Of course, they were not just here to warn him to stay away from Shirley, but to catch him and spy on undercover agents.
"It's been so long, I guess the mouse can't wait any longer."
Gin put the gun back on his waist. When talking about work, he habitually sneered.
"Brother, you are fast and efficient." Kawakami flattered him sincerely.
It is indeed sincere. Team tasks are like group assignments. Some people try their best to do everything, and naturally there are also people who take advantage of the situation and get carried away.
When you partner with a workaholic who values efficiency, you either feel ashamed under the strong contrast and work harder, or... you just give up.
Kawakami Tsumugi solemnly stated that he was forced to lie down.
You must know that this mission can be regarded as a meritorious service for him, and it is too late to perform hard. It's just that he doesn't have any chance to perform yet.
It was easy to retrieve the USB flash drive from the dead mailbox revealed in the intelligence; activating the dead mailbox to bait the undercover was just a matter of typing a few lines of code.
Someone was arranged to monitor the undercover joint. He had just returned to the action team and had no subordinates to call upon. Ginjiu would not let him get involved with his subordinates, so he could only watch the surveillance video remotely.
There are a lot of trivial matters here at the institute, and his leaving the research group does not mean that he is indifferent - he still has three projects on hand, and reorganizing his old department in R07 to arrange the projects is also a lot of work. matter.
Moreover, he had to make a handover with Shirley, and during the handover, he had to include some private information without raising suspicion.
It was difficult to take care of both the dual-track system, so Kawakami didn't bother much about Gin's task progress.
"Is it about to enter the formal closing stage?"
"Vodka will explain it to you." Gin held the cigarette in his mouth, "How is your sniping skill?"
"Seven hundred yards, data from a year ago."
"Go to the training room and take a test."
"Is it too late?"
Gin couldn't help but sneer: "Are you just starting to worry about the progress now?"
To say "it's not too late to remedy the situation" may be a bit poor. Kawakami chose silence empathetically.
The undercover's death mailbox is next to a rockery in a medium-sized park, not far or close to the R07 Research Institute. The terrain is relatively open. If you choose to snipe...
Kawakamiji modeled in his mind that there were several rooftops of nearby buildings that could be used, ranging from 600 to 800 yards. According to common sense, two snipers will appear if you watch a little action.
There are two possibilities for calling him to shift:
First, Gin wanted to see what he was capable of; second, Gin didn't have any extra snipers at the moment. Third, just watch him idle and try to improve his task participation. Combine again...
Hiss, why is he thinking so much?
Kawakami put his glasses back on, closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and fell into standby mode.
His brain will always combine and analyze existing clues involuntarily. In addition, he is a patient with hyperamnesia, which puts a heavy load on his thinking.
But he himself also figured out a way to deal with it. It's just that this way of coping looks like closing your eyes and concentrating, in other words, like being lazy.
--------------------------
Breathe in, breathe out.
The simulation screen was bustling with people, and the morning light illuminated the streets. The young woman who was marked as the target answered the phone and was trotting across the road——
"boom--"
The target falls to the ground, the display goes black, and a perfect score is given.
"600 yards, how about it, Gin?" Kawakami asked with a smile.
After not touching a sniper rifle for nearly a year, he still maintained a fairly good level. He was still a little proud of himself, but in Gin's eyes, he looked particularly unworthy and ignorant.
"The highest sniper record in this base is 800 yards. How dare you show off at your level?"
"800 yards, so powerful, which sharpshooter is he?"
"Oh, a new guy."
Kawakami just relied on his superb skills in observing words and emotions to see a bit of disgust and disdain in Gin's expression.
It seems interesting.
Gin is recognized as a model worker who is dedicated to the organization. Newcomers to an organization will only be judged on their personal abilities and loyalty to the organization.
An 800-yard sniper is a rare talent wherever he is placed. There is no problem with the former, but the problem can only be with the latter.
"Looks like a traitor?" Kawakami joked.
Gin's gun hit his head again: "Now that the action team is here, don't act like rats and those shady guys from the intelligence team."
Do you think I want to join the action team? Kawakami couldn't help but complain that when doing experiments in the research team, he could sit and read magazines and blow on the air conditioner; the intelligence team belonged to Rum and was his family, so his actions on the surface would not be restricted in any way.
No matter how bad it is, it’s okay to be in the same group as I was a year ago. He followed Gin everywhere in the wind and rain, never knowing when he would die, and from time to time he would be threatened with a gun to his head.
"I was rude."
Kawakami knows the rules of the workplace, especially the winery version of the workplace rules, which is that no matter how lawless he is in private, he must always be respectful and polite on the surface.
Whether the newcomer acted like an undercover agent or was just an undercover agent was something that Gin should worry about, not him.
But if there is an opportunity in the future, he will not give up obtaining information in this area.
The practice continues.
Starting from 600 yards, Kawakami continued to accumulate ten yards and ten yards. He hit the target squarely on the head every time, and he stopped after reaching 700 yards.
It is not easy to maintain the same posture for a long time. Sweat dripped onto his lenses, so Kawakami took them off and wiped them with his sleeves.
"Is this the limit?"
"That's right."
Gin didn't say whether he believed it or not. Kawakami turned off the display and put away the simulated sniper rifle.
"Is there a good sniper rifle within the organization? I need to get one."
Codename members have the right to apply for guns from the organization's arsenal at will. They need to report and register to receive, destroy or replace weapons. As long as they are not applying for weapons such as rocket launchers, no one will take care of them.
"You don't have one yourself?" Gin looked at him sideways.
Although weapons can be claimed from the organization at will, code members of the Operations Group and most of the Intelligence Group have their own private arsenal.
Of course, except for the weirdo Kawakami Tsumugi, after being transferred to the research team, except for keeping some necessary for self-defense, he handed over the rest for public and private use to the organization.
"Gin, don't forget that I was a helpless research team member a few days ago. How could there be such dangerous things?" Kawakami replied quietly.
The weapons he used couldn't be contained, and the way Gin looked at him had changed from looking at the waste that was holding him back to looking at the garbage that couldn't be recycled.
"Go to the weapons depot and apply yourself."
After taking the sniper rifle, Gin slipped him to the mission site.
"Kashasha, get in position." Kawakami turned on the headset.
"Chianti, get in position." Followed by a nervous-sounding female voice, "I can't wait to kill the mouse!"
"Shut up, Chianti." Gin sounded a little tired, "Except for special circumstances, mice must be captured alive."
Kawakami succeeded Cohen, a gray-haired, dull-faced man who said nothing during the handover. Chianti babbled that his gun had been thirsting for blood for a long time. She was a woman with short orange hair and a tattoo of a swallowtail butterfly on her left eye.
Kawakami Tsumugi had been guarding the dead mailbox for a day, and Gin's people had been keeping an eye on it for two days before he came.
This kind of pursuit of undercover agents always involves a lot of wasted efforts. According to the false news sent by Tsumugi Kawakami to the undercover agents, that person should appear in the next two days, but whether he will appear or not is still unknown...
But they were lucky.
"Gin, the suspected target appears." Kawakami Tsumugi whispered.
