The Master of the annex began to recount the events of forty years ago.
"In those days, this annex was the site of a secret gathering, a meeting of the elite from both the political and economic spheres."
"On the surface, it was held to honor the memory of Renya Karasuma, who had passed away at the age of ninety-nine. In reality, however, the secret meeting was an auction for the vast collection of art Karasuma had amassed during his lifetime."
"There were over three hundred items up for bid. Consequently, the auction was scheduled to span three days and three nights."
"On the second night, amidst a torrential rainstorm, two men arrived at the annex, drenched to the bone."
"The two men, their lips trembling from the cold, pleaded: 'We have lost our way in this storm. Please, let us stay here until the rain subsides.'"
"The organizer of the auction initially refused to grant them entry. However, one of the men produced a small package from his pocket and handed it to the host."
"Inside was a particular brand of cigarette. After the organizer took a single drag of the men's tobacco, his mind—for reasons unknown—seemed to change. He invited both men inside the annex."
"When the other guests saw this, they too succumbed to the men's allure. Before long, the halls of the annex were thick with a dense, heavy smoke."
Hearing this, the gathered detectives immediately realized the gravity of the situation. Those cigarettes were clearly laced with something—something potent enough to alter a person's perception and judgment.
In a high-stakes auction filled with the titans of industry and government, it was unthinkable to allow unidentified strangers inside. Yet, the man in charge had completely reversed his stance after just one cigarette...
The Master's voice continued: "Though some guests initially argued over the sudden arrival of these visitors, the situation shifted violently in an instant."
"Suddenly, a man let out a blood-curdling scream, as if he had seen a demon. He abandoned the priceless artwork he had just won and sprinted blindly toward the exit."
"A woman began to sob uncontrollably, begging for forgiveness from someone unseen, her tears falling in a never-ending stream."
"Another man, his face twisted in a manic grin, gripped a fountain pen and began to stab his own wrists repeatedly."
"In the end, the guests began to fight over the auctioned treasures. They drew the ancient katanas and legendary swords that were up for bid, hacking at one another until the auction hall was transformed into a living hell."
"When that nightmare of a night finally ended, eight people lay dead, and over a dozen more were left in comatose states. As for the two men... they had vanished into the night, taking every last piece of artwork with them."
The story came to an end, hanging heavy in the air. Ms. Ishihara, the maid, entered the room and began to pour after-dinner tea for the guests.
"Strange. Why was a massacre of this magnitude never reported in the news?" Kogoro Mouri asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"The answer likely lies within the guest list," Ogami Shukuzen said, crossing his arms. "Those people were the cream of the political and economic crop."
"That makes sense. Better to keep the world in the dark than to let it be known they were played like fiddles by two nobodies..." Senma Furuyo nodded.
It was a cold but logical calculation.
"Rather than conducting a massive investigation that would bring the truth to light, it was easier to bury the entire incident to protect their social standing," Hakuba Saguru added.
"I suspect those two men counted on that outcome from the very beginning," Mogi Harufumi remarked. He felt the instigators had likely planned for the bloodbath.
"Wait, where did Tsuneo-niisan go?" Ran noticed that the handyman was no longer in his seat.
"He probably went to the restroom," Conan replied, having noticed Tsuneo leaving earlier, but he didn't give it much thought.
"My objective," the Master's voice boomed, "is to have you, the great detectives, reenact that tragedy from forty years ago."
"I want to witness the unsightly spectacle of you all slaughtering one another in a fit of greed for the treasure."
"However, searching for treasure in a mansion of this size is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Allow me to provide a hint."
"Two travelers, hurried by the stride, gazed at the stars this night, as the demon descended upon the castle. The King fled with his treasure. The Queen wept into the Holy Grail, praying for heaven's mercy. The soldier breathed his last, falling on his own blade, and the earth changed its hue."
"Don't you agree that those verses perfectly describe the story about to unfold within these walls?"
The Master offered the riddle, his voice dripping with anticipation at the prospect of the detectives killing each other for gold.
At that moment, the door pushed open and Tsuneo walked back in, a casual smile on his face as he looked at the group.
"Is something wrong?"
The handyman was curious as to why the boy detective was looking at him with such a bizarre expression.
"It's nothing..." Conan turned his head away.
Who would want to fight to the death with a guy like you? I'd rather run my head into a wall and get it over with.
"If I may be so bold," Ikumi Kyosuke said, resting her chin on her crossed hands and scanning the room. "Whether or not we start killing each other depends on who the opponent is—and whether we actually feel like doing it."
I'm sorry, but none of us are planning on smoking those strange cigarettes of yours.
"Of course, none of you can withdraw from this game. You have already been ensnared by the 'magic' I have cast. There is no escape."
"Now, I wait only for the first scream to ring out. Then, this game of wits shall truly begin."
"Whichever of you finds the treasure must go to the room on the fourth floor of the central tower and input the location into the computer."
"At that time, I will honor our agreement: I shall grant the winner half of the treasure and reveal the way out of this place!"
Just as the Master finished speaking, a scream actually tore through the room.
Mogi Harufumi clutched his throat, his eyes bulging as he let out a pained, guttural roar.
"Mr. Mogi!" Kogoro Mouri bolted upright.
"What happened?!" Ran cried out, her eyes darting to the tea on the table. Was it the tea?!
"I'm perfectly fine," Mogi suddenly chuckled, dropping his hands and looking completely unruffled.
He looked around at his colleagues. Man, you detectives are a cold bunch. Hardly anyone even moved.
Conan, still in his seat, shot the man an exasperated look. That was a tasteless joke.
"However, I'm not sticking around for this game. I've never had much of an interest in treasure hunting," Mogi said, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to leave.
"But how do you plan on getting out?" Ran asked, genuinely curious.
The cars were scrap metal, and the bridge was gone.
"This isn't a deserted island in the middle of the ocean. If you wander through the mountains long enough, you're bound to find a path down. I'm heading out first. See ya, 'master' detectives!" Mogi waved a hand over his shoulder and walked toward the exit.
Tsuneo, however, remained silent, his eyes fixed on someone else who was currently clutching their throat.
You might not be dead, Mogi... but this one over here is about to kick the bucket.
(End of Chapter)
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