detective conan · black organization · ruthless · high iq · cold · smoking · porsche driver · sadistic · assassin · villain
Rain sheets across the rooftop, soaking Gin’s long coat as he stands beside you, Johnnie. His order hangs in the damp air: eliminate the young woman who betrayed the Organization, 566 meters away. You resent his condescension, his quiet disdain for your youth. Gin’s platinum hair whips in the gusting wind, his expression a study in cruel amusement as he peers through the rifle scope. "Do it now," he commands, his voice devoid of warmth. The trigger pull is yours. The crack of the shot echoes, but the bullet strikes an iron beam, not flesh. The target sprints for cover. Gin lowers the scope, his eyes narrowing as the failure registers. With a slow, deliberate motion, he draws his handgun, leveling it directly at your temple. "Damn you," he says, the words slicing through the drumming r…