Conan Rick's Investigator

Thinking that she was doomed, Vermouth gradually gave up and lay quietly on the sofa, allowing the mouse to continue gnawing at her knees.

ended……

I never thought I would die in such a dirty and dark place. What a ridiculous way to die.

Thinking in her heart, a self-deprecating smile appeared on the corner of Vermouth's mouth, and scenes from the past appeared in her mind like a kaleidoscope of life.

At 18, he made his stage debut in "The King in Yellow," won an Oscar, became a hitman, and assassinated powerful figures. He and Fujimine Yukiko became disciples of Kuroba Toichi, and took...

Vermouth recalled that most of her life had been spent wandering between gorgeous stages and bloody murder scenes, all for the grand ambitions of "that person".

She once told Yukiko as Sharon Wynyard that no angel had ever smiled at her in her life, and this was not empty talk.

At the same time, this statement also has another meaning: she did encounter an angel, but when she got closer, she found that it was not a real angel, but a fallen angel.

In Western mythology, Lucifer is a fallen angel who was banished from heaven for betraying God.

This is the boss of the organization, the mysterious "that man".

Vermouth thought about it and decided that since she was destined to die, she might as well continue sleeping and embrace death in a beautiful dream without fear.

If it weren't for this incident, death might have been a luxury for me.

As for the content of the dream...

Vermouth thought about it and realized that the most beautiful dream she had ever had in her life was after her encounter with "Angel" and "Cool guy".

As Vermouth recalled the trip to New York, a smile appeared on the corner of her mouth unconsciously.

Unlike Mao Lilan, that trip to New York is her best memory.

Theoretically, there doesn't need to be any reason for one person to help another...

Recalling the scene where Kudo Shinichi said these words to her righteously, Vermouth slowly closed her eyes.

But suddenly, she opened her eyes again.

I can't give up just like that, otherwise what will Angel and Cool guy do!

They don't know yet that danger is approaching!

Vermouth thought of the scene at the dock. Since Michael had been observing everything at Calvados's position, he could see that his target for execution this time was Shirley.

Angel and Cool guy are helping Shirley survive, so they will definitely be the organization's next targets.

How to do?

Thinking of this, Vermouth panicked.

I must find a way to remind them that even if they join the FBI's witness protection program, they must stay away from danger!

It might even be too late now. As a close confidant of the organization's boss, Michael is likely to do it himself.

Maybe it's on the way now!

Or lurking around the Maori office!

Even already...

Once she thought of this possibility, Vermouth's mind was filled with fear, and countless scenarios emerged, each one worse than the last.

Even when she knew she was doomed to die, she was not so scared.

Instead, she was extremely scared because the two people were in danger of their lives.

Vermouth looked around the room again, this time with the idea of escaping, and made some other discoveries.

First of all, the corners of this place are a bit damp, and coupled with the concrete walls and metal doors, it looks like an underground air-raid shelter that only rich people would build.

This can also be seen from the various old-fashioned daily necessities stored in the room.

In other words, if he could escape, the place he would find himself in should be a nice villa or mansion, and it should be built somewhere in the suburbs.

Is it the Twilight Annex?

Vermouth immediately thought of this huge and luxurious villa, which was once a property registered under the name of the organization and was auctioned off two years ago.

But recently I heard that the owner of that house died in the house, and the police blocked the news...

If it is the Twilight Villa, the owner of the villa has not been dead for long, and the facilities inside should still be usable.

For example, the phone!

Thinking of this, Vermouth felt excited.

As long as I can call Cool guy to inform him, I will feel satisfied.

But how to escape?

If this underground air-raid shelter had been designed according to its original concept, there would not have been a lock on the outside, only a lock inside the door.

In other words, the door in front is simply closed!

The only way for me to break free was from the chains on my feet.

Vermouth looked down at her left leg. The fine steel shackles locked around her ankle looked unbreakable.

Unless the feet were as small as a child's, an adult's feet would definitely not be able to be pulled out of the shackles.

At this moment, Vermouth really wishes she had an APTX-4869 pill so that she could make her body smaller.

But the fact is that it doesn't.

Vermouth looked around until she saw a jigsaw stuck diagonally among the pile of debris.

Chapter 900 Vermouth's Redemption

Not far from the sofa where Vermouth was sitting, there was a "hill" of various miscellaneous items, which was also a pile of miscellaneous items.

On one level of the jigsaw lay diagonally in a metal basin, revealing its dusty plastic handle and a short, red blade.

When Vermouth saw this old-fashioned jigsaw, light suddenly appeared in her eyes, as if the way to salvation lay in it.

As long as he could get the saw and cut the chains on his feet, he would have a chance to escape.

She supported her upper body with one hand and stretched the other hand to the limit to grab the jigsaw, but her stomach felt empty and she suddenly lost her strength.

I don’t know how long she has been hungry, and coupled with her injuries and weakness, now Vermouth feels deeply powerless even when lying down, let alone doing anything.

Even if she got a jigsaw, she wouldn't have the strength to cut the chain.

So the most urgent thing is to replenish some physical strength, even if it is only enough to escape and make an early warning call.

"Squeak-"

The sound of a mouse alerted Vermouth.

