Chapter 75: Home Remedies for Colds
Natsukawa was genuinely afraid the stew might actually be toxic, and those two little brats couldn't handle it the way Conan could.
Conan was different—he was someone who couldn't even be killed by APTX-4869. Eating Yor's cooking shouldn't cause any permanent problems, right? At the very least, he had the protagonist's plot armor protecting him. Those two supporting characters were a different story entirely. Background characters definitely weren't as resilient as protagonists—they might actually die.
Wait—he suddenly remembered something important.
Yesterday, he'd confidently declared that he would personally try Yor's cooking himself.
Uh... he should probably wait a bit longer on that.
Let Conan, the guinea pig, help me dodge this bullet first.
Anya's Discharge
By evening, Anya had returned to her normal self. Apart from being in a decidedly foul mood, there were no other major problems.
As for her mood, who could possibly be cheerful after suffering food poisoning? Natsukawa didn't particularly care about that aspect.
Dr. Ogawa also came to the ward to inform them that Anya could be discharged.
Meanwhile, Frank had also gathered information about Dr. Ogawa's situation.
According to Frank's intelligence report, Dr. Ogawa had been receiving mysterious packages for the past two years.
Once a month, like clockwork, each package contained a large quantity of toys and 500,000 yen in cash.
This phenomenon was quite well-known throughout Beika General Hospital. Everyone speculated it was a thank-you gift from one of Dr. Ogawa's former patients or their grateful families.
However, Dr. Ogawa himself was deeply troubled by it. He hadn't spent a single yen of the money, and investigating the sender's address had revealed both the name and address were completely fabricated.
Today marked the final delivery date, but this time the package was drastically different.
This time, there were no toys—only money.
Twenty-five million yen.
This amount, whether in this era or any other, was absolutely not a trivial sum.
So this is that case.
Natsukawa vaguely remembered the details now. Basically, a patient's family member was seeking revenge against Dr. Ogawa for allegedly "killing" their son, and they were planning to murder Dr. Ogawa's own son in retaliation.
The money being sent was intended as blood money—a twisted form of advance payment for the doctor's impending loss.
It was truly a tragic story all around.
According to Frank's thorough investigation, Dr. Ogawa's medical ethics were exemplary. He certainly wasn't a heartless doctor, and the accusation of causing someone's death had been investigated by the hospital and found completely baseless.
Dr. Ogawa had only handled one case involving a child's death, and that child had already been critically injured and near death when brought to the emergency room. It wasn't the doctor's fault for failing to save the child—it was simply a matter of doing everything medically possible but ultimately failing against impossible odds.
If failing to save a terminally injured child qualified as murder, then the entire medical profession would be far too terrifying to exist.
"Thank you so much for everything, Dr. Ogawa," Natsukawa said sincerely. He paused thoughtfully before continuing, "You seem troubled by something. Is it related to what happened this morning with that package?"
Dr. Ogawa's expression was clearly problematic, and Natsukawa's question came across as genuine concern from a grateful patient's family—such a positive doctor-patient relationship wasn't particularly surprising.
Dr. Ogawa sighed heavily, shook his head, but didn't answer directly.
"If Dr. Ogawa has any concerns, or needs someone to investigate certain incidents, you could visit Beika-cho 5-chome to find Mr. Kogoro Mouri. He's my neighbor—a true breath of fresh air in the detective world. He's the only detective in all of Japan who solves cases while completely asleep. I'm sure you've heard of the Sleeping Kogoro, right?"
"Isn't that just media hype and exaggeration?"
Natsukawa shook his head with complete confidence. "Of course not. Inspector Megure of the Metropolitan Police Department's First Division can personally guarantee his abilities."
Dr. Ogawa naturally didn't know who Inspector Megure was, but since Natsukawa spoke with such absolute confidence, consulting this detective didn't seem like a bad idea at all.
"The Sleeping Detective, Kogoro Mouri?" Dr. Ogawa murmured thoughtfully, his furrowed brow slowly relaxing. Finding a detective to investigate was indeed an excellent option.
The amount sent this time was outrageous—a full 25 million yen. It was far too suspicious to handle alone.
He didn't recall ever treating any wealthy young heirs or children from prominent families.
Even if he had, there was absolutely no need to use such an anonymous, secretive method. It simply didn't make any logical sense.
The Commission
News that Natsukawa had secured a lucrative business deal for Kogoro Mouri quickly reached the detective's ears.
Dr. Ogawa arrived at the Mouri Detective Agency immediately after finishing his shift that evening.
"I didn't expect this at all! It turns out this was a referral from my new neighbor!"
Mouri Kogoro greeted Dr. Ogawa with a hearty, booming laugh, feeling considerable goodwill toward Natsukawa for the introduction.
"Yes, Mr. Natsukawa speaks very highly of your abilities, and I felt that only you could solve this mysterious problem. Please accept this commission fee!"
Dr. Ogawa extracted an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it over formally. Mouri Kogoro didn't stand on ceremony—he accepted it immediately and opened it right there to verify the contents.
One million yen!
Goodness! The jobs Natsukawa referred to him were consistently excellent quality.
At least substantially better than his usual commissions of ten or twenty thousand yen for routine cases.
Moreover, compared to investigating marital infidelity or finding lost pets, this type of mysterious investigation far better showcased the sophistication and deductive prowess of a master detective.
Although he didn't know the specific details yet, given that it was introduced by Natsukawa and the commission was so substantial, it definitely wasn't about locating a missing cat, lost dog, or cheating spouse.
"Dad!"
Ran frowned and called out to her father disapprovingly. Opening the commission envelope in front of the client to immediately check the amount was far too impolite and unprofessional. At the very least, he should wait until after the client departed.
