Daikoku Building
From the outside, it looked like just another ordinary comrcial building.
The cocktail bar on the top floor was discreet. It rarely saw custors on weekdays and was often closed to the public.
Hayashiki arrived almost exactly on ti.
As he pushed the door open, his first impression was how deserted it seed.
The bar wasn't very large.
Dim yellow lights spilled from the ceiling, illuminating the cypress-wood counter and the well-stocked shelves behind it. The bartender stood silently behind the bar, polishing glasses until they glead. Only two patrons sat at the bar, both dressed in black.
One was tall and burly—Vodka, like a personal bodyguard. The other was Gin, a cigarette burning between his fingers.
"Here cos this guy, bro," Vodka muttered with a sneer as he spotted Hayashiki approaching.
Gin's cold eyes shifted in his direction.
Half-hidden beneath the brim of his hat and ssy bangs, Gin's dark green eyes locked onto Hayashiki's with a chilling lack of warmth.
"Good evening, Mr. Gin, Mr. Vodka," Hayashiki greeted them in a soft voice, his smile calm. "What did you need from tonight?"
Compared to his dayti appearance, he now wore a pair of silver-frad glasses.
His smile curved exactly the sa as always.
Yet the way his eyes narrowed behind the lenses gave off an unsettling feeling—gentle, yes, but there was a glint of sothing darker behind them.
Vodka found him repulsive. He could hardly suppress a sneer.
Gin, on the other hand, gave a faint grin.
His pupils, smaller than average, radiated a sinister and predatory intensity.
"There's a job for you."
"What kind?"
Gin didn't answer.
Instead, Vodka handed over an envelope.
Hayashiki took it calmly.
As he sat down at the bar, the bartender asked, "What would you like to drink?"
"The sa as them."
"Understood."
The bartender began preparing the cocktail in silence.
Hayashiki opened the envelope. On top was a photograph of a man, likely in his thirties, wearing a black turtleneck under a light blue jacket. His face was well-ford and attractive.
Below the photo was a na and brief profile:
Hironobu Kishiyuki
After morizing the man's appearance and na, Hayashiki heard Gin speak:
"Tomorrow night at 11 o'clock, in the second alley west of the Beika Aquarium—kill him."
"Eleven o'clock? Are you sure he'll be there at that ti?" Hayashiki asked without hesitation.
"Of course," Vodka replied with a smirk. "He won't suspect anything. As far as he knows, it's just another routine eting."
"So... a traitor?"
"He's just a little rat," Gin growled, eyes flashing with nace. "Sniffing around the organization, doing dirty side deals. If he were a traitor, I'd kill him myself."
That was classic Gin.
He had a reputation as the Organization's top enforcer, not just because he was constantly killing traitors—but because he relished it.
He had no tolerance for weakness or betrayal.
The only sound in the bar was the quiet rhythm of cocktails being mixed.
"Gypsy, for you."
The bartender placed a glass of clear amber cocktail in front of Hayashiki.
He picked it up, took a small sip, then set it back down.
Gypsy—a vodka-based cocktail mixed with French liqueur and a dash of bitters. It had a light sweetness, but the herbal aroma couldn't mask the strength of the alcohol.
The bartender then brought out a second drink.
"Orange Blossom, for you."
A vivid orange-red cocktail served in a classic glass.
Hayashiki tasted it.
This gin-based cocktail was far more pleasant. Though Cointreau added to its alcoholic strength, its dominant flavors ca from fresh orange juice, li juice, and pogranate syrup—a much smoother finish.
Vodka and gin...
Each man had ordered a drink based on his code na.
Fitting, really.
Both spirits were highly distilled—gin being flavored with botanicals like juniper and citrus peel, while vodka was simply diluted with water.
No wonder Gin always dragged along Vodka—his less refined, dimr counterpart.
After finishing the Orange Blossom, Hayashiki placed the target's dossier back in the envelope, tucked it away, and stood up.
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going."
Neither of the two responded.
Hayashiki left the bar and stepped into the street.
Even at 9:30 p.m., the city was still buzzing.
Passing a sharp-looking stranger on the sidewalk, Hayashiki raised a hand and hailed a taxi. As he got in and gave the address, he pulled out a pen and a slip of paper.
It was a torn page from the Death Note.
Since arriving in this world, he hadn't expected to get involved with the darker elents so soon. He had beco affiliated with the Organization—low-ranking, and without a code na.
Although Gin's "model employee" reputation had almost beco a in later arcs, Hayashiki knew better: the man was genuinely lethal.
So he had prepared ahead of ti.
With the Death Note, which could dictate the cause of death like a screenplay, things beca far simpler.
He began to write.
Inoue Murao
-> At 9:00 p.m. on March 18, he wandered around the Daikoku Building in Beika City. He remained there for 48 minutes until he witnessed a young man in a black coat and silver-frad glasses calmly leave in a taxi. He then lived a normal life until dying by suicide—hanging himself at 3:46 a.m. on April 10.
The exact cause and ti of death didn't matter.
What mattered was that he would see Hayashiki's calm exit.
That mont of being observed gave Hayashiki an airtight alibi.
...
As the taxi made its way toward Mihua Second Apartnt, Hayashiki's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
A sudden sensation made him feel as if he were being watched.
He began scanning the cars behind them.
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