Chapter 1109: 1109 5

The day after Van Dam and his wife had a nice chat on the boat, Yoshiku learned at home that Anse had been killed.

The dog owner visited after a while. The dog owner also found out that Yasuse was dead and visited Shizuku.

Yasuse's death was learned on a network of informants. The shooting bodies were exposed to dignified and humane places, so any of them could be handled on apparent news. Or... the other person is the other person, there may be regulations in the press and it may not be news.

"Pens are stronger than swords or something, but is hiring a killer a laughing place?

Dog breeder in a sarcastic tone.

"Battlefield journalists have long been talking about hiring mercenaries to escort and guide you, but are you your own soldiers, or are you the work of those escorts? In any case, I couldn't imagine a boulder ending a colleague exploring themselves without asking questions. I wonder how much you don't want me to know."

Yoshiku talks in a voice that pushed his anger to death.

"You don't want them to know you're just keeping an escort with a gun on standby. And you didn't sneak out the body to expose it, seeing that you might have other people, are you going to warn me? I mean to us. Thinking about it, it must have been a pretty criminal, aggressive organization before I wanted to be known. Or maybe Anse saw him as a backstreet resident and didn't condone anything. Somehow there's a private oilfielder behind them, opposite the back street."

Seeking calm analysis of the dog breeder, the fury increasingly solicits a prolonged period of time. According to common sense in the back street, it was sniffing around, so there was no choice but to be killed, but it was unacceptable in the long run. I'm still dragging my sense of the surface around there.

"What do we do? Do you want to pull this off 'cause it looks bad?

"Dog breeders can always pull off. I'm not the touchdown who can stay back for doing this."

"Come on, I was gonna do it alone, and don't be mean to me. I'm sorry, Yasuse, but it's getting interesting. I cared for you like you're mentally weak."

I laughed for a long time at the dog breeder who made fun of me with an invincible grin.

Hepatic Cedar Willow Meal and Ugashi Law are both freelance journalists, with lots of opportunities to be exposed to the media, and hated.

Uchi has been about to be dried over Kate-related matters for a time, but recently her work has become a bummer again. These days there are more jobs that are treated as rare beast commentators on TV than jobs that write articles.

I honestly don't like the job of exposing myself to public, but I take the job because I think it's for my selling and advertising. It often caused fine trouble as well. Although not at the level of being dried again.

Meanwhile, the world-class hepatic cedar, with its many supporters, is encouraging their work from the next to the next, also with their help. Self expression greed also flourishes, selling himself vigorously and aggressively. I do things that others resent and hate, but I avoid colliding with my work counterparts. I can calculate that.

Ubelly and liver cedar were drinking in the box seat at the shot bar that day. Whooping Belly, who doesn't have many friends, held the most booze seats together in his life, was Hepatic Cedar.

"Shinjuku blockade disturbance three weeks ago, that was also a terrible press regulation. I don't know how ghosts end up on the Internet, but I don't know what's going on."

An old man who speaks abominably - Uchi. When I drink with liver cedar, I mostly only talk about the press.

"As far as the back streets are concerned, this country places too much regulation on the press. Press freedom always counts from the bottom, and I can snort."

"It's up to me to decide what press freedom is, even the Border Ilane Press Corps. It's actually the regulating side, keeping the freedom of the press up. Now it's their hands and feet, and they're in a moving position."

Hepatic cedar speaking sparingly laughing as if to dish the frustration of the womb. This one was a middle-aged man in barrel shape with a big belly. The straightforward uvula and the ever-cynical and chilling hepatic cedar have contrasting personalities in the same reporter.

"They pretend to be the press, they control the press"

Squeeze your fists in the belly.

"But there's also a delicious part for us. Used, used... the world is like that"

The liver cedar is stubborn, but the belly is not satisfied. I seriously believe that we should not be in this world, such as being able to use ourselves, which is absolute justice. I need to be in a position to just use it.

"Van Damme also used the press in the case of Junko Yukioka, even though he often criticizes the press on a daily basis."

Uchi says and whisks.

"That was no choice for a TV station that was annoyed by the press regulations on the back street, because it was convenient. That's what I did by consorting with Van Damme and letting him blow a bubble. Besides, Van Damme has criticized the media by mouth, but on his own route to each country, he also has connections with the media. No, you should say I made it. Maybe Kate Van Damme slapped me a year ago."