She turned her head to look at her knees. The greedy four-legged little beast was still sucking the blood and flesh from the wound. It seemed that it had the tacit consent of its owner to eat and drink so unscrupulously.

Vermouth bent her body, and in an instant, she burst out all her strength, and grabbed the little mouse that was eating and drinking heartily with her right hand.

The captured mouse was startled and struggled desperately between Vermouth's fingers, twisting its head and tail left and right restlessly.

But it was too late at this time. Human thoughts are so changeable. You are entertaining it in the last second, and then you grab it and have bad intentions towards it in the next second.

Without any hesitation, Vermouth opened her mouth and bit the mouse's head with quick and decisive movements.

There was a "crunch" sound between the teeth. The mouse did not walk peacefully, but happily.

Vermouth used the sharpness and bite force of her teeth to tear the fur on the mouse's neck and completely bite off the mouse's head.

"Pooh."

Vermouth spat out the fishy-smelling "gray ball" in her mouth, put the cross-section of the mouse's neck between her lips and began to suck.

Warm blood flowed slowly down the throat, like an oral liquid.

Although this "oral liquid" has an extremely fishy smell, it contains the energy that Vermouth needs most at the moment and cannot be refused.

Soon, the little mouse's body deflated, and its bulging belly became even smaller than before the meal.

Vermouth threw the mouse's body to the ground, wiped the blood from her lips, and started working.

She crawled on the sofa as much as she could, trying to get closer to the pile of junk.

With a clang, the stretched chain reminded her that she had reached her limit and could not get any closer.

At this time, the jigsaw was already very close. Vermouth propped herself up again, and the longest middle finger of her right hand barely hooked the saw blade.

Without caring about the possibility that the saw blade might cut her fingers, Vermouth hooked the jigsaw out of the metal basin with force and dropped it to the ground.

Got it!

Picking up the jigsaw, Vermouth was ecstatic, knowing that the key to escape was firmly in her hands!

Vermouth grabbed the jigsaw, sat up with her upper body, and began sawing towards the weakest part of the chain on her feet.

The sound of metal friction rustling sounded in the basement, repeating mechanically.

The sound was not pleasant, even unpleasant, but at this moment it carried all the hope of escape and was a pleasant sound from nature.

But after sawing for a while, Vermouth discovered the problem.

The old saw blade was not as sharp as it used to be. After sawing for a long time, the metal chips that fell off were just red rust.

As for the fine steel chain, there was only a small mark worn out on the surface, which could not be described as a scratch.

If this goes on, even if the saw blade breaks, the chain will not be cut.

Vermouth held the jigsaw in her hand, her eyes slowly moving to the bare ankle.

It's impossible to saw through the chains, but if it's a foot...

A bloody and terrifying plan emerged in Vermouth's mind, but it could guarantee her escape from this underground air-raid shelter.

But if I saw off my legs, it would add to the injuries and I would not be able to escape far on my own without losing too much blood.

But it's worth it just to be able to make a phone call.

The images of Ran Mouri and Shinichi Kudo who had saved her appeared in her mind, and Vermouth quickly approved of the plan.

She took off her coat, tied one sleeve around her calf above her ankle, held the sleeve in her mouth, and put the rest of the coat under her feet.

This not only acts as a tourniquet, but also provides something to bite in the mouth to prevent biting the tongue.

After making preparations, Vermouth looked at the jigsaw in her hand, her eyes suddenly became fierce, and she decisively sawed towards her ankle.

At first, I didn't feel much when I touched it, but as the saw blade moved back and forth, a piercing pain instantly invaded my brain.

Her beautiful face was twisted in pain, her teeth subconsciously bit her sleeves, and veins were exposed on her slender neck.

The blood flowed slowly along the left and right sides of the saw blade, and the amount kept increasing.

At first, Vermouth could still struggle and look at her ankle, but the intense pain stimulated her brain and made it impossible for her to concentrate. She could only subconsciously exert force on the sawed-open gap.

Before and after, before and after...

First the skin, then the meat, then the bones.

Vermouth's brain hurt so much that she almost fainted several times, but she stopped herself several times and used the saw again.

By the time the saw is halfway through, most of the nerves have been severed, and the most painful process has been overcome.

Next, Vermouth was no longer sensitive to pain, her brain stiff as she pushed the jigsaw in her hand like a zombie.

Only when her left foot was completely separated from her calf and the blood flowing from the cross-section soaked the coat underneath did Vermouth weakly let go of the saw in her hand.

His pale face was covered with fine beads of sweat, and two clear tears flowed uncontrollably from the corners of his eyes.

Vermouth was not feeling pity or regret for her current situation, she was simply crying in pain.

Even when she realized that the only way to escape was to have her legs sawed off, she did not shed tears or waver.

She never considered herself a good person.

She is the devilish minion of the fallen angel. As a devil, this is what she deserves. It's all her own fault.

But it is a great blessing in life for a devil like her to be favored by an angel.

Now, even if she has to try her best, she has to keep the people she cares about alive.

This can be considered as a small redemption for one's own evil.

Vermouth didn't dare to delay, nor did she treat the wound or take away her limb. She climbed down from the sofa and crawled towards the door.