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

Vermouth leaned leisurely on the motorcycle, thinking excitedly whether she should let the intelligence team find out who this little cutie is. If he is really capable, he can be absorbed into the organization.

After all, this kid is brave enough and cautious enough to challenge the FBI in front of the whole United States. His courage is commendable.

Vermouth is interested in becoming an HR in an organization.

But, does that voice sound familiar?

Vermouth was suspicious.

The body in the video doesn't appear for long, but it's long enough for people to tell whether it's real or fake.

The FBI officers were furious and started cursing at the person on the computer.

The familiar man in the black suit reappeared, and in that elegant, deep voice, he politely said, "I'm Tennessee Whiskey. FBI, you know what I need. I look forward to seeing you next time. Goodbye."

The live broadcast signal was cut off, the sky in New York was broken, and the White House directly called to question the situation.

At this time, Vermouth, who was gloating over the watermelon on the side of the road, was shocked.

Damn it? !

The melons are eaten in your own melon field.

Tennessee bastard!

Vermouth almost swore: "Fuck you, you just came to New York and you're already causing trouble for me! And you're so high-profile!"

Since you knew to conceal your identity and appearance, why did you have the audacity to reveal the code name?

Are you afraid that the FBI won’t be able to find the organization?

Your efforts to attract hatred to the organization are really touching.

Just by doing this, the organization's New York branch was in trouble.

And she will have to keep quiet for a long time to avoid being caught by the New York authorities.

Vermouth kicked the accelerator and sped towards the hamburger shop. Her beautiful face turned ferocious, and she wished she could kill that bastard with her motorcycle.

I completely forgot that I had just praised the other person for his courage.

In the storage room of the hamburger shop, Rei Furuya took off his suit, put on his school uniform again and left.

He took out his phone and contacted a member of the company. He said casually, "Strawberry Daifuku, send your mistress to Japan as soon as possible. Someone will be there to pick you up. Just hand her over to them."

"Yes, President."

After hanging up the phone and sending a message to Yuya Kazami, Rei Furuya found a deserted place, took out a small bottle of gasoline, poured it on his suit, took out a lighter, lit it and threw it on.

He chuckled as he watched the flames grow.

It feels so good to challenge the FBI.

There was a happy smile on the corners of Jōgō Rei's eyes and brows.

Of course, he did leave a way out. After all, it didn't matter if he offended the FBI, but he couldn't really label himself a murderer.

He is a public security policeman!

If he took the lie and took the blame for the FBI deputy director's death, it would be a diplomatic incident.

That mistress is the witness who will prove Furuya Rei's innocence in the future, and the physical evidence has been collected by the company members.

Everything works seamlessly.

All he had to do was protect Tennessee's vest from falling off.

As for mentioning in front of all the citizens of New York that the FBI knew what he needed - he had revealed such a unique code name, so of course he wanted the FBI to bite the organization.

He was happy at the thought that the half-dead old man was being stared at to death, as his real goal had been achieved.

He personally fed the food into the FBI's mouth. If this could make people take the food out of their mouth, he could only say that they were trash.

After watching his suit burn into a pile of black garbage, Rei Furiya heard the hum of a motorcycle behind him.

The roar of the engine stopped, and he looked back to see Vermouth pointing a gun at him.

He chuckled silently: The old crow has taken the bait.

Vermouth was holding a gun in one hand and talking on the phone with the other.

"Yes, I'm sure that's Deputy Thomas. I've got Tennessee, he's right in front of me. Good."

Vermouth handed the phone to Rei Furuya and motioned for him to answer it.

Fūya Ling raised an eyebrow as he took the phone, crushing the signal transmitter on the hem of his clothes without leaving any trace. The headset hidden in his ear made a soft beeping sound.

Vermouth's phone quickly swiped across a string of codes, which soon disappeared without causing any abnormality.

"Mr. Furuya, we've connected to the cell phone signal and are tracking—"

At this moment, the mechanical sound of the BOSS's disguise rang out.

"Tennessee, what do you want to do?"

His voice seemed quite calm. No one knew how frozen his expression was when he first heard that Tennessee was causing trouble. Rum was so scared that he immediately put the oxygen mask on him, fearing that the boss would have a cerebral hemorrhage and die.

Fūya Zero felt a little regretful in his heart. Why didn't he make the old crow angry to death? Fortunately, everything is going according to plan now.

Furuya Reihan lowered his head, speaking glumly and in a coquettish tone, "I just wanted to have some fun, but the FBI is so boring. Their slow reactions are incredibly slow. Are they all just old oldies?"

In short, it is to delay time until the boss's location is tracked down in the country.

The boss coughed a few times, his voice revealing a hint of indulgence, like tolerating a reckless and naughty child at home: "Your pursuit of fun has caused quite a bit of trouble for the organization. You're such a bad boy."

Fūya Rei dropped his pretense, spoke in a relaxed tone, and the smile on his lips was tinged with mockery: "Oh? How do you want to punish me, a bad boy, sir?"

Vermouth stood aside with her arms folded, alert for anyone breaking in, and listened attentively to the fight between Tennessee and the boss.

She tossed her golden hair, her posture was charming, her smile was mysterious and affectionate, but her eyes were obscure.

Furuya Rei was still chattering, "I was just too lonely, so I built an amusement park in New York. Sir, please be understanding. Missions require a balance between work and rest."

"Your combination of work and rest has exposed the organization to the public. Tennessee, you're too willful." He spoke gently, then suddenly changed the subject, as if sending his own child on an exchange student, and chuckled, "Gipson, the head of the New York branch's laboratory, wants to understand your condition. You should talk to him."

The old man ordered in a commanding tone: "You are having so much fun, you can't let Bourbon and Camus sleep all the time. Let them out for some fresh air, good boy, learn to be fair."

Fūya Rei's face darkened. Even the boss's euphemism with such high emotional intelligence could not cover up the stench and blood underneath.

The boss wanted to take the opportunity to send him to the laboratory to tamper with it.

"You'll have to finish the FBI business yourself."

"Stop being so lively, Tennessee." He was warning Rei Furuya not to cause trouble again.

"Although you have your own power, I believe you did not join the organization to make an enemy." The boss was unexpectedly frank.

He knew that Miyano Toru was not a member of the organization and his purpose in joining the organization was not pure.

But once you become a member of the organization, you can never leave.