Today, as is my routine, I found myself in the middle of breaking into a research facility for the Organization.
Aside from escorting executives, Bourbon's role within the Organization is purely offensive: smash and grab.
That is likely because it is the only thing I am actually good at.
I possess the body of Furuya Rei like a ghost. However, it feels more like manipulating a vessel from the outside, akin to a poltergeist. I do not control this body through the brain; instead, I function like a parasite. This allows me to bypass the brain's natural inhibitors and force the body to move at its absolute limit.
When this ability combines with his perfectly trained physique, the result is unparalleled superhuman performance.
...Well, since I am the one driving, I can only manage savage, barbaric movements that rely entirely on the body's instincts!
I crawled along the ceiling using mechanical claws attached to both hands, then dropped to the floor with the silence of a cat. Without making a single sound, I stood before a door secured by an electronic lock.
I swung my claw with full force.
The door tore open with a violent crash. I kicked the now-useless barrier aside.
Incidentally, I use claws because I rely so heavily on physical exertion; handling long-range melee weapons like swords or batons proved impossible for me. I am also hopeless with firearms. Weapons that act as extensions of the body, like armored gloves or knuckles, work best.
However, Gin, in a fit of twisted humor, decided my weapons should be claws.
"A fitting weapon for the likes of you," he had said.
Did he mean I needed claws because I'm a monster? Shut up, damn it.
Yet, while my body resembles a lithe predator, my inner self is fragile—a tiny, terrified cartoon character.
Waaaah... I'm so scared! Someone with a gun just came around the corner! What do I do? This is terrifying!
Whether caused by the death throes of the smashed lock or something else, blaring sirens suddenly echoed throughout the institute.
It seemed my stealth mission had been thoroughly compromised.
I heard bloodthirsty shouts in the distance: "Intruder!" and "Kill him!"
No matter. I had to steal the data now.
I inserted the small USB drive I had been given into the target computer. A small window popped up, and the data transfer began, but it was taking longer than anticipated.
By my estimate, the guards would arrive before the process was complete.
I crouched beside the door like a leopard lying in wait for prey and readied my claws.
Incidentally, these claws were developed by the Organization. Despite their compact size, they feature retractable grappling hooks. They are a sophisticated tool; if I use both hands skillfully, I can mimic the aerial maneuvers of the Survey Corps.
"It's this room!"
I heard shouting and the heavy tread of multiple footsteps. The guests had arrived.
Internally, I was terrified enough to jump out of my skin.
What is wrong with that guy? He's carrying a submachine gun and two pistols! Is this a war zone?!
The other one held only a handgun, yet he projected the aura of an MMA expert.
Just what I'd expect from people foolish enough to oppose the Black Organization.
Here goes nothing!
In that instant.
Furuya Rei's body lunged at the armed prey with utter, icy calm.
"Gah... W-what the... Gyaaah!!"
"W-who are you... Bugyaaah!?!?"
The villains collapsed amidst a spectacular spray of blood. I couldn't take it anymore and let out a tearful wail.
"Oh my Goooood!!! Blood, so much blood... It's a mission, I'm sorry, please forgive me!!!"
If the real Furuya Rei, currently sleeping deep within my heart, could see me now, he would surely faint from the sheer disgrace of my pathetic state.
I am truly just an ordinary human; no matter how many times I do this, I will never get used to it!
Since my opponents are villains, my conscience remains relatively clear, but the scene is disgusting and excessively bloody. Surrounded by this uncensored, rated-R gore, I couldn't even close my eyes. I kept swinging my claws, tears streaming down my face.
If I close my eyes now, I'll die! Just die for the sake of my survival, you villains!!!
In the meantime, the data copy completed successfully.
I pulled out the USB, stacked the bodies of the five men in black suits I had cut down, and clasped my hands in a brief prayer for them before leaving the room.
I smashed a nearby window and fired the anchor from my claw mechanism.
Once I reached the flat roof, I swung through the air, moving between the tree branches.
The area was swarming with gunmen, but my ape-like movements seemed to be outside their calculations.
I managed to escape the danger zone and arrived at the rendezvous point where Vermouth was waiting.
Vermouth wore a tight black dress that blended into the darkness. She turned toward me as I landed lightly on the asphalt.
"Oh. You were fast, Bourbon. Did you manage to retrieve the data properly?"
"Without any issues. Here you are, Vermouth."
When I handed her the USB, a deep, seductive, and beautiful smile spread across her face.
She gently patted my hair and stroked my chin.
"Good boy. A reward is in order for the child who is so good at playing fetch."
"T-this is embarrassing, Vermouth. There is no need for..."
"What reward do you desire?"
A close-up of that beautiful face is bad for my heart. Every time this happens, I feel as though Vermouth is treating me like a pet.
It would be a true horror if the real Furuya, the owner of this body, found out. For a man whose pride rivals Everest, being treated like a tame cat would be nothing short of a landmine ready to explode.
Despite my desire to refuse, my position as a "favorite" of an executive like Vermouth is too valuable to discard.
Thus, I find myself stuck in this indecisive state, unable to reject her completely.
"A reward..."
"Yes, Bourbon. The Organization's distinguished black dog."
"In that case, may I accompany you shopping again, Vermouth?"
"Shopping?"
Vermouth blinked in surprise, as if she had heard something completely unexpected.
On ordinary days, Vermouth often brings me along as a luggage carrier.
I get to see plenty of tasteful, beautiful clothing, and I imagine there are hordes of fools who would pay good money just to accompany Hollywood star Vermouth on her personal fashion show.
Well, for that reason, I don't hate being her baggage handler.
She also occasionally buys me stylish clothes that suit "Furuya-san" well for my personal use.
Most importantly, it is an activity completely void of the stench of blood.
"You really are a sweet boy, Bourbon. Very well, I have some free time the day after tomorrow. Shall we go?"
"Yes! Thank you very much, Vermouth!"
With that, today's mission concluded.
While "Furuya-san" continues to drift and sway deep within this body, still unawakened, I work tirelessly to solidify my position within the Organization.
All of this is to ensure that when he finally wakes, he can successfully complete his infiltration.
The night deepened.
The day of his awakening was still far off, and all I could do was stare up at the sky, shrouded in the darkness before dawn.
Yet, the reason I haven't given up is that I possess something called "petty pride."
It is a pride born of meddlesome goodwill—a desire to help someone who is trying their absolute best.