Mori Chef's self-cultivation

Although [Assassin]'s assassination operations are always silent, once his whereabouts are exposed, and the target person has a strong enough force value, it is inevitable to make ping-pong-pong noises like ordinary fights.

Kurihara, who let go of his hands and feet, is by no means a low-key type, and he is willing to spend time concealing it—or, he doesn't mind increasing the number of enemies at all.

The hearty fighting and killing is really fascinating.

So it didn't take long for the soldiers stationed outside the house to be startled by the constant voices in the room. They couldn't help but clenched the old-fashioned pistol that represented their identity, and moved towards it cautiously.

But they have no intention of breaking in directly.

After all, in order to prevent natural disasters caused by the leakage of information about "that" thing, Gide had already issued a no-entry order in advance.

Whether it is out of the instinct to obey the superior, or the trust in his own strength and abilities, it hinders the soldiers' urge to find out, and they have to endure it for a while.

——If it’s still like this after 5 minutes, then I don’t care much about it…

"Boom——!!!"

What they didn't expect was that the rescue force from the port mafia came very quickly, as if they had found out their hiding place early in the morning. the gate.

The iron and stone fragments lifted up by the roots fell like a torrential rain.

If you observe carefully, you can find that each piece of them has a faint red light, as if wrapped in a layer of bright blood, like a group of meteorites that are not affected by the earth's gravity.

Immediately afterwards, the leading figure took a heavy step forward, directly causing the hard concrete floor to burst out in continuous mourning, as if being trampled hard by a huge giant beast, followed by dense and terrifying cracks spreading around.

Clap, clap...

Without waiting for it to approach, the constantly cracking ground has already announced the identity of the comer to the soldiers.

——Chuya Nakahara, the trump card of the Port Mafia, known as the "Gravity Maker"!

"Thank you so much for your hospitality."

The orange-haired boy who is active in urban legends raised his hand and pushed the brim of his hat, inspecting the enemy this time with a pair of azure eyes full of storms, then parted the corners of his lips, and raised a smile that was absolutely unrelated to the word friendly, "A group of rats who like to hide and play dirty tricks, I have found your lair—"

Anyone can see how angry he is, almost like an enraged Tyrannosaurus rex, almost spouting substantial flames.

If the two guys who (in a sense) joined forces to create the trap saw him now, they would probably have to put on an innocent and ignorant face, pretending that all the bad things had nothing to do with them.

Being put down by a glass of wine and then being surrounded by his colleagues who arrived a little later in his sleeping position... is enough to rank him as No. 1 of this year's embarrassing incident.

Fortunately, he is very popular, otherwise, he would probably be ridiculed until next year.

——The leader was kidnapped, but he himself fell asleep... Ahhh, this is a complete dereliction of duty!

What's even more tragic is that the reason why he was able to make a comeback and come on stage aggressively and speak harshly was all because of the signal receiver left in his pocket by his deadly enemy at some time, which tracked him all the way to this point accurately. There is no detour at all.

Koyo Ozaki, who came with him, temporarily put away his personal prejudices, and sighed softly for Osamu Dazai's tact.

"Although that kid is not very popular, his resourcefulness is unmatched by others. Zhongye, you still have to learn."

"Miss..."

Zhongyuanzhong was also extremely aggrieved, but the more angry he became, the more speechless he became, so he could only continue to focus his firepower on the source of his displeasure, raising his voice almost like a ghost to determine the end of the enemy.

"Don't worry, none of them can escape today—!"

Without the leader who had the ability to foresee, a group of soldiers who had experienced battles could not stir up too much trouble no matter how desperately they struggled. They were soon beaten to pieces by the attack of the first party and became prisoners of gravity.

The orange-haired boy who cleared the turmoil in the hall was still not satisfied. He picked up a prisoner who couldn't move and couldn't even commit suicide, and asked condescendingly, "Hey, where is your leader? Could it be that he ran away?"

"We will never be deserters..."

Probably being poked at a sore spot, the man in the tattered gray cloak clenched his teeth as hard as he could, telling their core ideas.

However, Zhong Yuanzhong was not satisfied with this.

Fighters have always been too lazy to listen to nonsense, and they are out-and-out efficiency parties. Seeing that they could not get any effective information from the other party, they simply turned around and prepared to search all the rooms at the scene one by one, digging three feet into the ground. It is also necessary to dig out some useful clues.

Based on his analysis of the idea that men should confront each other positively, most of the leaders of "mimic" have been caught in a trick similar to turning the tiger away from the mountain. Otherwise, how could they endure until the entire army is wiped out and not show up?Anyway, if he thinks differently, he can't be so calm.

The red-haired woman who is equivalent to his guardian shoulders the heavy responsibility of finding his own leader.

