Conan's face immediately softened into that harmless smile he wore so well, though behind it his mind whirred at lightning speed. Gazing at the two figures within that bizarre space, he felt a disquieting sense of unreality.
All he had wanted was to head upstairs and sleep, yet upon opening his bedroom door he had stumbled into a wholly unfamiliar realm.Am I dreaming? Or is this some lingering side effect of the Black Organization's drug?
"What the—! Conan?!"
Just as he was about to seek out Professor Agasa for an examination, one of the figures in this hallucination called him by name. Worse still…
Conan instinctively clutched his rear, forcing a strained smile. "Heh… Uncle, I'm going to bed now. Goodbye."
His instincts screamed that nothing good would come from lingering here. No matter his curiosity, he took a step back and quietly closed the door.
It was only then that he noticed the door, once an ordinary bedroom panel, had somehow transformed into one seemingly constructed from tiny wooden blocks. Such a door he had never seen before.
Yet as soon as he shut it, the strange portal dissolved into nothingness, revealing his familiar bedroom door once more.What on earth…? A hallucination? Or some trick of technology?
For a detective, supernatural power was never the answer—accepting that would render his craft meaningless.
At that moment, the door next to his opened, and Ran stepped out, frowning."Conan, what happened? I thought I heard a bang just now."
Snapped from his thoughts, Conan stammered nervously, "N-nothing, Ran-neechan… I just shut the door too hard. You should get back to bed."
Ran studied him for a moment, then, reassured, nodded. "Alright. You should rest too—we're going with Father to the Beika Museum tomorrow."
Conan pasted on his most obedient smile and bobbed his head. "I understand."
As Ran retreated into her room, Conan turned back toward his door, hesitating before carefully resting his hand on the knob. The earlier incident had left its mark.
This time, however, the door opened only to reveal his ordinary bedroom.
"Phew… it must really have been a hallucination. The drug those men used clearly still has flaws. Tomorrow, once I catch that phantom thief 1412, I'll visit the Professor for another check-up."
He slipped inside, clambered lazily onto his bed, and stretched out upon the mattress.
Within the other space—
"Did… did a child just step out of that wooden door?"
Were it not for the newly appeared doorway in the wall, Eric might have doubted his own sanity once more.
Yang Tao, crouching to collect the [Oak Sapling] and [Apple] that had fallen upon the grassy block, nodded."Indeed, a child emerged just now. Edogawa Conan… I never imagined the main world would link to more than the Backrooms alone. Matters are growing far more intriguing."
Eric stepped forward curiously. "Edogawa Conan? That's the boy's name? It sounds like someone from the Land of the Rising Sun."
"Yes, something of the sort."
Yang Tao planted the sapling in the soil. Fortune, or perhaps misfortune, had seen to it that all the leaves had fallen, leaving him with only two [Oak Saplings].
"Eric, get some rest. I'll call you if anything arises."
The man nodded. He had gone nearly twenty hours without sleep, exhausted from both pursuit and discovery. Were it not for the constant novelty surrounding him, fatigue would have claimed him long ago.
"Then I'll lie down here. Wake me if you need anything."
He chose a spot out of the way and reclined upon the grassy block. Its thin carpet of green felt like a rug, soft and comforting, and with the air always temperate, Eric's eyelids grew heavy. Within moments, he was asleep.
"Snrr… snrr…"
Yang Tao muttered, "…Even in slumber, he snores."
He smirked, then opened his pack. Placing the [Oak Logs] upon the crafting grid, he broke them down into sixteen planks, from which he fashioned a [Crafting Table].
The table was indispensable in Minecraft—the key to tools, armor, food, and even decoration. The 2×2 grid of his inventory existed for little else than to create this very object.
"First, the furnace."
A theory nagged at him, one that begged to be tested. To forge a [Furnace] required cobblestone, and while awaiting the leaves' decay earlier, he had already mined plenty.
He set the [Crafting Table] upon the ground, assembled eight cobblestones into a [Furnace], and placed it beside the table.
Whispering use within his mind, he felt the interface open before him—three slots: input, output, and fuel.
He slid a broken shelf scavenged from Level 1 into the input slot, and the last of his oak planks into the fuel slot.
As the flame icon ignited, Yang Tao nearly leapt with joy."Perfect! It truly smelts real-world iron objects into nuggets and ingots…"
Images of pipes, metal racks, and scattered debris from Level 1 filled his thoughts. This Backrooms realm was proving to be a treasure trove.
Though the shelves smelted slowly, each yielded three [Iron Ingots], enough to silence his complaints.Long live the shelves!
One by one, the metal objects in his pack transmuted into gleaming ingots. Large items gave only ingots, none reduced to nuggets.
When the last plank had burned away, his inventory brimmed with more than twenty ingots.
"Time for an iron pickaxe—and then armor: chestplate, leggings, boots."
As he began the final pair of boots, a thought struck him."Wait—nearly forgot the bucket."
He could endure bare skin, but he could not accept being without a [Bucket].
He forged one from three ingots, then studied the solitary ingot left in his bag. Stroking his chin, he mused,"One left… once the tree grows, I'll craft a shield."
In Minecraft, the [Shield] was the unmatched weapon of single combat.
Donning the [Iron Chestplate] and [Leggings], Yang Tao noticed no change in his outward form, yet he felt an invisible strength envelop his body.
After tidying his belongings, his gaze drifted toward the newly appeared wooden door.
"Shall we see what lies beyond?"