"I didn't know that far... boulders..."

Taught by hepatic cedar, the belly is impressed. Age is higher in the Utsumi, but his ability as a reporter made it clear which was higher, and the arrogant Utsumi admitted only about the Hepatic Cedar.

"Finally, I know you're about to drop a bomb."

That's what the liver cedar says, pour beer.

"He's got a big nose. There will be a press conference tomorrow. Look forward to that."

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Uchi turned his eyes for a moment and was surprised, but said confidently, grinning.

Private Oil Tanya Japan Branch.

Some of the people watching TV at the entrance included the figure of Haya Biton, one of the executives and captain of the operative unit, and Rafael Demon, branch chief, senior executive and even one of the Demon clan executive commissioners of the Japanese branch.

Biton, nominally, is supposed to be dead, but still looks dignified inside the Japanese branch. The position hasn't changed either. That's what Raphael tells me to delude me if I get stuck with someone else who looks a lot like me.

It's a bitton that I was shocked to see if such a dodgy death operation was okay, but I've been starting to think lately that perhaps even if I found out, I would have been able to follow him as well, and that I didn't have to have died in the first place.

The television showed Theodore Scion Demon, a person who, like Raphael, was the executive commissioner of the Demon clan and a senior executive of a private oilfield store.

A magnificent white man with a stern face, but his eyes are loose and cloudy. His face is neat, but his eyes are not good. Finally, the face is not nice. He's a man without a single affection, and like Raphael, he's creeped out in the clan as a man who doesn't know what he's thinking about iron skin.

"I'm just trying to keep my emotions out of my face as much as possible, but this guy... from what I've seen, he seems like the type of person who's building walls with others because he has very different thoughts and sensibilities from people"

Rafael said as he watched Theodore responding to an interview on the screen.

"He was originally an inconspicuous member of the Demon clan, and it was not a pattern that would make him one of the members of the Executive Committee. At a time when we were unable to give Angel Names, there was no promising vision."

"Angel name..."

Biton looks at me. Episodes related to angel names within the Demon clan are never a happy substitute.

All of the Demon clans draw the blood of Mikhail Demon, who can also be called the original ancestors.

Among these, those whose mother's genes were also regarded as excellent, or who were born artificially inseminated into eggs with frozen preserved Mikhail sperm outstanding genes, are given the name of an angel from birth and receive such a thorough education of brilliance that they can even be described as inhumane from an early age. Rumor has it that some children are going to become obsolete or commit suicide in that educational curriculum.

Exceptions include Mikhail's eldest son and his near-age overlife, who has an angel name.

"He was, however, added to one of the members of the Executive Committee, although he was granted the status of representative of the Border Iranese Press Corps. It was no longer an unnatural flourish, but it deserved credit because it put the media around the world in a position to be heard. I don't even know what he's doing coming to Japan, but thanks Kina for the stink. He has all the soldiers and killers. He also hires Adonis Adams, a killer that private oilfielders like to use. He was working in Japan recently, too."

"I know. I also heard that Adonis murdered a known photographer in a backstreet informant neighborhood called Harutaro Yasuse last night."

"Did you know that, too? I know you've been explored, but killing and dealing with it smells like kina at last."

Raphael's phone vibrates as Raphael and Biton are in conversation. The TV had turned into a commercial.

'Watch TV. Something terrible happened on the news.'

"Exactly what channel are we looking at now?

"It's 24ch."

Following my men's words and changing channels, the venue for the press conference was reflected.

It shows an adorable girl, supposedly of Southeast Asian descent, sitting in her seat with Mike in front of her. I think my age is in my early teens.

"This child..."

Raphael looked familiar to the girl.

"You know what?

"Two years ago, Kate Van Damme saved my life and talked about it."

"Oh... Um..."

Raphael answers the questioning bitton. Only what the case was about, I knew Biton too, but I didn't even remember the girl.

"Two years ago, the story of me being helped by Mr. Kate is a lie."

With a crying face, and tears, the girl - Chiyoko Akamura - confesses.

'It's all a fabrication. It was Kate's madness to give her fame. "

A father beside Chijing said, with a depressing face.

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