The thirty-second silent reading game meant counting to thirty seconds without looking at a watch, purely by feeling whether the timing was right.
Most people relied completely on their own sense of time, but that sense was terribly unreliable. Smart ones wouldn't just count blindly. They'd stretch out the rhythm, silently mouthing things like "one thousand one hundred eleven, one thousand one hundred twelve," using the extra length to match a second. By the time one number was read, about a second had passed.
Without a clock, time turned vague—especially short stretches. If it were a whole day, the sun rising and setting could be a reference. But for only thirty seconds, it was fragile and uncertain.
The guests all closed their eyes. Thirty seconds… some counted forward, some backward, each using their own way.
But Conan's whole body felt wrong. Something was off. The people around him seemed to turn into walls he couldn't see through, and that pounding in his chest… what was it?!
Conan didn't know—this was Kaitou Kid.
The stopwatch in the staffer's hand ticked closer to zero. Everyone waited to see who would raise their flag first.
Thirty seconds wasn't long. People started lifting their flags one after another. But Conan's tension only grew tighter—what was about to happen?
Colored flags spread across the floor like a mosaic carpet.
The last two seconds. Two… one…
"Stop!"
Boom—clang, clang, clatter…
The night wind rushed into the top-floor banquet hall, making people shiver. Conan spun around and saw the wide observation window facing Mount Fuji completely shattered. Glass exploded outward, flying like sparkling stars.
And through that dazzling spray of fragments burst in a figure clad in pure white, like snow from Fuji itself—Kaitou Kid.
Breaking through the window?!
No one knew how Kid had pulled it off. Conan's eyes widened, refusing to miss a single detail. It was a man—absolutely a man. His right hand pressed down on his hat brim, his left pulled at his cape, legs bent like a bow, charging through the air as if he were leaping across the night sky. He crashed into the banquet hall like a moth to flame, unyielding until he reached his goal.
He landed like a dancer, his entrance overwhelming, breathtaking.
Impossible—who was this man? Everyone demanded the answer. Even Conan, deep down, only had one faint suspicion: "Kaitou Kid?"
Haibara Ai also saw for the first time such an exaggerated entrance. Breaking through a window—cooler than any movie scene.
Kid finally knelt on one knee atop a round table. Around him, shards of glass still hadn't hit the floor, glittering in midair like staged special effects.
"Kaitou Kid, at your service!"
The voice rang clear into every ear. Was this really the phantom thief?!
Conan clenched his fists tight, every cell in his body trembling. A thief—so arrogant, so aggressive, a criminal with such force. Was this truly the phantom thief? This was the first time he had seen it for himself.
"Don't spout nonsense. You're a thief? You look like a circus acrobat to me." Mouri Kogoro scoffed.
Kid slowly stood, folding his cape, gazing down on everyone with a faint smile. "As my note foretold, I've come to steal the soul of the Twin Tower Skyscraper."
"Protect Kisaragi-sensei's painting!" Mouri barked. In his mind, the most valuable thing was that painting of Mount Fuji. Nothing else was worth stealing.
But Kid's target wasn't that. He suddenly spread his arms wide. Behind him, a blinding light flared, so strong no one could look directly.
When the glow softened and people opened their eyes, they could see through Kid's silhouette. And behind him… if that wasn't Mount Fuji, then what else could it be?!
In the darkness of night, Mount Fuji itself had inexplicably begun to shine.
"This is the soul of the Twin Tower Skyscraper," Kid declared.
He was right. Without the view of Mount Fuji, the Twin Towers had nothing worth boasting about. But how could it be? How could Mount Fuji be stolen? Conan was completely lost.
"Are you an idiot? How can a mountain be stolen?" Mouri Kogoro blurted the question everyone wanted to ask.
"I'll make it disappear." Kaitou Kid smiled. "The time to witness a miracle has come. Don't blink."
And then the mountain vanished. Before everyone's eyes, Mount Fuji was gone.
"How is that possible?" Conan's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't even blinked, yet one second the mountain was there and the next it was gone. How could that be?
Boom!
From where the mountain had vanished, fireworks exploded, turning the night sky into day. Kid's smiling face filled the heavens. The show was brief, but unforgettable. For fame, Kid had gone all out.
At that moment, Kid drew his magic card gun from his waist, spun it with a flourish, and fired a special card into the ceiling. The lights instantly went out. In the darkness, his voice rang out: "Mount Fuji will be kept by me."
About three seconds later, the lights came back. Kid was gone. Only the shattered observation window remained, and the empty sky where Fuji should have been.
"How can this be?!" Even Conan couldn't understand what he'd just witnessed. What had Kid done?
Haibara Ai stared blankly, unable to process it. Even she, always calm, had to admit this was beyond science.
Everyone else was worse off. "Ran, am I dreaming?"
"Sonoko, no… I feel chills all over. It's not a dream," Ran said blankly. "Mount Fuji… Mount Fuji disappeared!"
"No! I still wanted to climb Mount Fuji someday." Sonoko clung to her friend, the two girls holding each other for comfort in this night full of shocks.
And they weren't the only ones who couldn't tell reality from illusion. Everyone else was the same.
Downstairs, police rushed up as fast as they could. After hearing what happened, they were left speechless too.
For Kisaragi Hōsui, the artist famed for painting Mount Fuji, it was as if his soul had been ripped away. He stood like dead wood, stunned. The mountain he loved, that he had poured his life into, was gone?!
In less than one minute, Kaitou Kid had appeared, vanished, and taken away a mountain.
Conan frowned. He swore this had to have an explanation. But how had Kid done it? And who was Kid really? Was the thief still here, hiding among them?
"Stepping on the countdown to heaven, I will steal the soul of the Twin Tower Skyscraper." Kaitou Kid had truly done it. Conan's brain felt like mush, but one thing was certain—he would never forget Kid again.
Everyone who had seen the warning note now regretted dismissing it. If they had taken it seriously, maybe they could have stopped him. But even if they had, the result wouldn't have changed. Kid had leveled up.
He hadn't stolen Mount Fuji with superpowers, but with technology—the shrinking ray. Why steal a mountain? For fame. In this world, without a grand crime, no one would ever take notice. A jewel heist wouldn't cut it. Who knew how long it would take to be remembered that way?
But to steal Mount Fuji—that was different. One move, instant legend. By tomorrow, no one could avoid talking about it. Kid's goal was achieved. As for whether Mount Fuji would be returned, that was another matter.