Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 812: So I am the clown in the end?

"Where is the liquor?" Ryan's first words after waking up were hoarse but full of unquestionable persistence.

Mojito told the truth: "He took your 'stand-in' to see the White Widow."

"Calm down." Ryan's eyes were sharp, easily seeing through Mojito's anxious disguise. His tone was like an unquestionable order, "Contact the apostles and warn them."

Mojito frowned.

Although he didn't like to think deeply, he was definitely not brainless: "I... can't contact them."

He flatly rejected Ryan's proposal, "For the safety of both parties."

Then he offered an alternative plan: "But I have an evacuation team, monitored by satellite, and a rendezvous point has been set."

"They'll know as soon as we move."

After saying that, he turned around and left.

"No, I'll stay." A look of satisfaction appeared on Ryan's face.

Mojito stopped abruptly.

Ryan nodded slightly, his voice low: "I haven't made up with Baijiu yet."

Mojito turned around abruptly, his face a mixture of confusion and intense impatience. His eyes seemed to be silently roaring: Is there anything else on your mind besides baijiu?!

He stepped in front of Ryan, leaned forward, his expression twisted with anger, and gritted his teeth: "Why do you have to make things so complicated?!"

Ryan leaned back slightly, meeting Mojito's almost murderous gaze, but his tone was unusually calm: "I don't understand what you mean."

Mojito's forehead was throbbing with veins, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. "The original deal was simple! I help you frame Baijiu, and you give me the plutonium core!"

He suddenly raised his voice, "You are wasting your time!!"

Ryan's lips curled up in an intriguing arc: "Without first experiencing disaster, there will be no peace. The greater the disaster, the longer the peace will last."

"When I wrote these words," Mojito interrupted coldly, as if reading out a cold legal text, "I wasn't referring to your peace, or the disaster of liquor!"

He corrected sharply, "The old world order must be dismantled! We have the tools to do it! But all you seem to care about is—"

He suddenly leaned forward, his momentum pressing down like a mountain, "Let Baijiu live with the sins he committed! This isn't anarchism at all, it's pure revenge!"

Ryan remained unmoved and looked at him calmly.

"That's right." Ryan admitted frankly, his tone frighteningly calm. "When I get what I want, the Apostle will naturally give you the plutonium core."

Mojito could no longer tolerate the paranoid in front of him. He turned around angrily and rushed towards the heavy iron gate. His heavy breathing echoed in the narrow passage, like a trapped beast.

He suddenly stopped in front of the door, turned around, and roared angrily: "Baijiu is your only friend! You are alive today because he didn't have the courage to kill you!"

He tilted his head, a sardonic look on his face. "Sloan's right, the liquor group is a Halloween farce! Just a few grown men wearing..."

The words stopped abruptly! The expression on Mojito's face froze instantly, as if frozen!

Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

Ryan calmly turned his head to the side - the back of his head was facing the cold disguise machine.

Ryan had a strange smile on his face: "What's wrong?"

Mojito rushed to Ryan like an enraged beast, grabbed the face with both hands, and tore it apart fiercely.

What was revealed was McAllen's face with a sneer!

McCarron curled his lips and said, "It's my duty, don't be offended."

A surge of rage rushed straight to the top of his head!

Mojito pulled out the dagger from his arms like lightning, and with a flash of cold light, it pierced McAllen's heart!

"Click!"

The sound of a cold metal trigger being pulled suddenly rang out behind him!

The man with the airplane head held a pistol, his eyes as sharp as an eagle, and aimed steadily at the back of Mojito: "I ruined your good day, didn't I?"

Mojito turned around and snatched the gun from the airplane head!

"Click! Click! Click!" He pulled the trigger repeatedly - the chamber was empty, with only the futile sound of the firing pin!

The plane head was not hurried, with a hint of mockery on the corner of his mouth: "Your previous disguise was indeed flawless."

He calmly pulled out another pistol from his pocket, the black muzzle pointed steadily at Mojito's heart, "I think this gun has bullets. Do you want to try it?"

McCarron stood up from his seat, stood beside Mojito, and signaled him with his eyes to leave the confinement room.

Mojito slowly raised his hands knowing the situation.

He was taken back to the conference room where he had previously passionately criticized baijiu - but this time, it was he himself who was sitting in the dock.

Aircraft Head and McAllen, armed with weapons, kept a safe distance behind him, their guns never leaving his vital points.

In front of him, Baijiu and Laohei had been waiting for a long time. The real Ryan stood between them, tilting his head and blinking his small eyes at Mojito, his eyes seemed to silently say: "Well? You can't beat them."

A victorious smile appeared on Baijiu's face.

Mojito nodded, and in his heart he felt an indescribable admiration for Baijiu - he never expected that he would be fooled so thoroughly.

The liquor group is so famous in the organization, and it really has its own strengths.

Under the gunpoint of Airplane Head and Macallan, Mojito was forced forward and came face to face with Baijiu.

Macallan cast a look at Baijiu, like a primary school student waiting for praise from his teacher: "How was my performance?"

Baijiu smiled amiably and gave unstinting affirmation: "I never doubted it."

Macallan was so happy to receive the praise from Baijiu that he almost jumped up, and he felt happier than if he had won the jackpot.

The guy with the airplane head laughed and said, "I'm beginning to understand why you like to play like this."

McCarron smiled sympathetically. "Congratulations, Mr. Minister."

"That guy is a natural." Lao Hei also agreed with a smile.

"Welcome to join us, sir." Baijiu showed a long-lost, playful smile, as if welcoming a new member. "If you want to play, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future."

Mojito looked at them seriously and said in a low voice: "You made a wrong move."

"No." Baijiu corrected immediately, his eyes sharp, "I made the mistake. I shouldn't have saved you in Paris."

Mojito forced himself to remain calm, trying to maintain his confidence: "This doesn't prove anything. I was just acting. Just like you, I want to get the plutonium core back." He was still quibbling, trying to get away with it with superficial calmness.

"But," the minister pointed out the key doubt sharply, "this doesn't explain why you gave Sloan that file and tried to frame Baijiu."

"What he said makes sense." Baijiu nodded in agreement.

Mojito remained calm and composed. "Lake, he's delusional and insane, just as the file says."

The minister delivered another fatal blow: "Then where did Sloan get that file?"

Mojito asked back, "How should I know?"

"I know." A cold female voice sounded. It was Mojito's boss, Sloan.

Hearing her voice, Mojito was like being struck by lightning. He froze in place instantly, completely stunned.

The man raised his phone: "You heard everything, Erica."

On the other side of the screen, Erica was sitting elegantly in the office, like an audience enjoying a good show.

She spoke slowly, a hint of chill in her velvety voice: "I heard it."

She paused, her tone suddenly turning cold: "I don't like the feeling of being used, Mojito."

"Oh, you're so naughty." Lao Hei was scratching him with a gloating look on his face.

Mojito was so angry that he had no place to vent his anger. He could only grit his teeth and endure it all silently.

"Where do you want to send him?" asked the minister.

"I'll come find you." Erica pursed her lips, her eyes cold.

As soon as the words fell, the entire tunnel instantly fell into a dead silence and darkness.