Daisuke Jigen's Melancholy Bet: Seven Days Chasing Fujiko Mine - A shot at dawn, and the first words.

The coldness of the knife had reached deep into his gut. Wolf's strike gouged into Daisuke Jigen's flank, slamming his body against a container by the wall. His spine groaned, every last bit of air forced from his lungs. His right hand still gripped the S&W M19, hammer still cocked. But the strength to pull the trigger was fading from his fingertips. His Borsalino hat fell to the floor. He had never felt so distant from the sight of his own hat hitting the ground. "...Not bad moves, gunslinger." Wolf's voice made the heavy air of the underground warehouse tremble. The large man adjusted his reverse grip on the blood-soaked combat knife, closing the distance step by step. The white scar bisecting his left eye reflected the orange emergency lights with an eerie glow. Jigen, on his knees, couldn't move. His right shoulder had reached its limit. The old wound, shot through the night before in the Revenzahn attack, had fully reopened. He couldn't lift his arm. The price of neutralizing eight guards to save Fujiko now weighed down his entire body like lead. "That S&W. How many rounds left?" Wolf spoke, looking down at Jigen. "Let me count for you. You fired five shots earlier. One left. And your right arm's done. This is over." (...I know.) Jigen clenched his teeth. His mouth filled with the taste of blood. The blood flowing from his flank was beginning to form a dark pool on the floor. The edges of his vision were slowly, steadily fading to white. (One shot left.) (Where do I aim?) Wolf was uninjured. The knife's range was entirely his. Even if Jigen drew the S&W at this distance, his throat would be cut before he could fire. "Rest easy. I won't kill the woman." Wolf slowly crouched down. He lowered his body until he was at Jigen's eye level. Those cold eyes were right in front of him. "Mine Fujiko will be handed over to the organization. Don Graus himself wants her. That woman is merchandise. Too precious to break." (Merchandise.) That word sent sparks scattering through the back of his mind. Jigen's left hand clawed at the floor. His nails cracked, blood seeping out. He felt no pain. Something else entirely was about to burst inside his chest. "You just..." His voice was so low he barely recognized it as his own. "What did you call Fujiko?" Wolf's mouth twisted. "Merchandise. It's the truth, isn't it? When she was young, she was sold by the man she looked up to as her mentor. Since then, she's survived by moving from man to man. She should be used to being treated as an object by now." (Sold...?) Jigen's left hand trembled. Fujiko's face surfaced in his mind. Lustrous black hair reaching her waist. Large brown eyes. That calculating, shrewd, bewitching smile that toyed with men. But also, the tears she'd shown for the first time in that holding cell. *"Why did you come... You should have just abandoned me!"* She had been alone, all this time—. Wolf raised his knife. "It's over." That was when it happened. A single, dry gunshot rang out from outside the warehouse. Wolf's right arm burst apart above the elbow. The scoped round shattered bone, gouged flesh, and sent blood and chunks of meat splattering against the concrete wall. The combat knife clattered to the floor. "Guaaaaaahhh!!" Wolf screamed. Jigen's head snapped up as if jolted by electricity. His gaze went beyond the broken window. Outside the warehouse, in the dim light before dawn—. 800 meters away. The abandoned warehouse at the very edge of the port district. On its rooftop, a small figure was visible. Bandages wrapped around her stomach fluttered in the wind. Her dull blonde hair shone silver in the morning light. Riri. She was cradling a bolt-action rifle, still working the bolt. The burn scar on her temple twisted with every pull of the trigger. A sixteen-year-old girl, bleeding from the abdomen, had taken out a target 800 meters away with a single shot. (...Riri.) Jigen didn't move. His body couldn't move. But deep in his chest—. It was hot. *"I... I believe in you, Jigen-san."* The words she'd said, near death, in that abandoned warehouse. *"For the first time... I decided for myself. That I want to believe in this person."* Back then, he hadn't been able to give her any answer. But—. Now, she had believed in him and pulled the trigger. She had chosen his life over her own. (I thought she was a kid I needed to protect.) (Ridiculous.) (This girl is my—) Jigen clenched his teeth and stood up. His right shoulder screamed. The wound in his side tore open, blood gushing out. But none of that mattered anymore. Wolf, pressing his left arm against his wound, glared at Jigen. "I will absolutely... kill you..." Jigen aimed the muzzle of the S&W M19 at Wolf. The last remaining round. "Sorry, but." He pulled the trigger. The dry gunshot thundered through the underground warehouse. The .357 Magnum round precisely blew through Wolf's left knee. The patella shattered, and the large former soldier crumpled to the floor. "That kid is my partner." Footsteps faded away. Wolf, still crawling on the floor, glared at Jigen's back from within a pool of blood. "You too... don't have long, Daisuke Jigen..." Jigen didn't look back. He walked toward the exit. His steps were staggering. But his back was straight. He reached for the door leading out of the underground warehouse. He pushed. It didn't open. Jigen tilted his head. He pushed again. It didn't open. (...It's a pull door.) For a moment, a dumbfounded look crossed his face. He immediately glanced around, confirmed no one was watching, then pulled the door open and stepped outside as if nothing had happened. "...Tch." He clicked his tongue quietly, and put his hat back on. The harbor at dawn was filled with the scent of the sea breeze. The eastern sky was beginning to whiten, and the surface of the Mediterranean glittered silver. A cargo ship's horn sounded in the distance. Jigen leaned his back against the warehouse's outer