As the stand-off dragged on, Alhaitham suddenly lowered his weapon, turned, and walked back to the sofa, paying no attention to the gun still trained on him.
Seeing Alhaitham's reaction, Gin also found the situation rather dull and lowered his own gun.
Seated on the sofa, Alhaitham said, "All right, since you're not planning to kill me, what exactly do you want?"
"And what makes you think we don't plan to kill you?"
Alhaitham opened the book lying on the coffee table and continued reading. "If you wanted me dead, the thing waiting for me behind that door would've been a bomb. I'm sure you can get your hands on explosives."
Gin gave a cold laugh. "Let's hope your next choice is just as smart."
"Then stop wasting time and state your business."
Since his big brother wasn't speaking, Vodka smoothly took over. "A-hem, we're here to invite you to join our Organization. Of course you can refuse… though the consequences…" He let out a deliberately menacing chuckle.
Alhaitham ignored the implied threat; he'd already anticipated something like this. In fact, he'd helped steer events toward this very outcome.
After all, while the Black Organization might look incompetent in the anime—Gin being the only one who ever seems to work while the rest are either useless or double agents—in real life a trans-national underground group that still thrives despite moles in multiple countries must have real capabilities.
Conan has bumped into them repeatedly without being unmasked or killed because he has protagonist armor; the Traveler might not be so lucky. The mission is to balance the red and black forces, so contact with the Organization is inevitable. Learning about them in advance—perhaps even joining—is necessary; that way the Traveler can stay informed and prepare for whatever they plan.
Frankly, though, Alhaitham hadn't expected Gin to move so quickly; three days from first contact to a home visit seemed hasty. He'd assumed they'd observe him longer.
Hearing Vodka's pitch, Alhaitham answered simply, "Fine."
"Huh?" Vodka was thrown; recruits always hesitated, refused, sometimes even threatened to call the police—though a few warnings usually cured that. This easy agreement felt off. "You're not planning to accept now and rat us out later, are you?"
"Don't be stupid," Alhaitham said. "I was never given a real choice; I'm just saving everyone time by skipping the usual dance."
He raised a hand and pointed toward the door.
"Since we're done and I've agreed, unless there's anything else, you may leave."
Vodka bristled at the casual dismissal of his big brother. "You—"
Gin, however, showed no anger. He studied Alhaitham reading on the sofa, then turned and headed out. "Don't leave the house tomorrow. Someone will pick you up at eight and drive you to the Organization's base."
With Gin gone, Vodka swallowed his protests and hurried after him.
In the porsche 356a, Vodka asked as he drove, "Big brother, d'you think that kid's quick acceptance is a set-up? And how the hell is he that good in a fight?"
Gin lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled toward the window. "Should be fine. The Organization's already checked him out. Alhaitham: honors graduate from a university in Country Y, joined a private research institute afterward. We contacted the institute under the name Shirohato Pharmaceuticals; he's here in Japan as an exchange researcher for the moment."
"As for why he can fight—Country Y has plenty of private militias and foreign mercenaries, lots of clashes, especially along the rainforest border. Records show he spent time there; if he couldn't handle himself, he wouldn't have come back in one piece."
"Of course, if he really is a rat, it'll be fun to play with him."
At that thought Gin's excitement leaked out as a palpable murderous aura.
Sensing it, Vodka shut up and focused on driving.
Next morning the car arrived punctually at the Beika Hotel to collect Alhaitham.
Neither driver nor passenger spoke; the ride was silent and smooth, ending once again at Shirohato Pharmaceuticals.
This time they bypassed the main entrance, slipping through a concealed side door. After verification the driver ushered Alhaitham in, delivered him to Gin, and left without a word.
Gin gave no greeting. "Follow me," he said, turning down a corridor.
The two walked an empty hallway under harsh fluorescent lights, their footsteps echoing unsettlingly.
Alhaitham paid the ominous atmosphere no mind, hands in his coat pockets, strolling casually after Gin at an unvarying pace.
At a secure door Gin verified his credentials and led the way into a laboratory.
Right behind him, Alhaitham saw someone already waiting—Shiho Miyano, whom he'd met only yesterday.
"Organization researcher, codename Sherry," Gin said, then locked eyes with Alhaitham. "You two met yesterday. Exchange any words?"
Hearing the question, Sherry's breath caught; her hands inside her coat pockets clenched. She feared Alhaitham might repeat her warning to Gin. Not that Gin could do much to her, but she couldn't afford fewer chances to see her sister.
Alhaitham's expression didn't change. "Just a greeting; I hadn't realized she was also in the Organization."
Gin studied them a moment, then let it go. "The Organization uses liquor codenames. Only those with one are core members. Whether you receive one later depends on your performance and the Boss's decision. Sherry will draw your blood, collect data, and raise your clearance inside this facility."
He stepped aside so Sherry could approach with the syringe.
Alhaitham offered no objection, extending his left arm while Gin watched.
The process was quick; Sherry spoke only a word or two when she needed him to move.
When it was done, Gin escorted Alhaitham to another lab.
"This is your lab from now on. Submit proposals for whatever you want to study and what supplies you'll need. I suggest you produce results quickly—otherwise…"