The moment Stelle finished speaking, she noticed Scotch's gaze turn a little strange.
She hadn't said anything weird, had she? Could he be moved to tears because she was so sensible?!
Stelle silently shook her head—was Scotch so broke that the promise of free food and lodging made him this excited?
They'd barely reached the mall when Stelle and Scotch bumped into an acquaintance: one of the three men Gin had summoned last night, the codenamed Black Organization member, Rye.
Scotch had given her a quick rundown yesterday, so Stelle knew Rye's name was Moroboshi Dai, Bourbon was Toru Amuro, and the man assigned to look after her—Scotch—was Midorikawa Hikaru.
Scotch had also warned her never to use their codenames in public; real names were the rule outside.
After hearing the introductions, Stelle couldn't shake the feeling that the three names sounded off—as if none of them were their real ones.
One person might be coincidence, but when all three gave her the same hunch, she wondered if she was imagining things. Could all of them have joined the Black Organization under fake names?
Rye wasn't alone in the mall; a gentle-featured long-haired woman walked arm-in-arm with him, clearly intimate.
"Hey there, Rye—no, Moroboshi Dai! Long time no see!" Stelle greeted him with exaggerated warmth.
"We met last night," Rye replied, surprised to run into her again so soon.
If his girlfriend weren't beside him, he'd have sidled up to Scotch and Stelle to fish for more intel.
From last night's brief contact, this Miss Stelle hardly seemed like an underground operative—cheerful, yes, but also lacking any real vigilance.
Once introductions were made, Akemi Miyano, still holding Rye's arm, felt exactly the same.
Akemi hadn't expected anyone else in the Organization to be so young—apart from her little sister.
Miss Stelle looked only two or three years older than Shiho. The thought weighed on Akemi; would Shiho end up taking missions just like her someday?
Although Scotch and Rye had once partnered on Organization jobs, they weren't close. After a few polite words—and seeing Rye had a date—they prepared to part ways.
But accidents always strike without warning.
"Out of the way—move!" A frantic shout shattered the calm like a thunderclap.
Everyone turned to see a middle-aged man stumbling wildly toward them, face twisted in panic, clutching a bag that clearly wasn't his.
Three uniformed officers sprinted after him, yelling, "Stop! Don't run!" One barked updates into a handheld radio.
As the man closed in, the crowd rippled backward, desperate to avoid the chase; the scene turned to instant chaos.
"Whoa, another robbery!" Unlike the onlookers, Stelle stretched her neck in delight, eyes sparkling as she watched the drama barrel toward them.
She swiveled to Scotch, curiosity alight. "Scotch, is this world's special feature an endless parade of cases and detectives?"}]