Even though he knew those floors and buildings didn't belong to him, as long as he was standing up high, looking down, everyone looked like rabbits under a hawk's claws.

Waiting for him to hunt them.

He really enjoyed that feeling. Staring at the hotel's front door, he paid the cab fare of his own accord, then dragged Black Widow into the hotel.

If you wanted to be artsy about this hotel's lobby, you'd say it carried on the hotel's usual calm style—grand and minimalist.

In Vulture's words, it was behind the times.

Back when there weren't many luxury hotels, this kind of style could still be competitive.

But in recent years the world had been changing violently, and the number of luxury hotels kept increasing.

The lobby and basic facilities of The Ritz-Carlton, Tokyo no longer felt as pleasant as when it was first built.

He'd even gone for a walk around at night and couldn't feel at all like this was the kind of environment that should surround a luxury hotel.

It was like stepping into a red-light district.

Unlike what most people might think, Vulture, as an assassin, actually didn't like red-light districts.

He preferred places that were orderly and had beautiful surroundings.

That was why he occasionally liked to travel to certain cities in the Eastern Great Nation.

Compared to the global safe-city rankings put out by the British Think Tank, the Eastern Great Nation was obviously better.

It was just that the nature of his work meant he could only go there to enjoy himself, not to work.

Vulture took Black Widow into the elevator and rode all the way up to the fifty‑third floor.

He'd paid a hefty sum to book a club-level executive suite here.

After all, in his line of work, the motto was "drink while the wine's still here."

If you didn't spend the money you earned in time, you might die on the next job you took.

If a man dies and the money's still there, that's nothing to be happy about.

Vulture walked through the wide corridor into his executive suite and swept his gaze over the living room.

He didn't let his guard down, carefully checked every room, and searched for any bombs.

Once that was settled, Vulture dialed the broker's number.

"Yo."

"Saburo, right? Did you catch your rabbit?"

"No, he got away. I'll need to find another chance to grab him."

"That's a pity. I'll see when I've got time to help you catch him."

"Mm."

After a simple exchange of code phrases, he hung up.

Black Widow opened a bottle from the liquor cabinet, took out two glasses, set them down, and filled his to the brim. "We do something like this and fail—do you think they'll kill us to tie up loose ends?"

"That depends on whether there's still frost on the boulevard I walk."

Vulture stared at Black Widow's chest, a smile appearing on his face.

But he didn't dare drink.

They had worked together for quite a long time.

But that length of time had been just enough for him to understand how cold his other partner really was.

Black Widow would absolutely be willing, for money, to kill a partner like him and accept the employer's commission with tears in her eyes.

"You really are cautious. It's cold out; frost doesn't melt that easily."

Black Widow shook her head, raised her glass, and took a slow sip.

The mood on the surface looked cozy, but in reality it was filled with a tense, ready‑to‑draw‑blades atmosphere.

She couldn't guarantee Vulture wouldn't suddenly turn on her either.

That was just how this line of work was.

There was risk if the job succeeded, and even more risk if it failed.

You had to be wary not only of the partner at your side, but also of the broker, and in the end even the employer had to be handled carefully.

Being an assassin wasn't easy.

...

The four morning classes passed.

Bright sunlight spilled over the outside of the club building.

Aozawa walked up to the Guzheng Club window. Before he could say anything, a bento was immediately handed out.

Natsuka Yanagimachi, standing at the window, shooed him off like a Puppy coming by for food. "Aozawa-senpai, quick, quick, don't just stand there like an idiot. Take your bento and get lost.

Next up is our heart‑to‑heart between girls."

To express that she was kicking him out, her willowy brows stood on end and her eyes went round, but there wasn't any real authority to it.

It only made people want to poke her puffed‑up cheeks.

Aozawa glanced at Hojo Shouko, who sat there unmoving, and understood that at a time like this, she was at least eighty percent likely to have sunk into a shy mode.

He didn't linger. Taking the bento, he said, "Shouko, see you after school."

"Mm."

A faint reply drifted over.

Hojo Shouko was kneeling there, the flush on her cheeks not yet faded.

