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"How did you do that?" Ethan asked.
He didn't even spare Jim a glance on the floor. Morin's actions had already smashed his understanding of what was normal.
"As you saw," Morin said, casually spinning the wrench in his hand, "I predicted the bullet's trajectory and swung accordingly."
Then he added, "Want to see a magic trick?"
"Huh?" Ethan froze.
"Clang, clang."
Morin suddenly clapped his hands together. When he opened them again, the wrench was gone.
"Alright," he said calmly. "Magic trick's over. So... where's the thing I need?"
Morin had no intention of explaining anything to Ethan.
Was he supposed to say his physical body was fundamentally different from a normal human's?
That could wait.
Right now, ten million dollars mattered more.
"What thing are you looking for?" Claire finally found an opening.
"Money, Agent Claire," Morin replied, shrugging. "Did you forget what I said earlier?"
"I'm IRS. I'm here for money. What else would I be here for?"
Claire instinctively looked at Ethan.
Something was off.
When did Ethan contact this IRS agent?
When did they make a deal?
Why did she know nothing about it?
For the first time, Claire realized the situation was far more complicated than she had assumed.
"It's here," Ethan said, ignoring her.
He bent down, pulled an envelope from Jim's chest bag, and handed it to Morin.
"Ten million US dollars. US Treasury cash coupons. Including interest. Can be redeemed at any time."
"Excellent."
Morin opened the envelope, checked the contents, nodded, and slid it into his coat.
In reality, it went straight into his storage space.
"It seems our cooperation has concluded successfully."
He looked at Ethan.
"Your parents are currently vacationing in Hawaii. I gave them enough money and assigned full-time protection. You don't need to worry."
"As for your innocence," Morin smiled lightly, "the IRS will soon have a friendly exchange with the CIA."
"This operation is the opening act. An IRS agent and a CIA agent working together to capture a CIA traitor."
"Everything ends cleanly."
"How does that sound?"
"Sounds good," Ethan replied.
His gaze dropped to Jim's unconscious body.
"But honestly," he added, "I don't really want to go back."
"This isn't about what you want," Morin said, patting his shoulder.
"Once they realize what you're capable of, your superiors won't let you go."
"Running solves nothing. You can only learn to face it."
He paused.
"For example... you're about to face a problem right now."
Morin lowered his voice slightly.
"It's up to you to decide what role Agent Claire played in this operation, Ethan."
With that, he turned and walked out of the baggage compartment, closing the door behind him.
He still had something else to handle.
Morin walked toward Max.
In truth, even without Luther intercepting the signal, Max never had a chance.
Inside the backpack Morin had left at his seat was a signal jammer. He had activated it the moment he went to the baggage compartment.
The latest IRS model.
Twenty-meter radius.
Total signal blackout.
Unless Max's people planned to run around the train waving the computer in the air, transmission was impossible. They currently believed the equipment was malfunctioning.
With Morin's intervention, Ethan never contacted the IMF.
Eugene never arrived.
Which meant someone else had to arrest Max.
That someone was Morin.
The ten million was part of Morin's deal with Ethan, not Max. Arresting her wouldn't affect the conversion of money into experience points.
The plan had gone exactly as intended.
As for why the ten million hadn't yet been added to his experience-
Morin assumed the system was waiting for the entire transaction to fully conclude, including Ethan's parents being safely returned.
He wasn't concerned.
The money was already in his hands.
The experience wasn't going anywhere.
Morin returned to his seat, picked up his bag, and sat down across from Max, who was anxiously urging her subordinates.
He opened the bag and began rummaging through it.
"..."
Max glanced at him a few times.
Was this man sitting here earlier?
The train had been moving for a long time. He couldn't have just boarded.
"Ma'am," Morin said calmly, "why do you keep looking at me?"
"Although I am handsome, staring is rude."
He pulled out a black, speaker-like device and placed it on the table.
"...My apologies," Max said after a moment, forcing a polite smile.
"It's fine," Morin replied generously. "I'll forgive you if you buy this."
"...What?"
"You don't need it?" Morin asked. "It's very useful."
"...No," Max hesitated, then shook her head.
Given her status, being pitched a product like this was unfamiliar territory.
"Perhaps I should explain it first," Morin said evenly.
"Once you hear what it does, I believe you'll be willing to pay a high price."
"High price?" Max asked, faintly amused.
She could throw around ten million dollars without blinking. The phrase sounded almost funny.
Morin smiled.
"I mean ten million dollars."
The air froze.
The subordinate operating the computer subtly shifted his hand toward his waistband.
That number was far too precise.
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean," Max said carefully, clinging to a thin strand of hope.
"That's fine," Morin replied. "Let me introduce the product."
He patted the device lightly.
"This is a next-generation signal jammer developed by the IRS equipment department."
"It blocks all signals within twenty meters."
"Portable. Powerful. Ten hours of continuous operation."
"More than enough to get you to an IRS interrogation room."
He looked at Max.
"With those features..."
"Do you think it's worth ten million dollars?"