughing.
Gin swore that he had never in his life wanted to punch someone in the face so badly!
Yoruichi Kuromon felt a surge of killing intent and his scalp tingled: "Um..."
Gin chuckled softly and responded with a clicking sound from his knuckles.
...
On the large bed in the dark room, a top killer with long, straight silver hair suddenly fell ill and, in his sleep, violently threw a punch forward: "■■■■!"
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. He stared at the ceiling for a couple of seconds before realizing he was lying on a bed in a safe house.
"Tsk."
Of all the memories, this is the one that comes to mind.
The dream ended, and the time for rest had passed. He quickly and decisively put on his coat and kicked his younger brother, who was fast asleep on the sofa bed, awake.
"Vodka, it's time to get to work."