Chapter 92: Kidnapping Klee
Though a knot of genuine anxiety tightened in his chest for the bright-eyed little girl he had only met once, Bourbon kept his expression perfectly smooth. Not a single muscle twitched to betray the righteous instincts of an undercover public security officer.
The moment Kaeya lowered his phone, Bourbon leaned forward. He adopted the smooth, dangerous cadence of a loyal syndicate hound. "Did something happen to Klee? What is the situation? Do you require our assistance?" He let a cold, predatory smile touch his lips. "After all, Mr. Kaeya is a valued partner of our organization. Laying a hand on your people is a direct insult to us. I believe we should teach whoever dared to offend the organization a rather painful lesson."
Bourbon shifted his gaze toward Cointreau, waiting for her verdict. By framing the rescue mission as a matter of syndicate pride, he hoped Cointreau would not suspect his underlying desperation to save an innocent child. Whether the pragmatic executive would actually agree to waste time on a rescue, however, remained entirely uncertain.
Standing nearby, Irish gave a low grunt of agreement. His heavy features darkened. He already suspected that whoever snatched the child was deliberately testing the Black Organization's boundaries.
To Bourbon's immense relief, Cointreau did not dismiss the idea. Her gaze remained calm and calculating as she turned to the hulking enforcer. She instructed Irish to take their newly acquired box and return to base immediately. She and Bourbon would remain behind to handle the situation.
"I would gladly welcome the help," Kaeya replied, his signature charm slipping just enough to reveal a sliver of ice beneath. He certainly had no intention of turning down Bourbon's offer. In truth, he had already planned to use the Black Organization as a cleanup crew.
Now that Klee had vanished off the streets, time was of the essence. The sooner they tracked her down, the better. But if they arrived too late, he would absolutely need these underworld operatives to help him scrub the crime scene of ash and explosive residue.
The trio climbed into Kaeya's vehicle. As the engine roared to life and they sped toward the last known location, Kaeya provided a brief rundown of the timeline.
Klee had been temporarily entrusted to a close friend of his, an Astrologist who frequently set up a small fortune-telling stall on the sidewalk to earn extra funds. Klee usually spent her afternoons playing quietly near the booth.
Despite her energetic nature, Klee was exceptionally well-behaved when it mattered. She knew the rules. If she wanted to wander off, she would always ask for permission first. She would never simply vanish into thin air without a word.
According to his friend, a customer had sat down for a reading. Right before the session began, Klee was still happily occupied nearby. However, the divination tools and the angle of the stall temporarily blocked the Astrologist's line of sight. By the time the customer paid and walked away, the spot where the little girl in red had been sitting was completely empty.
At first, his friend assumed Klee had just chased a butterfly to the next street over. But after scouring the immediate block and finding nothing, panic set in. Adding to the dread, Klee was completely unresponsive to the private messages sent through their shared system interface. Realizing the severity of the situation, the Astrologist immediately called Kaeya. She begged him to mobilize his resources, warning him that they needed to find the child quickly, otherwise...
Well, otherwise, things would get incredibly messy. She also promised to begin casting her own hydromancy to track the girl's coordinates.
Astrology.
Bourbon's hands rested on his knees, his expression freezing into a mask of polite disbelief. Did Kaeya's friend seriously intend to use crystal balls and star charts to locate a missing kidnapping victim?
In Bourbon's strictly logical worldview, the only people who still bought into astrology were gullible high school girls looking for romance advice. Did this woman actually believe her own parlor tricks worked? Was Kaeya really not going to say anything to correct his delusional friend?
Toru Amuro had initially assumed that anyone associating with a man as sharp and capable as Kaeya would be equally competent. To discover that the girl's temporary guardian was a street-corner fortune teller lost in her own fantasy world was a bitter pill to swallow. He truly could not fathom how two people of such wildly different calibers even tolerated each other.
Regardless, he decided he could not rely on this so-called Astrologist. The burden of the rescue fell squarely on their shoulders. He only prayed they could track the kidnappers down before Klee suffered any physical harm.
Miles away, Mona paced frantically across the pavement, her boots clicking a rapid, anxious rhythm against the stone. Learning that Klee had been abducted sent a jolt of pure terror straight through her heart.
The terror, however, was not entirely for Klee.
