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“Maybe Ango really was lying, but he’s an informant who deals with top-secret information on the Mafia. It’s only natural he’d have a secret meeting or two. You can’t blame him for that.”

“Then he could’ve just told us he couldn’t talk about it. If he did that, neither of us would have even brought up his work, don’t you think?”

“…”

He was right.

“But Ango lied about the deal. He even went out of his way to show us the antique watch so he could have an alibi. Why would he go that far to hide it from us that he’d met with someone in secret?”

—Maybe because he predicted that things would turn out like this?

That was what Dazai’s cold, distant gaze was saying.

—What time did the deal end?

I suddenly remembered Dazai’s seemingly random question when he saw the paper wrapping. Now that I thought about it, he was able to deduce all of this with one mere glance. He’d even asked Ango that question just to make sure.

—Ango. Mimic. Surprise attack.

Something mysterious was slowly coming to light.

“Be careful, Odasaku. Your cup is close to overflowing,” Dazai said. “If just one more thing gets thrown in there, all the water will come spilling out the top, and you won’t be able to handle the situation alone. Anyway, we’ll take care of things here. You deal with Ango.”

“Thanks.”

After exchanging glances, I began to walk down the alley toward the back streets. That’s when I noticed…

…one of the attackers was getting back up.

“Dazai!”

The attacker drew his gun practically the moment I cried out. “Don’t move,” he threatened in a muffled voice.

The enemy was too close to Dazai for either m

e or one of Dazai’s subordinates to shoot. Furthermore, he had his weapon pointing at Dazai. His right hand gripped the gun while his left arm hung by his side as if he couldn’t move it. With apparently no strength left to stand on his own, the enemy leaned half of his weight against the wall.

Even then, Dazai was still within his range of fire. We couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.

“Oh my.” Dazai stared at the pistol as if it were something unique and interesting. “You can still stand after so many bullets? Your mental fortitude is extraordinary.”

One of the attackers was completely unconscious, while the other was using his last bit of strength to stand so he could take Dazai with him to the grave.

“Dazai, keep still. I’ve got this.”

I stretched my fingers out to grab my gun. If the enemy got even a second to act, he was going to shoot. Since he was already aiming his old-fashioned pistol right at Dazai, even if I shot him right through the heart, the impact might cause him to pull the trigger. Timing was everything. I’m not a betting guy, but I didn’t have any other choice.

“Your organization’s called Mimic, right?” Dazai asked the man, but he didn’t reply. He didn’t even blink. “I’m not expecting an answer. To tell the truth, I admire you guys. No other organization has tried to take the Mafia head-on like this before. And nobody has ever successfully managed to point their gun at me like this with the intent to kill, either.”

Dazai faced the attacker, then began to walk toward him as if he were taking a stroll through his garden.

“Dazai, stop,” I begged in a hushed tone.

“I hope you can see the excitement in my eyes, too.” Dazai continued to address the enemy who was holding him at gunpoint. “If you just squeeze your finger ever so slightly, you can give me precisely what I crave most. The only thing I’m afraid of is that you’ll miss.”

His lips curled as he approached the man. The muzzle was now fewer than ten feet away.

“You need to aim for the heart or the head. I recommend the head. You only get one chance, though. My colleagues here won’t be kind enough to give you another.” Dazai tapped the middle of his forehead right over his eyebrows a few times. “But I know you can do it. You’re a sniper, aren’t you? I can still see the imprint from the sniper rifle on your cheek. You’re not the spotter.”

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