Gin and Vodka were in their car, but their conversation quickly turned sour. "Boss, the idiots in the Information Division said they can't analyze the energy of that barrier surrounding Shibuya with our current technology," said Vodka, wearing his signature sunglasses even in the dark.
Gin, leaning against his car, gave him a cold, piercing look. "Why can the defense forces in those tokusatsu shows with last-century technology analyze Ultraman's energy, but our organization can't? Go kill a few of those rats to wake them up."
Gin was furious. He was supposed to be on a simple business trip in Nishitama, but the boss's orders had changed mid-way, forcing him to deal with this bizarre incident.
Vodka's lips trembled slightly, and he nodded before turning back. He wanted to say, Our organization specializes in pharmaceuticals, arms, electronic information technology, and politics. Energy isn't our field. Besides, the tech trees of those Earth defense organizations in tokusatsu are ridiculously advanced; many of their technologies are theoretical but impractical in reality. But he knew Gin didn't want explanations, so he obediently followed the order. He believed his busy brother, who was constantly on missions, didn't have time to watch tokusatsu shows and had only casually glanced at them.
Bang! Bang! Bang! A series of gunshots rang out. The sound of keyboards stopped for a moment, then resumed with a frantic clatter, several times faster than before. Their efficiency was still zero, though, because "Ultraman energy" was impossible to sample.
This Ultraman had only appeared three times, and he had never left anything behind, which made the organization, which had done a lot of work for nothing, quite frustrated. This sealing barrier was the first time they had a sample, but the organization's technology was unable to break through.
Vodka pushed up his hat with the barrel of his gun and looked up. The sky was pitch black, with not a single star in sight.
He had heard that Rum, the organization's second-in-command, had formed a special task force to find monsters and Ultraman. He wondered if they had any success. All he knew was that it was a time of trouble, and it was better to keep a low profile. Ultraman didn't interfere in human affairs, but who knew if he might turn evil?
"Tsk, they're getting more and more insane." In a dark car, a woman in a leather jacket muttered to herself while monitoring the programmers' progress on her laptop. "It's not enough to control time and life and death; now they want to control the power of giant monsters and Ultraman. What do you think of the organization now, Bourbon?"
In the driver's seat, a brown-skinned young man with a gentle smile and cold, icy eyes smirked. "That's not for me to comment on, Vermouth," said the police spy, whose codename was Bourbon and real name was Rei Furuya. "Do you want me to say 'the organization's goals are getting too big'? Monsters and Ultraman aren't like time and life and death, just sitting there for you to study. They are living beings that can move, think, and fight back. I can only pray that Rum doesn't go too far, or our organization might be crushed under their feet."
"Tsk tsk tsk, Bourbon, I can't believe there are only a few sane people in this huge organization." Vermouth looked up at Bourbon with a fake smile. "It's a shame you were already removed from the special task force's list by Rum."
"Special task force?" Bourbon feigned confusion. "I did hear a rumor about a 'special task force to find Ultraman and monsters,' and that only a handful of code-named members could get in... But I never heard that I was on the list of planned members."
"No, you weren't," Vermouth said, putting a cigarette in her mouth and pulling out her lighter. "Like me, you were never on that list because of your 'mysterious methods'."
"Oh, really? I thought a mission to find giants would require secrecy."
"Rum demanded that the team's style be loyalty," Vermouth said, dropping a bombshell. "And loyalty to him, Rum."
"So the Boss vetoed the creation of this team?" Bourbon asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"No, the order to create this team was originally given by the Boss," Vermouth scoffed. "But after catching up on those tokusatsu shows, he gave up. He thinks that compared to that drug, the cost-effectiveness of finding the secrets to eternal youth and immortality from Ultraman and monsters is too low."
Bourbon gripped the steering wheel, his gaze out the window becoming more intense. He never expected the Boss to be able to remain so calm when faced with such a fatal temptation. No wonder he was the Boss and Rum was just the second-in-command.
"By the way, Vermouth, why were you sent to Japan?" Bourbon asked, glancing at the woman in the darkness. "Isn't your base of operations in America?"
"Oh? Are you trying to get information out of me, Bourbon, the elite of the Information Division?" Vermouth said playfully, exhaling a smoke ring. The glowing embers of her cigarette were exceptionally bright in the darkness.
"No, just an information exchange," Bourbon replied, his expression unchanged. "I have Gin's next mission plan here."
"You're very good at arousing a person's greed," Vermouth said, putting out her cigarette. "You must have heard about the 'dehumanization' incidents in Tokyo recently."
The smile on Bourbon's face disappeared. The reason for his six-hour-long eye bags was that very 'dehumanization' incident. The police force had been tracking the sudden incidents of 'dehumanization,' but so far, they hadn't found a single clue besides some unspoken guesses. He heard his boss had lost a lot of hair recently.
"You have information?" Bourbon's tone became a little more serious.
"Bourbon, we're a crime syndicate," Vermouth reminded him in an odd tone. "When did you get the idea that we have to wait for evidence before we act? Making a bold hypothesis and then verifying it is enough."
Bourbon operated his phone for a moment, and soon, a notification sound for a new email came from Vermouth's laptop.
"According to the Information Division's clues, the victims of 'dehumanization' are all more or less related to one person," Vermouth said, a slight curve at the corner of her eyes as she looked at the email. "You must have found that out, too."
"...Masayoshi Shido."