Aozawa walked away from the window.

Natsuka Yanagimachi turned around and said carelessly, "You don't have to be nervous; it's just us now. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Heh heh, let me see how your gear is?"

There was a hint of lewdness in her smile.

Hojo Shouko couldn't help giving her a look and asked doubtfully, "Summer Flower, you're not planning to make fun of me, are you?"

Natsuka Yanagimachi hurriedly pulled down the corners of her upturned lips, putting on a solemn face. "How could I? Don't overthink it. I'll draw the curtains."

As soon as she said it, she quickly turned around and pulled the curtains shut to block outside prying eyes, then walked to the door, locked it, and came back.

Natsuka Yanagimachi knelt properly with both hands on her knees, posture very correct. "All right, Corporal Shouko, let me see how you're prepared."

Hojo Shouko was more or less used to Natsuka Yanagimachi's love of clowning around, and could only open her schoolbag with a red face.

It was filled with knowledge, but not that kind of knowledge.

A box appeared inside the bag.

Hojo Shouko took it out and opened it. Inside was a neatly folded set of clothes.

Top and bottom both.

Out of trust in Natsuka Yanagimachi, she had specially bought a set of sharkskin clothing.

Next to it were a leather whip, candles, and rope for bondage, plus a big bottle of oil.

And a box of ultra‑thin Okamoto condoms.

Natsuka Yanagimachi put on an air of inspecting everything and nodded. "Very good. With this gear, I'm sure Aozawa-senpai will be slaughtered by you on the Flower Road."

The flush on Hojo Shouko's face gradually spread all the way to her ears. In a mosquito‑like voice she asked, "Summer Flower, then how do you say I should use them?"

"You're asking the right person."

Natsuka Yanagimachi straightened up. Her theory was very solid. She crooked a finger. "Lean in. Your master will teach you a few moves."

Hojo Shouko obediently leaned forward.

Natsuka Yanagimachi immediately started whispering in her ear about when to wear the sharkskin outfit, when to use the oil, the whipping, and so on.

All this knowledge was poured into Hojo Shouko's head, and she memorized it deeply, planning to put it to live use on Aozawa-senpai at the hotel after school.

...

A little after three in the afternoon, the sun was bright.

Emily wasn't staying in the hospital anymore, but at the Shinjuku Police Station.

Over a hundred armed police officers were there protecting her safety.

On top of that, the higher‑ups had specially deployed an elite squad from the Marine Corps.

Some people were set up on high points with sniper rifles, others were patrolling the corridor outside the doors.

Their assault rifles were all loaded with Armor Piercing Bullets.

Emily leaned against the headboard, watching a movie commentary playing on the laptop in front of her.

The Noble Phantasm lay beside her.

Katerina's ears twitched when she heard footsteps outside. She immediately looked up, the muscles under her bulletproof vest tensing, ready for any possible accident.

"It's me."

A sultry voice came from outside, and then the door opened.

The dashing Morimoto Chiyoda stood there. The short skirt she'd worn before had been swapped for pants that were easier to move in, and Frost Sorrow hung at her side.

On top she wore a loose T‑shirt.

Stretched over her ample chest was a ferocious big eye with a grinning face, completely lacking the gentleness it ought to have had.

"Emily, we've found where the assassins who tried to kill you are staying. It's in The Ritz-Carlton, Tokyo. Do you want to go?"

"Of course!"

Emily shouted back.

She wasn't particularly afraid of any danger. With Morimoto Chiyoda there to protect her, it would be quite a challenge for the enemy to pose any real threat to her.

Katerina frowned slightly. "Emily, it'd still be better if we didn't take any risks."

"You don't have to worry. I absolutely have to interrogate those two assassins myself—what gave them the guts to try and kill me?

And who's really behind them?"

Emily wasn't stupid. After a brief bout of anger, a bit of calm reflection had also made her feel that something was off.

No matter what Institute No. 47 was like, it shouldn't have been so desperate to kill her when she hadn't even found any leads yet.

Besides, it was really suffocating staying here.

Emily wanted to go out for a walk.