wall and took a deep breath. The sea breeze stung his wounds. But it felt good. (I'm alive.) He took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He pressed the lighter. It lit. He slowly exhaled the purple smoke. The white smoke, translucent in the morning light, dissolved into the wind. Footsteps could be heard from afar. Riri was walking over from the direction of the abandoned warehouse. She was carrying a large rifle case, dragging her feet unsteadily. The bandages around her abdomen were dyed bright red. Even so, her large blue eyes were fixed straight on Jigen. Riri stood before Jigen. Without a word, she placed the case on the ground. And then—. She held out her right hand. Jigen stared at that hand. Slender fingers. A sniper's hands, yet now they were trembling. The burn scar on her left temple, illuminated by the morning sun, looked slightly red. She said nothing. She just kept her hand extended, gazing steadily into Jigen's eyes. Jigen switched his cigarette to his left hand. Then, slowly, he placed his own right hand—over Riri's. It wasn't a handshake. Just a simple gesture of gently laying his palm over hers. But it was, unmistakably, the first thing exchanged between them—proof of partnership. Riri pulled her hand away immediately. She averted her gaze, silently turning her face aside. But the slight redness on her cheeks—wasn't just because of the morning light. Jigen looked at his own right hand. (Riri...) A gentle warmth spread deep in his chest. This girl was no longer just someone to protect. She was a partner he entrusted his life to. (I see.) (To me, she's—) "...Thank you." The words slipped out before he knew it. Riri turned around, surprised. "...Huh?" Jigen immediately put his cigarette back in his mouth and pulled his hat down low. "It's nothing." Riri was still looking at Jigen with a surprised expression. But after a moment, the corners of her mouth relaxed, just a little. (When you smile, it makes me feel a bit relieved.) (...Or something like that.) Jigen exhaled cigarette smoke. Fujiko returned from the north exit. Her large brown eyes had lost their usual calculating gleam. But she wasn't crying. Just a quiet resolve, and the fatigue of having accomplished something, showed on her face. In her right hand, she clutched a small data chip. "...I found it, Jigen." Fujiko held out the chip. "This was embedded in the base of the Moon Shadow Tear. A complete record—Verde Noir's human trafficking transaction list from the past twenty years." Jigen accepted it without a word. He noticed that Fujiko's fingers were trembling. "...My name is on the very first page of the list." Fujiko gazed at the sea, as if looking into the distance. "When I was young, there was a man I thought of as my mentor. He taught me thieving techniques, how to break codes, how to survive in the underworld—everything. ...But that man tried to sell me to the organization. As an option in the Moon Shadow Tear deal." Her voice was hoarse. "I ran away. Since then, I've been alone all this time—living without trusting anyone. But, you know, when I found this list, I thought: with this, I can finally end it." Jigen crushed out his cigarette. Without a word, he stood beside Fujiko. Close enough that their shoulders touched. Feeling his warmth, Fujiko connected the satellite communication terminal to the chip. The screen displayed the database address of an international agency. Her finger trembled. She let out a small breath. She pressed the Enter key. The sound of transmission complete quietly chimed. The tension drained from Fujiko's shoulders. For a while, she just stood there, gazing at the sea. "...It's finally over." Jigen still said nothing. But he thought. (The reason Fujiko chose me.) (Not Lupin. Me.) (It wasn't calculation after all.) (This woman—she seriously considered whether she could forgive being betrayed.) (And she chose me.) His chest grew hot again. But this time, it wasn't pain. Just warmth. Fujiko stood in front of Jigen. Her waist-length black hair swayed in the sea breeze. Those large brown eyes looked straight at Jigen. Not her usual calculating smile. Not the sweet voice she used to bewitch men. Just her bare, unadorned face. "Hey, Jigen." Her voice trembled slightly. "I've done a lot of terrible things to you up until now, haven't I? I lied, put you in danger. ...You said it was because you're the biggest fool." Her fingers tightly gripped the hem of her clothes. "The truth is..." A breath. "...Thank you, Jigen. And, I'm sorry." It was her first "thank you." Her first "I'm sorry." Jigen, saying nothing, looked straight at Fujiko's face. Unable to bear his gaze, she turned her face away. She tried to laugh, but couldn't. Jigen took a cigarette from his chest pocket and put it in his mouth. He pressed the lighter. This time, it lit on the first try. Purple smoke rose. "...You're the fool." Fujiko looked up, surprised. Along with the cigarette smoke, Jigen let out a small laugh. Footsteps could be heard from the direction of the pier. "Finally got honest, huh, partner!" His flashy yellow jacket fluttering in the wind, Lupin Sansei walked over lightly. When had he appeared? In his hand, he held three passports. "Jigen-chan, next up is South America. We're gonna snatch a smuggling cartel's treasure deep in the Amazon. For you, Fujiko-chan, and—" Lupin looked at Riri. "—and Riri-chan, that makes three! As expected of Jigen-chan, you work fast!" Riri accepted the passport with a blank expression. She opened it. "...Riri Rossi?" She looked at Jigen upon seeing the fake name. "No idea." Jigen took a drag of his cigarette. Fujiko opened her own passport. "...Fiore Bella? Beautiful flower? Lupin, you really have no creativity." "It's perfect for Fujiko-chan, isn't it!" Laughing heartily, Lupin opened the door o

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Episode 7

Name: Daisuke Jigen's Melancholy Bet: Seven Days Chasing Fujiko Mine
Author: Novelia

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