"Did he overhear the details of the transaction, or was his face seen by the other party?" Tsuneo asked, looking at the boy in the photo.
"Yes, it seemed to be related to firearms."
"As for whether he was seen, he probably wasn't, but Jun'ichi was wearing his school uniform that day." Mrs. Mizumoto nodded as she recalled.
Her son had told her these things after returning home.
At the time, upon hearing about it, she had told him to pretend he knew nothing and not to meddle.
She hadn't expected an accident to occur just a few days later.
"Firearms?" Tsuneo turned to look at Haibara.
Are they doing that kind of business?
Haibara shook her head.
Hearing this, it didn't sound like the Organization's modus operandi.
Unless it was a very important target that needed to be covered up by an "accident," they would likely just eliminate the target directly without caring if anyone investigated.
"But if they only saw the uniform, it should be hard to identify which specific student it was, right?" Dr. Agasa asked in confusion.
Even if they watched the school gate every day, there were simply too many people wearing school uniforms!
"It might have been his school bag or something similar." Tsuneo handed the photo to the Professor.
The bag the boy in the photo was carrying had a rather unique design with many white stripes.
If they had seen his height and back, and then identified the bag's design to lie in wait, it would definitely make things much easier.
"I thought so too, and I told the police everything." Mrs. Mizumoto sighed slightly.
The police had conducted various investigations.
But with no clues, the so-called "firearms transaction scene" could only be dismissed as the nonsense of a high school student.
"Tsuneo-kun, are you going to accept this request?" Dr. Agasa asked the Repairman beside him as Mrs. Mizumoto went to pour water.
To be honest, the possibility of this case being an accident felt very high.
Tsuneo looked down at the boy in the photo.
This kid is smiling so happily; did he find a girlfriend?
"You guys discuss the commission fee with her." Without waiting for Mrs. Mizumoto to return, the Repairman took the photo and walked out.
"What does he plan to do?" Dr. Agasa was clueless.
Three years was neither short nor long. Where would he even start investigating?
"It's already dark. What do you think he'll do?" Haibara looked at the clock on the wall and asked in return.
Undoubtedly, that method was simple and fast, albeit a bit violent.
Akemi smiled and nodded; that's exactly how it would be...
Night.
"I want to check a license plate." Tsuneo, dressed in black and walking down the street, spoke into the phone with a cold voice through a mask-type voice changer.
This mobile phone was exclusively for the Dark Knight.
It had to be said, the contacts stored inside were all very useful people.
"O-Okay, no problem!" The man on the other end agreed immediately, though his voice trembled slightly, hinting at past experiences.
"Fifteen minutes." Tsuneo gave the license plate number, set the time limit, and hung up.
These people needed a sense of urgency.
The other party was very efficient.
Barely ten minutes had passed when the phone rang back.
"It's been checked. That truck was sold two years ago. The original owner was named Miyata Kazuo, and the current owner is..." The man spoke quickly and clearly, afraid of wasting time.
"So, three years ago, the owner of this truck was a man named Miyata Kazuo?" Tsuneo interrupted and asked.
"Yes!" the man replied spiritedly.
"Find out where he is now."
A Mahjong Parlor in an Alley.
The neon sign of this two-story building was colorful. judging by the location, it was extremely secluded and didn't look like a legitimate establishment at all.
"Again!" Miyata Kazuo shuffled tiles with one hand while continuously exploring the body of the person in his embrace with the other.
Engaging in both brain exercise and scientific exploration simultaneously was quite busy work.
The woman in his arms wore heavy makeup, her perfume almost overpowering. Facing a middle-aged man who weighed as much as three of her, her smile didn't falter in the slightest as she wrapped her arms around his neck with a grin.
This is probably what they call professional ethics, right?
This mahjong parlor seemed to specialize in this service; several tables on the second floor had similar arrangements.
However, it was clear that Miyata Kazuo was indeed one of the more powerful figures there.
Not only was his waist thick, but the gold chain around his neck was also substantial.
"Miyata Kazuo?"
Just as Miyata took a tile from the player to his left and a smile appeared on his face, a cold voice rang out from behind him.
The woman in his arms noticed the newcomer first, frowning with a strange expression.
Who wears something like that in this muggy weather?
"Who is it?" Miyata Kazuo, clearly unhappy about being interrupted, creaked his chair around to look.
"I'm here to ask you about something from three years ago." The black-clad figure's tone remained unchanged, still chilly.
"Three years ago?" Miyata Kazuo scanned the figure up and down with his chubby face.
What about three years ago?
Is this guy sick?
"If you want to play, find a seat. If not, get lost!" Miyata Kazuo waved his fat hand, adorned with a gold ring, speaking with extreme impatience.
Judging by his tone, he likely owned this mahjong parlor.
"Heh..." The black-clad figure reached out, grabbed that round head, and forcibly twisted it around.
Seeing this, seven or eight men stood up from the surrounding tables on the second floor, all staring at him with unfriendly eyes.
"Get him!" Miyata Kazuo ignored the woman in his arms and the table in front of him, jumping up and shouting loudly.
What the hell do you think this place is?!
Experienced guests grabbed their money and hid in the corners the moment the table was flipped, waiting for the fight to end.
In irregular mahjong parlors like this, such things happened occasionally.
Although it seemed unsafe, much like the dance halls popular years ago, there was indeed something alluring about it.
"!" Just as Miyata Kazuo leaped up, he was slapped fiercely and fell back down, clutching his fat face and staring wide-eyed at the woman in front of him.
By this time, several henchmen had drawn knives and clubs.
They shouted loudly as they charged over.
This kind of shouting was a characteristic feature; punks especially loved to use it during gang fights.
Against silent types who gritted their teeth and stared, one had to be more careful.
Seeing them aim their blades at his arms, Tsuneo knew exactly what kind of trash they were.
"Kill him!"
Miyata Kazuo shouted, clutching his face.
"It seems that really wasn't an accident."
"Wouldn't you agree?" Tsuneo caught an incoming wrist and asked the knife-wielding, dumbfounded henchman.
"You..."
Before the henchman could curse, his entire arm was snapped by immense force.
Tsuneo kicked the wailing man into silence, looked at the few people in front of him, and sneered.
"Heh, what a delightful day..."
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