Conan: About the fact that I have a black brother

Gin considers himself to be a veteran in the organization. Over the years, he has been running around and working diligently for the future of the organization. Even if he has made no contributions, he has worked hard.

Who knows,

Unfortunately, he suffered a setback in life and was ambushed and stranded on a deserted island. His communication equipment was almost completely destroyed, and he had no food. When he was about to start his survival on the deserted island, he was shocked to find that the organization's technology tree would always light up in an unknown place.

For example, during a mission, he accidentally obtained a computer that had been abandoned for fourteen years and belonged to a senior member of the organization.

Surprisingly, we can still keep in touch!

Moreover, a guy who had fallen out with him in the organization was able to contact him through this and offer help.

Faced with the other party's blatant attitude of "I'm going to trick you", Gin chose the latter between being trapped to death on the island and being tricked to death by the organization.

After all, the former really died, and the latter...

Gin stroked the last weapon on his body - a finely crafted dagger.

If that person acts rashly, I don't mind letting the trapped person fall to the ground.

A strong wind raged at night, and countless waves were smashed on the black rocks. The white foam broke, making a rustling sound.

There are no stars or moon tonight, and Gin has lost his last tool to determine his direction.

although,

It was the middle of the night, and even if he got the direction, he couldn't find a way back to Japan in the vast ocean.

Furthermore, although a guy in Tokyo swore and promised to rescue him, it would be very difficult to search for a person in unfamiliar waters even by plane.

Thinking about the difficult days ahead, Gin fiddled with the fire in front of him to raise the temperature and prevent hypothermia.

He had to try to stay alive until rescue came. He had already imagined how that guy would publicize his "great achievements" in the organization and recite a eulogy in a rhythmic voice if he unfortunately died on the island.

Just like if that guy died, Gin would tell Vodka to do it.

The flames drove away the unknown insects on the island, but fortunately there were no large predators on the island, and there were even three or four coconut trees.

As long as Gin is careful not to get bitten by poisonous snakes that appear from nowhere, he can probably survive safely for three or four days.

It's not a good feeling to put your life in the hands of someone else, especially when that person might want to kill you.

Gin narrowed his eyes, covered himself with the dried coat, and placed the antique laptop beside him - after all, it was the last means of communication, so he had to treasure it.

Moreover, Gin always had a premonition that the assassination attempt on him this time was most likely caused by this computer.

Protect it first and study it carefully when daybreak.

When he was organizing training camps in the past, he often slept in the wilderness. Gin is quite experienced in this, although he hasn't been so embarrassed in more than ten years.

However, quickly accepting and formulating a suitable plan is the most correct choice at the moment. The organization's number one killer can always afford to lose and let it go.

Gin thought about this and gradually fell into a light sleep.

When the first ray of sunlight slowly rose from the sea level, Gin was already awake.

Next to him was an opened coconut, the coconut juice and coconut meat inside had been eaten up.

The thick husks of coconuts were also laid out to dry in case there was a shortage of good fire starter material at night.

Brightness gradually came back to his senses and Gin picked up the slightly heavy computer.

He did not rush to open the display, but instead carefully examined its appearance.

Silver-gray, with old scratches and (should?) only Gin's fingerprints.

Gin frowned and ran his rough index finger across the side of the computer, feeling the subtle touch from his fingertips.

Something is wrong.

He turned the computer sideways and slowly changed the angle towards the sunlight.

Is it a symbol? Or just an accidental scratch?

Looking in this direction...

Is……

[L]

【L】?

Rather than the codenamed member starting with [L] who he had never met in the organization, Gin believed that this was a member of [H] who was formed due to excessive wear and tear.

Haha, it is true.

Being innocently implicated in the grievances of the previous generation and stranded on an isolated island would make anyone feel bad.

In particular, as perceptive as Gin was, he had already guessed who was planning to take action.

Where there are people, there are underworld forces, and organizations are not as monolithic as they appear.

With that gentleman's indifference or deliberate connivance, there were countless cases of intrigue and mutual oppression.

Fourteen years ago, there was a storm, but soon, the unfathomable sea of ​​the organization returned to peace. All traces of the past were lightly erased to maintain the surface of peace.

This computer, shining silver in the sun, may be the last trace left over from that time.

This was also the clue that Gin had been looking for for a long time, but he got it by chance and without any effort.

about--

The secret of Rum and the truth behind the death of the codenamed member starting with H.

If not for this, even though Rum had been unhappy with him for a long time, he would not have acted so easily and hastily.

There was a big problem with the computer, but since a certain guy contacted me, this old antique has been shut down again. No matter what Gin does, his cold face will only be reflected on the black screen.

Sure enough, professional things must be done by professionals.

Only hackers in the intelligence community have the patience to study computers carefully.

Gin thought so as he held the stone and considered whether to smash the computer.

Although this is unwise and stupid, Gin's inexplicable irritation in his heart must be vented.

There was a breeze blowing off the sea during the day, and the summer mornings were still cool.

Sunshine, waves, sand, and people sitting under coconut trees...

What should have been a peaceful and leisurely scene was ruined by the evil spirit surrounding Gin.

It was as if, in the distant woods, under the dark rocks, in the soil covered with dead branches, there was an unknown fear buried.

Gin watched the sun gradually rise and roughly determined the direction.

Then he stood up, broke off a few branches to make simple arrows, and calculated the possibility of catching fish.

In this way, he fished and ate coconuts during the day and sat by the fire and watched the moon at night.

After two days and two nights of survival in the wilderness.

On a sunny morning, he heard the sound of helicopter propellers cutting through the air.