[Multiverse] I Became The Prime Minister In A Mashed Up Anime World

When Toru Fujiwara saw the special pistol in Belmode's hand, his eyes narrowed slightly.

I was exposed.

That was Fujiwara's first thought.

Then, he quickly ran through all his interactions with Chris Wynyard—or rather, with Belmode—in his mind.

Images and moments flashed in his head, but he still couldn't pinpoint when his identity was revealed.

Noticing the contemplation in Fujiwara's eyes, Belmode, wearing nothing but her underwear and panties, with black stockings on her slender legs, flashed a playful smile.

"Fujiwara Toru, the illegitimate son of Fujiwara Yoshitaka, the current chairman of the National Security Council. You have mixed Chinese heritage."

"Your mother was deceived by Fujiwara Yoshitaka, got pregnant with you, and the Fujiwara family didn't acknowledge you. She brought you to America when you were three, and died when you were five."

"At five, you were an illegal immigrant wandering the streets until an orphanage took you in. At eight, you were taken in by the current CIA director for special training."

"Trained by the CIA, you excelled beyond ordinary people, becoming the adopted son of the CIA director."

"You personally wiped out the Colombian drug cartel, capturing its leader and sending him to prison. By the age of 20, you became a CIA inspector with the codename 'Wicker.'"

Belmode spoke smoothly, a mint cigarette delicately between her fingers as she exhaled a puff of smoke. Fujiwara, sitting a few steps away, could smell the fresh mint.

Fujiwara remained calm, raising the silenced pistol in his hand. He walked over to the sofa and sat down.

"Oh? How do you know all of this?"

Though his voice was calm, his mind raced.

Damn it. There's an undercover from the Black Organization in the CIA, and it's not a low position!

There were thirteen levels in the CIA, split into four sections: Management, Operations, Technology, and Intelligence.

Fujiwara, being part of Operations, was at Level 4, a senior position for his age. Above him, there were nine levels, but the CIA was a linear management structure, so aside from the director, few knew the identities of lower-level agents.

Fujiwara's mind quickly ran through the few people who could have accessed his personal information. Who exposed me?

If I find out who it was, I'll make you regret it.

Belmode flicked her golden curls and smiled wickedly. "Secrets make women more attractive, boy."

Fujiwara, unphased, smirked and replied, "Then Miss Belmode, if you know all about me, why don't you tell me everything?"

Her lips curled into a gentle smile.

"You returned to Japan a year ago. You transferred from Phillips Exeter Academy to Shuchiin Academy as a third-year student. You ranked highly in Japan's entrance exams and applied to the University of Tokyo."

"In the University of Tokyo entrance exams, you placed first. So smart, aren't you? You managed to study while working for the CIA."

Fujiwara gave no reaction, keeping his face unreadable.

I used cheats. Naturally, my learning abilities are beyond average, and I worked hard. But even so, acing the University of Tokyo exams isn't easy. There are geniuses everywhere.

The truth was, he had accessed CIA resources to get hold of the University of Tokyo entrance exam content. It was easy with his connections.

Belmode continued, "But I'm curious, boy. Why did you return to Japan? Phillips Exeter Academy is one of the top schools in the U.S. With your grades, entering Stanford, Harvard, or similar would've been easy."

"But you came back to Japan and entered the University of Tokyo. Could it be that the CIA has secret dealings here?"

"Or maybe it's because your relatives are in Japan. I remember you have a cousin and two other relatives—Fujiwara Toyoshi, Fujiwara Chika, and Fujiwara Moe?"

Her smile was radiant, as if she held the upper hand.

Fujiwara remained composed. "The Fujiwara family is a political dynasty in Japan, with a thousand years of history. They're the leading family among the Five Regent Families."

"Of course, this means nothing to your organization. You'd assassinate even the Prime Minister of Japan or the U.S. President if it suited you."

"Trying to use my family against me? You'd better rethink that."

"I don't care about my relatives. They're just names to me."

He paused, a dark glint in his eyes. "But if they die, I'll avenge them."

"For example, right now—Belmode. You know my abilities, yet you dare point a gun at me. You don't seriously think you can kill me, do you? Or is there a sniper out there, waiting for the signal?"

Fujiwara glanced toward the window. From his position in the hotel's high-rise, he could easily spot a sniper's position.

"There are no snipers. Nobody in the organization knows about your identity except for me and the boss."

Belmode's gaze grew cold, but her voice was laced with sadness. "Boy... Have you known my identity all along? Have you been deceiving me this whole time?"

Her smile turned self-deprecating. "As expected. I'm a witch—no angel will ever save me. People like me are doomed to fall into hell."

Her acting was flawless, a skill honed from her days as Sharon Wynyard, a Hollywood actress. But Fujiwara had seen enough to know when someone was truly revealing their feelings.

Fujiwara sat back in silence before replying, "I didn't know your true identity before. Who would've guessed that Sharon Wynyard and Chris Wynyard, a famous Hollywood actress and her daughter, were the same person?"

"And that they'd be part of an international crime syndicate."

He locked eyes with Belmode's striking, feminine face. There was no mask now; he had checked.

Chris Wynyard, her key persona, was no longer a disguise, just a makeup-altered version of her true face. Her platinum hair wasn't a wig, but simply dyed light gold.

At first, Fujiwara hadn't known Chris Wynyard was Belmode. He had only learned the truth after fully recovering his past memories.

"Belmode, you've killed FBI and CIA agents, MI6 operatives, and even former KGB members. You're stained with the blood of many."

"You may be the 'Thousand Faces Witch,' but technology is too advanced now. You've exposed too much. All I need to do is send your information to these agencies. Do you really think you can survive?"

Belmode fell silent. She knew her ability to disguise herself was formidable, but it wasn't invincible.

Despite the Black Organization's reach, it couldn't control every intelligence agency. Their web of influence was not as vast as they liked to believe.

Fujiwara smirked. "The most incredible thing is this: Everyone thinks you, the 'Thousand Faces Witch,' stay youthful with your disguises."

"But you've let something slip. You're at least fifty, yet your face stays in its twenties."

"This isn't something cosmetic surgery can achieve. How do you stay young forever?"

Belmode's expression faltered. Fujiwara had uncovered the one secret she was most desperate to hide.

Fujiwara, unfazed, shifted his gaze to a red plum blossom on the bed. "Didn't expect you to be an old maid, huh? Your acting is good, but your clumsy movements gave you away."

Fujiwara had seen his fair share of women, and Belmode's acting wasn't fooling him.

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