Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Distrust
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"The Director's dead?"
Crow's hands were cuffed. He'd slapped handcuffs on countless villains, but this was the first time he'd been subdued himself.
"No way. That's not the kind of guy who just dies like that."
He was thrown into an interrogation room and questioned. But up to that point, he still had clear evidence proving his innocence.
"We know he wasn't the type to go down easy. That's why we're thinking it was a sneak attack. A bullet punched right through the center of the back of his head, straight into his brain—instant death. No way that happens unless he let his guard down big time."
Sure enough, there were some suspicious points about Crow.
He had no alibi,
no one else on the inside was skilled enough in combat,
and it was a fact that he'd infiltrated the Association building.
"...You think I shot him?"
"It's the most likely scenario."
It was a reasonable guess, in a way. The Association had plenty of strong agents on standby, but no one else who could match the Director except Crow.
"If it was a sneak attack, then anyone could have killed him without a fair fight."
"But there aren't many who could slip into the Director's office without him noticing. You know that."
Sitting across from Crow was Agent J, someone he'd worked with face-to-face for quite a while.
Their relationship wasn't exactly friendly, but they'd been fighting for the same cause, so they could at least call each other colleagues.
"I'll admit I'm that good. But I had no reason or motive to kill the Director."
"We know that too. That's why we're being cautious. We want to believe you."
"Fine. No long talk—let's go with the scientific evidence. They've analyzed what killed the Director, right?"
"Of course."
But,
her attitude felt strangely off.
Like she was deliberately keeping her distance...
"It's the ammo the Association issued to you."
"What?"
A few photos filled the gap between them. They showed bullet fragments extracted from the Director's head.
Looking closely at the bloodied bullet's shape, it was definitely Association-made. Undeniable, solid proof that Crow couldn't refute.
But bullets each had unique rifling patterns, so Crow quickly pointed out the rifling marks on the bullet's exterior.
"...Compare it directly. If it came from my gun, those marks would match. Analyze it and check."
"We already did. Out of the two guns you had when you surrendered, it matched the one holstered on your left thigh exactly."
"What...?"
Something was wrong. It couldn't match.
He hadn't fired his gun at all today.
"Hold on. Which gun? Bring the photo...!"
Crow always carried two Glock 26 pistols.
They were Association-issued firearms, and they often got damaged in combat, so the Association resupplied them twice a month, keeping records of dates and quantities.
He had a few more Glock 26s stashed in his safe house and hideouts for emergencies, but of course, no one had stolen them to commit this crime.
Crow wasn't that stupid. He didn't store them out in the open for anyone to snatch.
"The Glock 26 you favor."
That meant,
the Association had swapped his guns.
They'd disarmed him on the way here, so someone must have intervened and switched them out.
The gun in the photo Agent J showed him looked unmistakably unfamiliar.
It definitely wasn't the one he'd grabbed for today's op.
"...No way. The serial numbers won't match. Check those too."
"Do you remember which gun you took? The serial number?"
"I don't have it memorized, but there should be records. When I left today, it was definitely sta—"
But as he thought that far, Crow's mouth snapped shut.
If he spilled everything here,
he might lose his chance to prove his innocence.
He didn't suspect Agent J,
but the documents she'd presented already reeked of tampering by Association traitors.
"...Hold on. Before that, call Justice and Lily. I'll talk to them."
"Sorry, you're under investigation right now. You're a prime suspect. Best to come clean, Crow."
Something was definitely off here.
This wasn't just some simple conspiracy or misdirection.
It felt like a trap set long ago...
If the Association wanted to bury him,
they could fabricate or destroy evidence as much as they wanted.
...And already, signs of evidence tampering were blatantly obvious on the table in front of Crow.
"Call Justice and Lily."
"...You don't seem to grasp your situation. If you keep this up, you're—"
That's why Crow didn't change his attitude.
He had the situation figured out.
"Call. Justice. And Lily."
