Ming Ke: Everyone at the same time thought I was a poor little thing

At the organization's base in the early morning, several codename members were still training hard. In a corner of the slightly dim bar, a man wearing black sunglasses was mixing drinks behind the bar.

On the single sofa in front, Gin, wearing a black coat, held a cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, sipping it leisurely. A powerful, icy aura emanated from him, separating this area from the training grounds. No one dared to trespass.

"It's really strange that you would call me to come over, Gin." A charming and alluring voice came, and the blonde and red-lipped female star slowly approached with alluring grace.

She pointed to the vodka behind the bar and said, "A glass of Bourbon."

Then she turned her head slightly and looked at Gin with an inquiring look. Vermouth's eyes flickered, and she hesitated in her heart.

Gin is very controlling and suspicious, and has always been disgusted by her mysticism. For this reason, Gin will never contact her on his own initiative except to give mission instructions.

What is it for this time?

Vermouth lowered her eyes, hiding all speculation and scrutiny beneath her long lashes. With a smile on her face, she quietly leaned towards Gin.

Click!

The safety on the gun clicked, and Beretta pointed it straight at her forehead.

"Vermouth, don't test me with your little tricks."

There was a cold murderous intent and warning in Gin's dark green pupils, and his voice was low and ruthless.

This boring guy really dared to shoot her!

Vermouth's beautiful smile froze and she stood up straight. She hated pain and hospitals the most.

Seeing that she had calmed down, Gin got straight to the point: "I heard that Rum captured someone yesterday and wanted to give him a code name directly."

This woman was at the scene and must have more information. It wouldn't be wrong to ask her. As for whether her words were credible, he would judge for himself.

"Bourbon." Vermouth opened her red lips slightly, hooked a strand of curly hair beside her face with her right hand, and said with interest:

"Rum has reported this to Mr. Sir. After meeting the man in person, he gave him the codename, Bourbon Whiskey~"

The simple code name was read out by her in a hoarse and sticky voice, which made people blush and their hearts beat faster for some reason.

Gin looked at her coldly, cigarette in hand, his patience about to run out.

Sensing the crisis, Vermouth immediately put away her seductive aura, took a sip of the bourbon mixed with vodka, and then continued to talk about this matter.

"That kid's name is Amuro Toru, and he's just turned twenty. He's a hidden gem, dazzling and brilliant."

"In your eyes, it's normal for a 30-year-old to still be a child." Gin sneered, implicitly mocking the woman's age.

Vermouth was used to his sarcasm and was not angry.

When she thought of Bourbon, her expression was trance-like, and she couldn't help but blurt out praise, "It's like the pinnacle of human wisdom, like the British consulting detective Sherlock Holmes in the world, shining and dazzling."

It was an accident that she met the detective. She had just arrived in Japan the day before yesterday to temporarily command an operation for Rum. She found out that the target person was in the Beika Shopping Mall, so she disguised herself and went there in person to obtain information.

It was a beautiful day, and the Rice Flower Mall was bustling with activity. As soon as she entered the mall, she was immediately drawn to the man.

That was a detective full of childishness.

He wore a light-colored beret crookedly, his bright blond hair hidden inside. He was wearing a cloak of the same color, and his wheat-colored skin was very handsome.

He looked very energetic, with innocence in the corners of his eyebrows and eyes, and his puffed cheeks when eating ice cream were also childishly cute.

The ruthless Thousand-Faced Witch couldn't help but stop for a moment for the detective, and in this moment, an accident happened.

“Ah! Someone’s dead!!”

A shrill, horrified cry shattered the tranquility of the mall. A woman, munching on an ice cream cone, collapsed to the ground. A panicked crowd rushed out. Security struggled to contain the crowd and quickly called the police to cordon off the area.

After inspecting the scene, Inspector Megure of the Investigation Division ruled out suicide and determined that the deceased died of poisoning. He quickly identified three suspects, one of whom was Vermouth, who had spoken with the deceased.

"Ma'am, where were you and what were you doing when the deceased died?" the police officer asked as a routine question.

Vermouth: As expected, flowers in the dark should not get close to the light, otherwise misfortune will happen immediately.

She tapped the phone to indicate she'd be in touch later, and Rum tactfully kept quiet. Just as she was about to explain, she heard a lazy, mumbled voice.

"The murderer is obviously the deceased's husband. He had an affair with the deceased's best friend and was discovered by the deceased. He was afraid that the deceased would tell her father and kick him out of the house and the company, so he killed her."

It's Mr. Detective.

The blond and dark-skinned detective was eating an ice cream cone, his handsome face full of boredom and irritation.

Yes, he is another suspect.

Because he sat with the deceased and ate ice cream.

