"This is my son, Hayato Tunkouchi."
Shigehiko Tsuchiguchi's smile was contagious. A seasoned politician, his calm yet powerful tone easily swayed crowds. Looking at him, it was hard to imagine he treated the Congress like a nightclub.
Kazawa lowered his head and followed silently. When introduced, he stepped forward to greet the tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in black, who returned the friendly smile.
"Hello, I'm Hayato Tunkouchi."
Vodka glanced oddly at Hayato's bright and handsome face through his sunglasses. Then his eyes flicked to a photo he held — a man with bangs hiding his eyes, looking dark and gloomy. He studied both back and forth before pulling out another photo of Kazawa and holding it up for comparison.
"Alright, come with me." Vodka said nothing about Kazawa's strikingly different appearance from the photo. He only nodded and motioned Kazawa to follow.
Zhongyan's face lit with joy, sensing hope. He spun around and slapped Kazawa hard, whispering with vicious intent, "I fought tooth and nail to get you this chance. If you mess it up..."
Kazawa cursed inwardly at the bastard but kept a blank expression. He bowed slightly and said softly, "Thank you, Father. I will do my best."
Satisfied, Shigehiko Tsuchiguchi stepped aside. Kazawa adjusted his cuffs and tie, then followed Vodka.
Unknown to most: when a P5 teammate leaves the team, their equipment automatically transfers to the item bar, and replacements follow the same rule.
Even a traitor like Goro Akechi left behind all his gear, including his original outfit.
Thus, Kazawa now owned two sets of Goro Akechi's original costume — usable and interchangeable.
At this moment, Kazawa was a perfect copy of Goro Akechi in P5: striped tie, khaki double-breasted jacket, black gloves, and silver suitcase in hand. Anyone would think he was a traitor.
"Gin, open the door. A new traitor has arrived!"
And Gin really opened it.
This was the Organization's safe house — small, like a regular room, but lined with shelves full of weapons and ammunition. Gin sat before the weapons, smoking with a cold, oppressive gaze.
But Kazawa wasn't fazed.
He welcomed the scrutiny like a future star comedian checking out a new bar product and smiled broadly.
After roughly verifying the newcomers, Gin threw two file bags onto the table.
"Read these and destroy them." He pointed first at the left bag, then the right, "Your ID."
Kazawa picked up the left bag and found documents with the name "Kazawa Hayato."
It was a basic profile and biography, including objectives for Kazawa. Though it wasn't the full extent of Organization intel, the summarized personality and past were very useful.
Kazawa read carefully, then lit the papers one by one, watching them curl and blacken in the flames.
When all was burnt to carbon, he blinked awake, picked up the other bag, and checked the identity documents inside.
The Organization's HR was terrible. No wonder the poison content was so high.
The FBI no longer used "psychopath tests." Why was the Organization still screening behaviorally? Reverse screening? They're terrorists, not legit companies.
Well, lucky for them, Kazawa was prepared.
Despite inward complaints, Kazawa carefully examined the identity documents — passports, driver's licenses, visas, even a concealed carry permit under the name "Akechi Goro." Thoughtful, indeed.
Satisfied, Kazawa arranged the papers neatly, put them back in the bag, and closed it.
"Your test results are average. You should know why Hayato chose you for this mission." Gin eyed Kazawa, cigarette in hand.
Kazawa twitched, wanting to respond, but finally smiled gently: "I understand. My target and I share a similar age, height, and somewhat similar appearance. It makes disguise easier."
"Good." Gin nodded, placing a medicine box on the table. "Take one."
Without hesitation, Kazawa swallowed the pill.
Gin watched to ensure he really took it, then explained, "This is your antidote. From now on, Shigehiko Tsuchiguchi can't control you directly. Unless you allow it, he can't manipulate your actions."
Kazawa nodded calmly.
"Complete this mission and you'll get your own codename. Fail…" Gin raised the red cigarette butt near Kazawa's chest, "Just pray the hunter chasing you isn't me."
"I understand completely." Kazawa's expression returned to sunny and cheerful. "May I make a request?"
"This is your reward. Speak."
"I want Shigehiko's life." Kazawa smiled brightly, eyes curved.
The way he said it reminded Gin of some annoying colleagues who smiled all day.
Gin knew Bourbon's hot temper behind that gentle smile. Bourbon hated fakers like Kazawa. Gin didn't know why, but guessed it was because they were opposites.
Gin grinned maliciously, wondering how Bourbon would feel if Kazawa, an arrogant newcomer, became Bourbon's subordinate after success.
Extinguishing his cigarette, Gin said, "No matter what, he's still Organization. You can't just kill him on a whim. Prove you're worth it."
"Kazawa is worth it. That bastard won't live long anyway. Too greedy and easily distracted by shallow women. The police have evidence of his bribes and money laundering. The Organization will clean him up soon." Kazawa replied politely with a smile.
"Hope you're as good at action as talking." Gin motioned Vodka to escort Kazawa.
Kazawa narrowed his eyes and smiled, nodding to Vodka in thanks as he followed quietly, almost laughing inside.
Who was to blame for the Organization's leaks? Look at Gin's recruitment style — classic!
You need to know who you're filtering out: gangsters and street thugs with no formal education and violent tendencies, or trained agents ready for tests.
If Teru Hoshikawa was here, he'd be riddled with bullets by now.
Not just because of strength gaps — Teru's usual performance and test scores weren't comparable — but because of his suspicious, irritable, insecure nature.
Teru could never be a loyal dog, letting anyone put a collar on him.
Luckily, Kazawa was ready and experienced. Gin must be in a good mood.
Forget it, this is the only fun left for a comedian surrounded by undercover agents. Let him have his dream.
"Wait." Gin's voice stopped Kazawa from leaving. "Are you wearing contact lenses?"
"Yes." Kazawa turned back.
"Take them out and come here." Gin pulled out another cigarette, lighting it himself.
Here comes the highlight.
Kazawa nodded and took out a lens case. He carefully removed two colored contacts.
Gin eyed the lenses coldly and motioned Vodka to check Kazawa's closed eyes with his gun.
Getting used to the dry feeling, Kazawa blinked and opened his eyes — revealing eerie golden irises, faintly glowing in the dark.
Gin leaned in, touching Kazawa's face to confirm real skin, no disguise mask.
"Why colored contacts?" Gin raised an eyebrow.
"Kazawa's father hates these eyes. Said they look like a monster." Kazawa smiled again.
Gin sneered and stood. "Alright, let's go."
Kazawa packed the lens case and lighter, flicking a flame toward Gin's unlit cigarette.
The newcomer was brave.
Gin grinned and let Kazawa light his cigarette.
"Senior?" Kazawa said uncertainly, taking back the lighter. "Being too suspicious isn't healthy."
This newcomer was truly fearless.
Vodka stepped back reflexively when Gin fired his gun.