Two days had passed since the events at the Blue Castle.
Mutsumi Nishikawa's survival had yet to be confird. anwhile, Hayashi Yoshiki was summoned that afternoon to the organization's research facility—the sa one that studied APTX4869.
This ti, however, he imdiately noticed sothing different: the security had clearly been intensified. The atmosphere among the guards was tense, and their stances were more alert than usual.
Hayashi Yoshiki took ntal notes, discreetly observing everything around him.
"Lord Cointreau, please wait a mont."
The security guard stationed outside was notably respectful. He escorted Yoshiki to the biotric lock, swiped his ID card, and input the password to activate the elevator.
Hayashi Yoshiki rely smiled, saying nothing, as he took stock of the guard's facial features. Then, he silently boarded the elevator and ascended to the designated floor.
As soon as he exited, soone was already waiting.
"Lord Cointreau."
"Good afternoon. Where's Gin?"
"Lord Gin is finishing a report. He asked that you wait here for the ti being."
"I see."
Hayashi Yoshiki offered a cordial nod to the female researcher who had co to receive him. His gentle deanor caught her off guard—clearly, she wasn't used to soone so calm and courteous in such a dangerous place. Still, she quickly recovered and escorted him inside.
During their walk through the institute, Hayashi Yoshiki spotted Shiho Miyano.
She was seated in front of her computer, eyes strained, surrounded by several notebooks. At the mont, she was rubbing her temples with a fatigued expression.
By now, she surely understood that Shinichi Kudo had been turned into a child by APTX4869.
But her conscience had kept her from reporting this fact to Gin, and her scientific curiosity was deeply stirred by such an unprecedented effect of the drug.
Still, the endless overti and stricter protocols had worn her down. Two of her recent requests to leave the facility had been rejected, and she didn't know why. Even Gin, Chianti, and Vodka had all been oddly silent about using live test subjects lately.
Yoshiki continued walking, keeping an eye on her briefly before casually turning to the researcher beside him:
"It seems the atmosphere is much more serious than last ti. Did sothing happen?"
"Ah, yes... security has been tightened, but we researchers haven't been told why."
"I see..."
Hayashi Yoshiki pondered silently: Is this increased security due to Japanese law enforcent—or is the threat from that rival group, the 'Zoo'?
The last confrontation between the Black Organization and the Zoo had ended with the death of Snake and several assassins. Since then, there had been no activity from that enemy camp.
Was this a retreat... or preparation for sothing far worse?
"It must be exhausting."
"Huh?"
"Martial law like this makes it hard to go outside, doesn't it?"
"Oh, for us, it's not too bad..."
The researcher smiled bitterly.
"If we have a valid reason, we can still leave for fresh air. But... it's true, two of our latest requests were denied."
Those rejections were from Shiho Miyano.
Even with the facility's strict security, researchers were technically allowed to go out—but only under escort by mbers of the Organization.
As they spoke, Hayashi Yoshiki subtly released hypnotic gas in the air.
He avoided probing too directly, instead leading the conversation so that the researcher revealed insights on her own.
He now understood that aside from Gin, the highest security authority at the facility was a man nad Naoki Matsuzuka—a captain-like figure.
Thankfully, this wasn't the first ti Hayashi Yoshiki had seen the man's face.
"Lord Cointreau."
Naoki Matsuzuka had a stern, military-like bearing. After completing his report, he saluted Yoshiki and left.
Gin was inside the next room.
Without any preamble, he said:
"Follow ."
This ti, Gin had arranged a new psychiatrist—possibly even a professor. Unlike previous sessions with Kyosuke Fudo or Yumi Iwaki, this doctor took a different approach: telling stories, gauging reactions, and drawing conclusions.
Hayashi Yoshiki stayed calm and played along.
After an hour and a half of asured discussion, the doctor concluded the session and reported to Gin:
"Mr. Hayashi's ntal state is... extrely healthy."
Gin's gaze turned cold.
"But," the doctor continued quickly, sweating, "I find sothing unusual. Based on my analysis, Mr. Hayashi appears to be a deeply empathetic, kind, and gentle person. It... doesn't align with his docunted profile."
"Go on."
"I don't think this discrepancy is due to stress or trauma. It's sothing deeper... I just can't explain it."
Gin narrowed his eyes.
The contradiction was glaring. Cointreau—known to the Organization as a killer, a field agent—should not test this clean. That only left one possibility: he's faking it.
But Gin already suspected this. What bothered him more was that none of these psychiatrists had been able to break through the mask.
"So after all this, you still can't give a proper diagnosis?"
"I-I'm sorry. There's nothing more I can say."
"Useless."
Gin's voice dropped like a guillotine.
He'd had enough of these psychological evaluations. Cointreau was clearly playing them all like puppets. Assigning him a few high-risk missions would be a better test of his ntal limits.
Gin began reviewing recent contracts. After a mont, he decided to reassign one of Chianti's sniper kills to Cointreau. Given her current interest in him, she wouldn't mind.
After a brief phone call, Hayashi Yoshiki left the facility.
Once inside his car, he retrieved the Death Note from his coat pocket, flipped to a blank page, and calmly wrote:
Naoki Matsuzuka
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