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Dreaming of that day left an unexpectedly lingering aftertaste on my body and mind.
The memory of the single day that landed me here.
"...Hngh."
I try to cling to the fading end of that vivid dream, but pain floods my body like a torrent, washing away the languor.
All that's left for me in reality is the pain.
Pain I never get used to,
pain that's fresh every single day...
"Awake already?"
The moment I regain consciousness, Creep jumps onto my bed and starts messing around. Like an excited cat, she rubs her cheeks and chest against me, mumbling.
"I waited so patiently for you..."
How many hours was I out this time? How many times have I blacked out since coming here? At this rate, my body will hit its limit for sure.
"Only I can take care of you, right? Ta-da! Cold lunch rice is basically dog food, so today I made something special."
And yet,
the first thing to twitch as I come to is my sense of smell.
"Just a sec. Almost done."
A smell that's so familiar,
yet incredibly striking...
"In prison, this is real soul food. You haven't tried it, have you?"
The aroma of ramen simmering gently in lukewarm water.
I'd smelled it a few days ago, sure. But up close like this, that zesty scent wakes up every nerve in my body.
Gulp—
I swallow without thinking. No way I'd fall for such cheap temptation, but damn, it smells good.
"You know? Ramen's surprisingly well-balanced nutritionally."
Creep hums a tune, swirling undercooked noodles, red broth rippling with her movements.
How does something so simple grab attention like that? I can't even understand my own feelings.
"Last time you just fished out the noodles and slurped 'em like soup. Fine once or twice, but keep that up and I'll get jealous. Today I went all out for you!"
Yeah, it's fine.
This isn't pathetic. I'm in a position where I have to eat what Creep gives me. So if she shoves it in my mouth, no need to refuse.
"Ta-da! All done."
I can already imagine the salty, spicy broth. Saliva floods my mouth unbidden.
My body, demanding more energy to recover, screams at me to devour what's right in front of it.
"But first~"
Yet Creep cruelly doesn't hand it over—instead, she thrusts her cheek at me.
"Gimme a kiss. Pretty please?"
She puffs out her cheek,
grinning right in my face.
"Huh?"
If she'd just given it,
then,
I could've eaten it no problem.
"..."
I know she's doing this to crush my pride,
so once again, I go hungry.
Yeah, that's fine.
But why do I feel this resentment and disappointment bubbling up inside?
It's villain food—she gives, I take, and I resist to the end.
Yet a single cup of ramen turns my insides upside down.
"Ahahaha! Baby, you look like you're about to cry. Aww?"
And on top of that, Creep grabs her stomach laughing. Her laughter rings so sharply it hurts my ears.
"Guess I'll eat both then~"
But,
an even louder sound cuts through.
Bang!Bang!
"...Fuck. What the hell."
Creep drops her smile instantly, radiating cold fury like that's how she'd been all along.
I can't fathom how someone flips emotions like that.
"Ignore it, baby. Anyway, I'll eat both and tell you how they taste..."
Bang!Bang!Bang!
The ignored noise hits three times,
Bang!Bang!Bang!Bang!
and four—Creep grabs her blunt plastic chopsticks and heads to the door.
No warning.
She just opens it, ready to jam them into eye sockets.
"...Oh, Secretary."
But the moment she realizes it's Scardi's crew, she sets the chopsticks aside.
"What's up? Even the Boss is here? We're about to eat... Did the ramen smell leak out too much?"
She plays it off coolly with a joke,
but Rin, trailing Scardi, doesn't flinch and demands,
"Boss wants to talk about Crow. Eat lunch later—open up."
"Whoa, that's awkward. My baby's not in the mood to go out."
Their back-and-forth drags on a bit,
then silence thickens the air.
"...Hehe, just kidding~ Chat away~"
But,
somehow Creep backs down first.
Her face is sour,
but I know how huge it is for Creep to yield even once.
I don't know what ties Creep and Scardi have,
...but there's some unspoken rule between them.