The detective wrinkled his face childishly and said quickly, "The poison is potassium cyanate. The dead man's mouth smells of poison. You can smell it for yourself."

"The poison was put on the deceased's ring. She liked to change her wedding ring whenever she was happy or unhappy. The poison got on her finger and she accidentally swallowed it while eating an ice cream cone."

"Damn it, he even didn't let go of the ice cream cone." The detective glared at the third suspect in dissatisfaction and stuffed the ice cream cone into his mouth in a few gulps.

He puffed up his cheeks and mumbled, "The evidence is the drug residue in the secret compartment under the watch face of the deceased's husband. He bought the drug from an information dealer. If you're quick, you might be able to bust an illegal smuggling ring. Don't ask me how I know this; isn't it obvious?"

He finished speaking confidently, then said unhappily, "The case is solved. I'm hungry and I'm going to get some snacks. Do you want to talk about the transcript? I'll go to the Metropolitan Police Department to do it when I have time. I'm leaving now."

The last suspect, the deceased's husband, had a ferocious expression on his face: "What's wrong with me killing her? She relies on her wealth to look down on me and bosses me around..."

"I don't want to hear you." The blond, dark-skinned detective capriciously covered his ears and yelled, completely disregarding the occasion. "Your grudge has nothing to do with me. I want to leave... Ah!"

As the criminal rushed over angrily, the young man cried out softly and quickly hid behind... Vermouth.

"?"

A question mark popped up over Inspector Megure's head. Shouldn't you call the police when you encounter danger? Why are you hiding behind a thin lady?

Inspector Megure stopped talking until the lady kicked the criminal, who was twice as strong as her, to the ground.

Okay, so awesome!

His expression was extremely complicated. The young man was really good at judging people. If he really hid next to him, it wouldn't be so easy.

The prisoner rolled to the police's feet and was held down by two officers.

Seeing this, the detective poked his head out from behind Vermouth, smiled sweetly at her, and said softly, "Thank you, sister."

Oh, he's so cute~

This smile went straight into Vermouth's heart.

After the case was solved extremely quickly, both of them postponed going to the police station to take statements on the grounds that they had something to do, and left the mall together tacitly.

As soon as they reached a secluded place, they all stopped. Before Vermouth could speak to test the waters, the detective circled around her with a look of excitement and said excitedly, "Wow, I was right. You are the big secret."

Vermouth raised an eyebrow with interest, took a step back, and said in a soft, yet alluring voice, "What did you find out by following me, little cutie?"

This opening gave the originally shy and introverted lady an indescribable charm.

The detective didn't object to the nickname 'cutie'; secrets were always treated with favor in his presence, and he even showed a tolerance that was completely different from his childish willfulness.

"I noticed it at the mall. Even though you've adjusted your walking posture, you still exude a kind of confidence and arrogance from the inside out. This is completely different from your pretty face and the temperament you display. You're a good actor. So your face is fake, and your identity is fake too."

"When someone takes your picture, you subconsciously adjust the angle to be perfect. You wear a faint perfume from an international brand, endorsed by American actress Chrissy Wynyard. You are a public figure."

He spoke very quickly, and coincidentally, the advertisement played on the mall's advertising screen was Chris's endorsement advertisement.

The detective only took a glance and concluded with certainty: "You are her."

A hint of surprise flashed in Vermouth's eyes. She had never expected to be exposed in such a short encounter. It was unbelievable. She did not try to quibble or make some small gestures to dispel the misunderstanding, but stared at the detective curiously.

The detective suddenly approached her, squeezed her arm under her ambiguous gaze, and then quickly released her hand. His expression was so serious that there was no chance of misunderstanding or ambiguity. It was obvious that he was just trying to confirm a certain hypothesis.

"Your footfall and strength are off, and your muscle density is much greater than that of an average woman. You have combat training, are quite skilled, and are skilled with a spear. The news reported that you were ill and recuperating in the United States some time ago, but this is clearly a lie. You have quietly infiltrated Japan for some purpose."

The detective spoke freely, "You kept touching the earpiece next to your ear. That's a communication device. You've been in constant contact. The disguises, the voice changes, the skills unbecoming of a female star, the clandestine entry, the mission, and the fleeting dark aura when you treated the criminal who nearly offended you... I get it."

Without a second thought, he blurted out, "There's a massive organization behind you, and you're a member of it. The person communicating with you through the headset is a colleague. He's not rushing you, and you're not rushing to complete the mission or report back. You should be on the same level. No, in some ways, you're superior to him."

"I've never heard of your organization, nor have I encountered it in real life." The detective frowned, then suddenly realized, "You've silenced everyone who knew about it... This is troublesome."

He seemed to finally react, his eyes widened instantly, he took a few steps back in panic, pursed his lips tightly, and his face turned slightly pale.