Her mind flashed to the heavy leather backpack strapped to the little girl's shoulders. That bag was currently stuffed to the brim with Klee's signature creations.
Jumpy Dumpty.
Mona pressed her hands to her temples, her breath hitching. She prayed to the stars that Klee would not panic and start throwing her bombs in an enclosed space. No, wait. Kaeya and the Traveler had lectured the child extensively about collateral damage. Klee usually exercised restraint nowadays.
Mona quickly changed her prayer. She prayed that the foolish criminals who took Klee would not casually rummage through her backpack. If they triggered the wrong latch or jostled the volatile explosives inside... Klee possessed an unnatural, world-bending luck that would undoubtedly shield her from the blast. The kidnappers, on the other hand, would be scraped off the ceiling with a spatula.
Unfortunately for the criminal underworld, the kidnappers could not hear Mona's desperate pleas to the cosmos.
Inside a dingy, dimly lit residential apartment several blocks away, a woman hurried through the front door. Her left arm was wrapped tightly around Klee's waist, while her right hand pressed the unconscious girl's face flush against her chest to conceal her identity from any passing neighbors. A scruffy man shadowed her every step, using his broad shoulders to block the view from the street.
The moment the deadbolt clicked shut, the heavy tension in the room evaporated. Both of them let out long, shaky exhales.
The woman unceremoniously dumped the sleeping child onto the cheap linoleum floor. She collapsed onto a nearby dining chair, her chest heaving. The man quickly poured two glasses of tap water, sliding one across the table. She downed the liquid in a single, desperate gulp.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Mizuno Haruka kicked off her shoes and glared at her boyfriend. "Koji, are you absolutely certain this brat comes from money? Look at her clothes. She looks like she belongs in a cartoon, not a mansion. And what kind of rich family leaves their kid with a street-side fortune teller?"
Miyake Koji scowled, clearly insulted by his girlfriend's lack of faith. "I am positive, Haruka. When I was working that miserable bellhop shift at the luxury hotel, I saw this exact kid walking out of the top-floor presidential suite with her older brother. I even asked the concierge about them. That guy has been renting the penthouse for months straight. If dropping that kind of cash doesn't mean they are filthy rich, what does?"
A greedy, self-satisfied grin spread across Koji's face as he recalled his incredible stroke of luck. He had just been walking home from a failed job interview when he spotted the familiar little girl in red sitting on a stool, completely unguarded.
He had immediately called Haruka, instructing her to fetch a rag and a bottle of ether from their stash. After casing the street, he realized the fortune teller was completely absorbed in her cards and no one else was watching. It was the perfect setup.
He had sent Haruka over first to ask the little girl a mundane question, effectively lowering her guard. The moment the fortune teller looked away to deal with a paying customer, Koji had slipped up from behind, clamped the ether-soaked rag over the child's mouth, and dragged her into the alley.
They tossed her into the backseat of their stolen sedan and drove straight here.
This neighborhood was their home turf. They knew every blind spot, every broken streetlamp, and every alleyway that lacked surveillance cameras. As far as Koji was concerned, this was a flawless operation. The police would never find a single breadcrumb.
It had been a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment crime, but the timing, the location, and the execution had been nothing short of miraculous. Everything had fallen perfectly into place.
Now, all that remained was drafting the ransom note. They just needed to contact the rich older brother and demand their payday.
"Koji..." Haruka's eyes gleamed with a sudden, feverish intensity. "If her brother can afford a presidential suite for months on end, his pockets must be bottomless. We should ask for at least ten million yen, right?" She was already mentally spending the cash on designer bags and a new apartment.
"Ten million?" Koji scoffed, crossing his arms with a sneer of pure arrogance. "Don't be stupid. Thirty million won't even make him blink. With that kind of payout, we can quit our jobs forever. We can do whatever we want..."
Ten million was pocket change. Judging by the protective way the older brother had hovered around the child at the hotel, Koji knew the man would empty his bank accounts without a second thought to get her back safely.
While the two amateur kidnappers sat in their dingy kitchen, blissfully arguing over how many millions to extort, a sleek black vehicle pulled up to the curb miles away.
Kaeya stepped out onto the pavement, his single visible eye sweeping the area where Klee had vanished. Right behind him, Bourbon and Cointreau exited the car, their expressions cold, calculated, and ready for a hunt.
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