The room was thick with tension, but Yusaku Kudo wore a gentle smile as he looked at his eldest son sprawled across the sofa, his expression a mix of exasperation and resignation. "Don't be mad, Shinichi. Your mom and I were just so worried about you."
"Exactly, Shinichi," Yukiko chimed in, her restored beauty radiant under the soft light. "If we hadn't spoken to Dr. Agasa on the phone, we wouldn't have even known you'd been through something so serious."
"So, you two cooked up this vile prank?" Conan, unimpressed, wasn't ready to let his theatrical parents off the hook.
The past day and night had nearly given him a heart attack. It was downright excessive.
"I just wanted to test your detective skills," Yusaku said, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "And as expected, you followed every clue I left, step by step, right to this place."
A smug smile tugged at Yusaku's lips as he spoke.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound interrupted Yusaku, who was mid-gesture, holding up a mask as he began explaining his latest creation, the Dark Night Baron.
"Coming! That must be the food I ordered," Dr. Agasa said sheepishly, scratching his head as he shuffled toward the door.
"Still such a glutton…" Conan muttered, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Had Dr. Agasa, who'd arrived barely ten minutes earlier, really taken the chance to order food already?
As the door swung open, a chilling voice cut through the air. "Is this the meal you ordered?"
Conan froze. The voice was hauntingly familiar. He turned, and with a single glance, his blood ran cold, his mind plunging into a void of endless darkness. His thoughts screeched to a halt.
Gin!
"It's ours," Dr. Agasa said, eyeing the man in black pushing a food cart, his demeanor anything but normal. The doctor glanced back at Conan, still seated on the sofa.
Dressed in black, with long silver hair… how could this be?
"Doctor, run!" Conan shouted, snapping back to reality. He leapt from the sofa, positioning himself protectively in front of his still-chattering parents.
Dr. Agasa's face paled with panic, but before he could move, a silenced pistol was pressed against his forehead.
Gin's lips curled into a cold smirk as he nudged the doctor into the room with the gun. "Let's have a little chat inside."
The door clicked shut.
With a swift motion, Gin struck Dr. Agasa's head with the butt of his gun. Blood trickled down as the doctor's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, unconscious.
"Doctor!" Conan's eyes widened, his small frame shielding his parents as Gin forced them back toward the window.
Cornered with nowhere left to retreat, Yusaku stepped forward, standing protectively in front of his wife and son. His voice was low and steady. "Who the hell are you?"
"Yusaku Kudo, world-renowned mystery novelist," Gin said, his eyes glinting with murderous intent. "Word is, you've been hiring a few rats to sniff around our business."
Conan's mind raced, piecing it together. This wasn't about him being exposed as Shinichi Kudo. No, this was about his father's secret investigation into that organization. It had been uncovered.
Yusaku remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"Take your pick," Gin said, his smile as cold as ice. He pointed the dark barrel of his gun at the family and tossed three capsules onto the floor. "Swallow the poison yourselves, or I'll do it for you."
"I'll take it," Yusaku said without hesitation, bending down to scoop up the capsules. In one swift motion, he threw them into his mouth and swallowed. "Just don't hurt them."
"Darling!" Yukiko cried.
"No!" Conan lunged forward, desperate to force his father to spit them out.
As Yusaku's lips began to bleed, his voice weak as he muttered his final words, Gin let out a heavy sigh. "That's enough, Kudo. You should leave this place."
He understood why Yusaku had gone to such lengths.
This was, in his eyes, a scene that could very well play out in the future.
Conan turned, stunned, staring at Gin. "Tsuneo… Tsuneo?!"
"You guys!"
Tsuneo tore off the mask of Gin's face, yanking the voice changer from his collar.
Yusaku, as if revived, sat up straight, shaking his head with a wry smile. Dr. Agasa, previously "unconscious," stood up, brushing himself off.
The warm, familial atmosphere from their earlier game had vanished, replaced by a heavy, oppressive silence.
"Tsuneo, let's pick up where we left off," Yusaku said, settling onto the sofa. He crossed his arms, his face calm but his gaze sharp.
Tsuneo glanced at Conan, whose expression was grim, and walked to the window. "This is a massive transnational organization," he began. "Its signature color is black, and its members often operate in dark clothing. You could call it the Black Organization."
"It has deep connections in politics, medicine, science, economics—everywhere."
"Is that why you stopped me from investigating?" Yusaku asked.
"Exactly," Tsuneo nodded, taking a seat beside Conan. "Anyone could be a friend, but anyone could also be an enemy. Blind trust will lead you straight to the guillotine."
Yusaku leaned forward. "You've got questions, don't you, Shinichi? Today, you get three."
Conan, regaining some of his spark, didn't hesitate. "Who are you, really?"
At his words, Yusaku, Yukiko, and Dr. Agasa all turned to Tsuneo, their eyes locked on him.
"Just an ordinary guy trying to climb to the top of the mountain," Tsuneo said with a faint smile. "Of course, I do some… unordinary things at night. You could say that's how I gather my information."
"Do you know anything specific about that drug?" Conan asked, his second question zeroing in on the poison.
"It's called APTX4869," Tsuneo replied, shaking his head. "From what I know, it's still in development. There's no antidote yet."
Conan lowered his gaze, the lenses of his glasses catching the glow of the setting sun. A faint, unreadable smile curled his lips.
His third question came, seemingly unrelated to the Black Organization. "Do you really think I should leave?"
Tsuneo chuckled softly. "You're asking me that? Sounds like you already know the answer, don't you?"
With that, Tsuneo shed his black trench coat and strode out of Room 301, returning to his own room next door. He rolled up his sleeves, ready to dig into a hearty meal.
Playing the mysterious mastermind was exhausting. Nothing beat kicking back with a movie and some good food.
Ten minutes later, a knock came at the door. Tsuneo, a drumstick in hand, opened it.
A certain pint-sized detective strolled in, hands in his pockets. He walked to the window, a confident smirk on his face, and turned to Tsuneo. "You'll always have my back, right?"
Tsuneo, mid-bite, glanced over. That small silhouette, framed by the sunset, exuded an almost absurd level of swagger.
Compared to that, Tsuneo felt his own attempt at coolness fall flat. He fired back with a playful triple retort: "Who are you, kid?" "We close or something?" "Want me to call the cops?"
(End of Chapter)
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