However, compared to the inexplicable Gide, the hostage Mori Ogai was too relaxed, as if he had switched identities with the former, and when she entered the room, he greeted her first in a very leisurely manner: "It seems that the war It's over."

There was an unexplainable emotion in that tone of voice, and according to Koye Ozaki's sensitivity, she could only vaguely sense that he was a little emotional. As for whether he regretted something or had a windfall, it was out of her scope of thinking guilty.

If a competent subordinate wants to live a long and comfortable life, the last thing he should do is speculate on the thoughts of his immediate superior.

So she covered her lips with her cuff as usual, and responded with a light smile: "Seeing that you are safe and sound, that child Zhongye can finally calm down, so don't feel too guilty."

Of course, where the side drum should be played, it still has to be played.

She is not a simple-minded fighter. She believes that the leader and Osamu Dazai lack the ability to adapt and are forced to leave with the enemy. You know, there is no more cunning guy than these two in the world.

Such a mixed sense of trust really does not know whether to be happy or worried.

"Hmm..."

Mori Ogai let out a guilty cough, indicating that he had accepted the dissatisfaction in her heart, then stood up and shook the windbreaker jacket made of crisp fabric, and held up the seriousness that a leader should have: "In that case, we will go together Reap the fruits of battle, Hongye-kun."

The beautiful woman nodded noncommittally, and turned sideways to make way for him to go out.

Hearing the sound, the men in black suits guarding the hall lowered their eyes respectfully and knelt in his direction in unison: "Boss."

"Execute all the enemies. They have the audacity to invade Yokohama, and they must pay for it."

Completely different from his approachable appearance in private, whenever he returned to his status as a superior, he showed a shocking indifference and indifference, not caring at all how many people would lose their lives for one of his orders.

Even if he was the one who first released the news about "mimic" and introduced it to Yokohama, he has no guilt or soft-heartedness.

Everyone just takes what they need.

After solving the tricky intruders, he can get the business license carefully planned by himself from the government, completely legalizing the port mafia, and no longer have to live a life of internal and external troubles, almost stepping on a tightrope to make a living Uneasy days.

Compared with his ambitions when he was young, he is really much more contented now.

——Sigh, the guys from the Special Agents Division should be content with this.

The uninterrupted gunshots and screams mixed into a shrill background sound, wrapped in a thick and disgusting bloody smell, is far scarier than any horror movie.

Not to mention ordinary people, even the mafia who are used to the occasion of fighting can't help but turn pale in the face of unilateral killings. They feel that the nightmare components of the past week have been booked in an instant, and there is no need to turn on the air conditioner to cool down at night.

Sen Ou looks normal on the outside, and can even direct the orange-haired boy who has no clue, and kindly tells him: "Mr. Zhongye, go to the third room on the left and look for it."

"Yes……"

The named martial arts faction took the order honestly, restrained the impetuousness unique to young people for the time being, and suppressed the thought of "I will definitely punch me to vent my anger when I see the bastard Qingmao" in my head.

Try to ignore personal grievances at work... ignore and ignore.

But when he pushed open the closed door, the scene in front of him made him unable to maintain his mask no matter what, he immediately opened his mouth uncontrollably, and greeted him with a different tone in a trance: "Dazai, you... …is that OK?"

"Huh? It's okay, I'm fine."

The black-haired boy glanced at the unclosed window on the right and the blood-stained scalpel embedded in the rusty edge, then sneered, pulled out the "evidence" that a certain guy had left for him, and held it with his vagina. Qing asked back with an uncertain attitude: "Chuya, if I said that the leader of "mimic" was killed by me alone, would you believe it? "

"Huh? Are you kidding me..."

"Sure enough, even a mindless slug doesn't believe it!"

As if gaining approval, he waved the scalpel childishly, as if he hadn't seen the silver-haired man lying in a pool of blood not far away, he pursed his lips and kept complaining about the script forced upon him.

——Is it plausible to let a war scum take the blame?

As one of the insiders, Mr. Mori might have laughed so hard that his disc protruded from his waist!

Zhong Yuanzhong, who has no right to participate in the Brain School script game, couldn't help his forehead twitching, and he couldn't resist the other party's bad behavior of insulting his IQ as usual-because he really couldn't believe it!Yokohama Killing God Osamu Dazai?Who can believe this? !

The two bitter rivals have reached a rare consensus.

In order to avoid a brain crash, the orange-haired boy barely blocked the buzzing dizziness, and turned his attention to the missing "Hostage Three".But it was fine if he didn't ask, but once he asked, it aroused Osamu Dazai's bad nature, and the vicious words hit his rough nerves.

"She must be seeking comfort in Mr. Mori's arms—"

"Short, this time you made a wedding dress for someone else, wow, it's a tragedy in the world~"