"It's quite alright, Miss Mouri," Dr. Ogawa said diplomatically. "Mr. Natsukawa mentioned that Mr. Mouri is a highly qualified detective—decisive and refreshingly unpretentious in his approach to cases."
Of course, these weren't actually Natsukawa's exact words. He didn't have time for such elaborate flattery. Dr. Ogawa was simply trying to smooth over the awkward moment for Kogoro Mouri.
"Hehehe, I didn't expect that kid Natsukawa understood me so thoroughly!" Kogoro Mouri placed the commission envelope on the table, his expression becoming considerably more serious and professional. "That's absolutely correct—I really am exactly that kind of straightforward detective."
He leaned back confidently. "And there's something else that kid Natsukawa didn't mention. My professional investigative skills are exceptionally advanced, my observational abilities are extraordinarily meticulous, and I frequently discover crucial clues that others completely overlook. Hiring me to investigate this case was unquestionably the best decision you could have made."
Ugh...
Conan's internal monologue screamed in protest: Please! It's all thanks to ME! Uncle Mouri is clearly just taking credit for my work, yet he has the audacity to say such things with a straight face!
That's right—Conan had finally completed his mother's torturous shopping ordeal and been sent back to the agency.
Yusaku Kudo had wanted him to leave Japan entirely for safety reasons, but Conan had adamantly refused. After experiencing last night's terrifying gunfight firsthand, his heart was still pounding with adrenaline, and his hatred for the Black Organization had intensified exponentially. He was now more determined than ever to uncover the complete truth.
He would uproot this entire criminal organization, and he would personally avenge both his own forced transformation and his father's injuries!
"Achoo!"
"Conan, are you alright? Here, drink some hot water."
"Okay, Ran-neechan. Thank you."
Conan's eyes darted around the room, clearly searching for something specific.
"Stop looking right now. Dad already finished all the liquor, so don't even think about it."
Ran, hands planted firmly on her hips, immediately understood exactly what Conan was scheming.
This troublesome little boy—Conan's craving for alcohol clearly hasn't diminished one bit.
That absolutely wouldn't do.
Conan's mother had entrusted him to their care so solemnly this afternoon, even providing them with considerable lodging expenses. They couldn't possibly let her down.
The Folk Remedy
"Well then, I'll entrust this matter entirely to Detective Mouri."
Half an hour later, Dr. Ogawa departed from the agency under the watchful gazes of all three residents.
"Hey, Uncle Mouri, Conan, Ran-neechan—what are you three doing just standing there in the doorway?"
Natsukawa appeared, wearing thick heat-resistant gloves and carefully carrying a steaming earthenware pot that radiated ominous heat waves.
Conan turned his head, but the massive bottom of the pot completely obscured Natsukawa's face from his low vantage point.
Damn this child's body and its terrible height! I absolutely hate it!
Fortunately, he possessed perfect pitch for identifying voices, so recognition was effortless. It was definitely Uncle Natsukawa.
"Uncle Natsukawa, what's that thing you're carrying?"
Intense curiosity prompted Conan to speak up, his finely-tuned detective's sixth sense screaming that whatever was in that pot was extremely unusual—possibly even dangerous.
Kogoro Mouri and Ran also looked on with considerable interest and confusion.
"I heard Conan caught a cold, so I prepared a special medicinal stew," Natsukawa explained casually. "It's a traditional folk remedy for colds from back home. I've heard it's remarkably effective at treating respiratory infections."
"Really?"
Ran leaned forward curiously to smell it, but Natsukawa immediately dodged away from her. "Absolutely not! According to the traditions from my homeland, only underage boys can safely consume this remedy. Girls can't even smell it without risking terrible consequences."
Natsukawa's voice dropped mysteriously, half his face shrouded in dramatic shadow. "I've heard that girls who steal even a whiff will be cursed to dream of being transformed into sake bottles by Shuten-dōji himself."
Ran's face immediately paled with fear, her initial curiosity instantly extinguished by the terrifying image of the legendary oni.
"Hey, hey, hey! Ran-neechan, there's absolutely no way Shuten-dōji actually exists in this world! Uncle Natsukawa is obviously just teasing you. Am I right, Uncle Natsukawa?"
Conan was absolutely exasperated.
Please! Natsukawa clearly isn't even Japanese originally. Even if it's a legend from his supposed homeland, the dream curse shouldn't specifically involve Shuten-dōji of all creatures. Nightmares, demons, sleep paralysis entities—it couldn't possibly be the specifically Japanese Shuten-dōji. After all, folklore and superstitions vary dramatically from country to country, and this explanation is ridiculously far-fetched.
And what's with the oddly specific detail about being transformed into sake bottles? Why not just say "turned into alcohol" or something more general?
Natsukawa remained deliberately noncommittal, maintaining his mysterious expression without confirming or denying anything.
"Natsukawa-nii, don't scare me like that!" Ran protested, recovering from her initial shock. She felt slightly embarrassed and indignant, realizing she'd probably been fooled by Natsukawa-nii's teasing. Still, she maintained a cautious "better safe than sorry" attitude, keeping a respectful distance from that ominous pot.
Kogoro Mouri didn't particularly care what Natsukawa was holding. He only knew that his neighbor had brought him another exceptionally lucrative case today, and he laughed boisterously while declaring he and Natsukawa "absolutely must drink three hundred cups together to celebrate properly!"
"Dad! Absolutely no drinking tonight!"
"Hahaha, but I'm so happy! Natsukawa introduced me to such substantial business! If I don't treat Natsukawa to a proper meal with drinks, my conscience simply won't allow me to rest peacefully!"
Kogoro Mouri's intelligence when manufacturing excuses for drinking was truly world-class. He could fabricate any justification imaginable, possessing literally a million different reasons to drink every single day of the year.
(End of Chapter 75)
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