"Lucky." Kazawa set the gun down, rotated his wrist, and sat back in his guest seat with a smile. "I had some advantages. After all, I'm a practical person."
Indeed, that was quite practical.
The moment those words were spoken, everyone inside and outside the studio who had ever seen Kumail's shooting skills couldn't help but look up.
Miyano Akemi rubbed her cold knees, trying to ease the phantom pain that faintly returned.
You ask a sniper who can land a precise shot to the knee in the dead of night to compete with you using an air rifle—are you trying to get yourself embarrassed?
"Hehe…" Matsuo Takashi's mouth twitched. He looked at the two detectives, still chatting and laughing naturally, and walked silently back to his seat.
Forget it. Just be more open-minded… After the incident, there'll be more suspects anyway.
As the worst performer in the shooting contest, Matsuo Takashi returned to his seat, clearly annoyed.
In contrast, Nagai Ayako was radiant with excitement and spent quite a while praising the two detectives until the director reminded her of the show's timing through her earpiece. Only then did she reluctantly wrap up.
She felt a pang of regret.
What a thrilling duel—this clip could've gone viral online. These lazy producers…
"Nowadays, crime comes in all forms, and we're seeing an increase in new criminal patterns that spark public discussion." Matsuo Takashi, finally regaining his spirit, quickly moved to the next segment.
"That's right. Crimes are becoming more covert, and everyone must stay alert," Nagai Ayako said earnestly to the camera. "Speaking of hot cases... Detective Mouri recently encountered a very typical example."
"Oh? Can you tell us about it?"
"It happened at a college student party," Nagai Ayako said, flipping through her cue cards. At the same time, a related report page appeared on the screen—it was a coverage of the Uchida Asami case from two days ago. "It involved new types of special drugs and nearly caused a major incident. Thankfully, Mr. Mouri reacted quickly, stopping the criminal before anything happened and saving the students present. Could you share more about this case?"
Kogoro Mouri glanced at Goro Akechi, who sat with a calm expression, acting as if nothing had happened.
In truth, he hadn't discovered or stopped anything himself. But Kazawa had insisted on staying out of the spotlight, and in the end, the media had pinned the credit on Mouri.
Still… it was an issue worth discussing.
Clearing his throat, Mouri said, "That's correct. This case wasn't very complicated. The criminal tried to drug a woman he liked with sleeping pills, then set a fire and pretend to rescue her as a hero. That kind of thinking is sick. Arson is a felony that could lead to serious losses or even casualties. Thankfully, we stopped him before anything happened. The criminal explained his motive to the police afterward."
"Arson really is a terrible crime," Nagai Ayako said. "But what does this have to do with special drugs?"
"The problem is that he tried to slip this drug into the victim's drink," Kogoro Mouri answered seriously.
Kazawa, pretending to be hearing it for the first time, looked up at the display behind them with a surprised expression.
As they continued the conversation, the screen froze on the KA03 packaging—a striking orange medicine box.
"Ah, that medicine," Kazawa said naturally, showing expressions of surprise, concern, and thought in smooth succession. "That's definitely a big issue."
Nagai Ayako, having kept her eyes on Kazawa and knowing exactly who drew viewers in, immediately followed up: "Akechi-kun, you know about this drug too? Can you share more with us?"
"This is something the public should be informed about." Kazawa sat up straighter, turned toward the camera's red indicator light, and calmly explained the same points he had mentioned two days earlier at the birthday party.
At the Polo Café, Amuro Tooru's easy smile gradually faded as he listened closely.
"KA03…" His brow furrowed.
KA was a class of psychological control drugs frequently used by the organization.
The drug Kazawa had handed him earlier—later secured by the Zero Division—was KA02's antidote.
Currently, their reverse-engineering efforts had reached 40 to 50 percent. The lab had published a preliminary report on the drug's mechanism. Team Zero had concluded that KA02 likely had addictive properties, breaking down certain hormonal thresholds in the body to suppress emotional responses.
Amuro knew the organization had long infiltrated the medical industry, and he even had a vague idea of where the Kazawa couple had worked in the past.
But now, realizing that a derivative from that drug line had already entered the Japanese market as a commercial product—that was another matter entirely.
Kazawa had no idea he was ruining his senior's rare moment of leisure—thanks to him, poor Kazami Yuya had once again been turned into a spinning top whipped into overtime.
Kazawa briefly explained the harm of the drug and how there was already a base of users overseas. He emphasized, "This drug should not be allowed to circulate freely. Its social harm goes far beyond being called a 'strong hypnotic.' Many people have no awareness of drug abuse, and when eating out, they don't think to protect themselves. Detective Mouri's alertness didn't just protect a single victim—it potentially saved a young man from descending into criminal ruin."
The scene became solemn. The tone shifted to something more emotional and uplifting, and quiet applause filled the studio.
"You flatter me, really…" Kogoro Mouri was rarely this embarrassed. But looking at the young man who'd actually done the work and was now sincerely praising him, he couldn't bring himself to say anything humble.
Oh well… it's important to help the younger generation keep a low profile…
"How can you call it flattery?" Kazawa chuckled, clapping as well. "You're also working with the police to trace the source of the drug and prevent more victims. That's a great thing, Mori-senpai. Don't be so modest."
As he spoke, Kazawa could feel his phone vibrating nonstop in the inner pocket of his jacket.
The buzzing wouldn't stop, so he discreetly shifted the mic clipped to his collar farther away to avoid picking up the noise.
Elsewhere in Tokyo, in a black Porsche, Vodka sat sweating bullets as he stared at the live stream on his laptop—Kazawa was publicly exposing the organization's secrets in front of the nation—and then looked over at his boss, who had cranked the car's air conditioning so high it was practically freezing.
He didn't dare say a word.
Instead, he buried his head and typed frantically, firing off emails to Kumail one after another.
But deep down, he was panicking.
Why are you making me send messages? This is a live broadcast! How is he supposed to check his phone or call back?
And Kumail, you damn dog coin, stop talking already! I can't smash you through the screen, but I can smash my own laptop!