Chapter 154: Tomorrow's Mission
The target slid out to a thousand yards. Natsume, known in this world as Cointreau, was the first to fire.
As expected, the shot was clean. The distant silhouette collapsed.
Next, it was Gin's turn.
He settled behind his own rifle, peering through the scope at the identical target downrange. He slowed his breathing to a crawl, his finger resting on the trigger. Then, he squeezed.
Bang—!
The sharp crack of the rifle echoed across the range. Unfortunately, the target remained standing. Gin's bullet had grazed its edge, punching a hole in the back of the chair it was modeled on.
"Looks like you won," Gin stated, his voice flat. He lowered his rifle, the slightest frown creasing his brow—not disappointment, but a cold dissatisfaction with his own imperfection. After stowing the weapon, he stood and turned to the woman beside him. "Shall we continue?"
"Let's," Natsume replied, not moving from her prone position. She was already preparing for the next shot. "It's rare I get to come out here. I might as well see if I've gotten rusty."
The range extended—1,050 yards, then 1,100, then 1,150. The distance climbed all the way to 1,300 yards.
While Natsume could no longer acquire and fire on the target with the same instantaneous speed she'd shown at the start, her aim remained flawless. The time it took her to line up each shot grew, but she hadn't missed once.
Next came 1,350 yards.
The difficulty spiked. The training ground now simulated a chaotic street environment. The target was no longer static but represented a figure in a car driving at varying speeds, its form occasionally obscured by holographic vehicles and pedestrians.
Natsume's expression was a mask of concentration as she gripped her sniper rifle, her eye fixed on the flickering silhouette in her scope.
Just as her finger began to apply pressure to the trigger, a thought crossed her mind. Her gaze shifted almost imperceptibly, and she tilted the muzzle by a mere fraction of a millimeter.
Bang—!
The gunshot rang out. The bullet screamed past the target, missing by a hair's breadth.
"What a shame, just a little bit off," Chianti remarked from the observation deck, a note of genuine regret in her voice. She had been on the verge of seeing a perfect run.
She truly hadn't expected Cointreau's sniping ability to be this formidable—strong enough to even surpass Gin's. The memory of Gin's earlier miss brought a flicker of malicious glee to her eyes, and she couldn't suppress the smirk that tugged at her lips.
"Ahem." Korn coughed pointedly, shifting his large frame to block Vodka's line of sight. He knew that if Vodka saw Chianti's expression, it would only lead to another pointless argument. "Since Cointreau's sniping is so good, will she be responsible for sniping in future missions?"
"No way!" The question snapped Chianti out of her gloating. A knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. "There are already so few chances to shoot. Is someone else going to come and snatch them up now?"
She didn't want another person competing for the already scarce opportunities to do what she loved. Worse, given Cointreau's skill and status within the organization, if she really wanted those missions, Chianti knew she stood no chance of competing. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Probably not," Vodka said, completely oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing in Chianti. "From what Aniki said, it seems Cointreau is more skilled at close-quarters combat than sniping." He was simply recalling what Gin had mentioned before, and his own observations confirmed that Cointreau's primary role wasn't that of a sniper.
"Really?" Chianti's skepticism was plain. If she didn't know that Vodka wasn't one for idle gossip, she would have assumed he was making it up to placate her.
"Then between Gin and Cointreau, who's stronger in a fight?" Her initial surprise gave way to a new wave of curiosity. If Gin lost at sniping, could he lose in a physical confrontation, too?
Though Korn lacked Chianti's competitive streak, he found himself equally curious about the answer and turned his gaze toward Vodka.
"This… well…" Vodka was completely stumped. He stammered, unable to form a coherent answer.
Down on the range floor, the atmosphere was far colder.
"Cointreau. Have you regressed?" Gin's silver hair seemed to glint as he stared down at her. His eyes had narrowed to slits, his expression unreadable.
"Ah, it seems so. A bit rusty after not using a sniper rifle for so long," Natsume replied, the hint of a smile returning to her face. She seemed entirely unbothered by the veiled accusation in his tone.
"Heh. Is that so?" Gin sneered, neither believing nor disbelieving her excuse.
Just then, Natsume felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Ignoring Gin's searching gaze, she retrieved it and checked the message.
Seeing the sender's name, the polite smile on her face warmed into something more genuine. After reading the contents, she put the phone away. She paused, her thoughts racing, then looked up at Gin.
"Do you have an operation tomorrow?" she asked. "Is it related to Kir?"
Gin's eyes remained fixed on her. "Yes," he confirmed. "This mission requires Kir to use her public identity to assist." He didn't bother asking how she knew. But… "Cointreau, you're getting a bit too much information lately," he added, his voice dropping an octave.
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Natsume said, her tone calm and reassuring. "Thanks." She knew that from a man like Gin, that statement was a direct warning.
"Why are you asking about the mission?" Gin acted as if he hadn't heard her last word. He knew Cointreau was discreet, so he didn't press the intelligence leak further. Instead, he cut to the chase. "Are you planning to participate?"
Even as he asked, he didn't expect an affirmative. Cointreau was notoriously indifferent to the organization's routine missions. Unless a task was specifically assigned to her, she never took the initiative to involve herself in others' affairs.
"Yeah," Natsume said, giving him the one answer that could surprise him. "Count me in."
Gin's frown deepened. "Reason."
"The FBI is currently suspicious of Kir's identity, so there might be complications. Don't worry, I won't interfere with your plan. I'll just be there as a safeguard."
Hearing her explanation, Gin's expression remained grim, but he didn't object. However… "The FBI?"
"Kir frequently visited the hospital where Vermouth was posing as Dr. Araide. That put her on the FBI's radar," Natsume explained, relaying the intelligence she had just received. "Their suspicion isn't deep. If she makes no unusual moves, they'll likely drop their surveillance soon."
Natsume had only discovered today that it was the FBI monitoring Rena Mizunashi. Since she planned to inform her "brother" in the organization, she couldn't just leave it at that. With the help of Nahida and the AI known as Noah's Ark, she had conducted a swift investigation, digging into the monitor's phone data. Not only did they find the reason for the surveillance, but they also identified the agent in charge: Jodie Starling.
"Well?" Natsume finished, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Is Kir still participating in tomorrow's mission?"
"Of course," Gin replied without a flicker of hesitation. His voice was cold as ice. "If Kir can't shake off the FBI, or if they get any use on her, then she's nothing but trash."
He turned to leave, his long black coat swirling around him. "I'll be more careful tomorrow." With those final words, he walked away, leaving Natsume alone on the firing line.
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