Negotiating an Alliance, Part 1
After Vodka dropped Vermouth off at her residence, Gin had him drive to one of the Organization's research facilities.
Alhaitham opened the laboratory door and faced Gin, who followed him inside. "It's after hours. You'd better have a very good reason for dragging me out of bed."
Gin paid the remark no attention whatsoever. Now that they'd reached the lab, he simply held out the bottle he'd been carrying.
"Analyze this compound. How long will it take?"
Alhaitham recognized the bottle at a glance, though nothing in his expression betrayed it. He accepted it, made a show of examining it, and answered, "Come back tomorrow morning at nine for the results."
With that precise answer in hand, Gin turned and left.
Once Gin was gone, Alhaitham dealt with the lab's surveillance feeds, then left the bottle exactly where it was and headed back to his room for more sleep.
One look inside the bottle told him everything: it was an alchemical Life Potion — the high-grade version, no less. Only one person alive could brew something this fine, and that person was Lisa. When you already knew the maker, all it took tomorrow morning was a quick message asking what was in it, and he'd have his answer. Running the analysis himself would be a pure waste of time.
Ever since Sherry's defection, the old laboratory had been bombed to rubble, and the past several days had been swallowed up by the relocation. He'd finally earned himself a proper rest, and he had absolutely no intention of spending it on overtime.
Back in his room, Alhaitham took out a USB drive — the one containing the data on APTX4869 he'd copied during his earlier infiltration. He'd skimmed it once already. The material was incomplete, and most of it consisted of research from Sherry's later period, focused largely on programmed cell death. Nothing about rejuvenation, which presumably reflected the direction her research had shifted at the time. He wondered whether any of it overlapped with the documents Kaeya had obtained today. He'd have to find an opening to slip out and deliver it to the Traveler soon.
The next morning, at the Organization's laboratory.
Gin and Vodka walked in to find Alhaitham sitting at his desk reading a book, yesterday's potion sitting untouched on the table in front of him — it might never have been moved at all.
At the sound of Gin's voice, Alhaitham simply handed him a sheet of paper: the potion's analyzed composition.
"Analysis is complete. Nothing but common plant compounds. I ran biological tests as well — no danger to speak of."
Then Alhaitham casually presented the effects of the Life Potion, framing them as the findings of his biological experiments.
"If you intend to drink it — with a gunshot wound like the one on your arm, I'd suggest half a bottle. That should just about do it."
Vodka glanced at Gin, the question written all over his face. "Well, Aniki? Want to give it a try?"
Gin said nothing. He took the Life Potion and drank down half the bottle.
The moment he swallowed, a warmth streamed down his throat and pooled in his stomach. At first his body felt nothing, but gradually Gin became aware of a faint itching around the gunshot wound.
He simply tore off the bandage he'd had wrapped around his arm yesterday. The wound that had looked vicious enough when it was dressed was now visibly closing. Before long — no more than a day, at most — it would heal over completely. By tomorrow, all that would remain on his arm was a scar.
"Aniki, the wound really is healing faster!" Vodka blurted out in astonishment.
"Hmph. No wonder Rum wants to partner with that man. I was starting to think he'd lost his mind from old age. Turns out it's worth something after all."
Since the wound was recovering so well, Gin saw no reason to re-bandage it. He yanked the rest of the wrappings off his arm and tossed them aside.
Then he picked up the analysis report and walked straight out.
Vodka scrambled after him. Gin showed no sign of saying goodbye to Alhaitham, and Alhaitham, absorbed in his book, didn't appear to notice them leaving. Vodka, mindful of the man's combat prowess, agonized over it for a moment — but in the end, he offered a parting word before he went.
Meanwhile, at the hotel where Kaeya was staying.
Kaeya was resting in his room when the doorbell rang. This had to be the Black Organization's liaison, he figured, and went to answer the door.
The moment it opened, Kaeya couldn't help a flicker of surprise. The man standing there had blond hair and dark skin — a near-perfect match for Bourbon's anime counterpart. Surely the Organization hadn't sent Bourbon himself.
"Mr. Alberich, a pleasure. I'm the one the Organization sent to discuss our cooperation. My name is Amuro Toru — codename: Bourbon."
Amuro Toru introduced himself with an easy smile, all the while quietly sizing up the man before him.
The outfit was flamboyant and unmistakably European in style: a blue coat over a shirt unbuttoned nearly to the chest, a blue waistcoat, slim trousers tucked into knee-high boots. Chains dangled from his belt, strung with ice-blue beads, and a matching blue earring hung from his left ear.
He looks like trouble from a mile away. That was Amuro Toru's first impression of Kaeya.
Then there was the eyepatch over his right eye. An injured eye — what kind of danger does a man of nobility encounter to lose an eye?
"Hello. Just 'Kaeya' is fine." With that, Kaeya stepped aside and waved Bourbon in. "I expected Cointreau to come himself, honestly — he is the one in charge, after all. And I heard three people would be handling this cooperation on your end. Where's the third? Don't tell me it's just you."
"Today is only a preliminary talk. One of me is plenty. Cointreau will be present when we formally settle the terms. As for the other man..."
Truthfully, Bourbon had wondered whether he might leave Ireland behind and manage the pace of the negotiations on his own. But before he could make a move, Cointreau had informed him that he'd be going alone — and when pressed for a reason, had said Ireland had lost a family member and was in no state to work, so he'd been sent home to rest.
Since when did Organization members have families? And what was more, Cointreau had actually signed off on it. That was the part Amuro Toru couldn't wrap his head around. Since when was Cointreau so accommodating? If not for that little show of force at their first meeting, Bourbon might have believed it.
But the real reason obviously couldn't be spoken aloud, so Bourbon brushed the question aside with the excuse that the other man was occupied elsewhere.
Kaeya had only asked in passing, and he didn't press the transparent excuse.
Once they were seated, Bourbon opened the conversation. "Mr. Kaeya — I hear from Vermouth that you told her yesterday you aren't cooperating with the Organization in the name of the Ragnvindr family. May I ask, then — are you doing this as a private individual?"
"Does it matter?" Kaeya leaned back into the sofa, smiling as he tossed the question right back. "Your Organization provides the data I need, and I provide you with potions. A fair trade. What does my name on the paperwork have to do with any of it?"