Conan's Mistake
The Black Organization's Tier 3 surveillance nodes were designed to be unremarkable—small, empty apartments or commercial fronts used to monitor specific targets. One such node was a tiny, unused security office overlooking the Baker Street shopping arcade, a place Conan Edogawa (Shinichi Kudo) often frequented with Ran.
Conan's fatal flaw, Kaito knew, was his insatiable curiosity.
During an outing with the Detective Boys, Conan noticed an anomaly: A light flickering rhythmically in the window of the abandoned office. It was a pattern, not a short circuit. He slipped away, his detective instinct overriding caution, and used his tie to force the lock.
Inside, he found a room full of advanced, high-security communications equipment and a series of photographs—including recent, clear images of Ran Mouri.
The Cerberus Alarm
In the Azure Blend command center, the Tier 3 node immediately went silent—a classic self-destruct trigger.
"Tier 3, Node Delta-5, just flatlined!" Masato, the cryptographer, shouted. "It wasn't external intervention; it was a physical breach."
Kaito stared at the map. "Location: Baker Street Arcade. That means... Conan is compromised."
Kazuya, the profiler, spoke with urgency. "The Node's self-destruct protocol will alert Tier 2. That means Gin will be deployed immediately to assess and neutralize the breach."
Kaito acted instantly. "Shiori, full blackout on that block's external cameras. Kazuya, use the General's authority to initiate a fake police response—a bomb scare drill—to clear the streets."
"The Hound," Kaito spoke into the direct, secured comms line. "Captain Wick. Code Black. Immediate extraction of the asset from Node Delta-5. Gin is en route. Neutralize the threat by any means necessary, but the asset must be unharmed."
Gin vs. Wick
John Wick and his three-man tactical unit, operating in civilian clothes but armed with specialized, non-lethal (but utterly debilitating) suppressed weaponry, were already closing on the arcade.
Wick approached the building from the alley, silent as a ghost. He saw the subtle glint of long, silver hair from the rooftop opposite. Gin had arrived.
Gin was an absolute killer—a strategic murderer who loved the theater of pain. He carried a customized Beretta and possessed a chilling confidence. He moved with a snake's speed, his objective absolute: ensure the node was truly clean.
Gin dropped from the roof, landing soundlessly on the fire escape above the office. He didn't check the door; he simply kicked through the window with brutal force.
He saw the small boy, Conan, frozen inside, staring at the surveillance photos.
Gin smiled, a cold, predatory sight. "Well, well. It seems the rat is still breathing."
As Gin raised his Beretta, the sound of a suppressed, high-velocity round whizzed past his ear, hitting the wall with the force of a hammer.
Wick stood at the breach door, two suppressed pistols held in a perfect cross-fire position. His eyes, normally detached, were focused with lethal intensity. He was not there to talk.
"You're late, Gin," Wick stated, his voice a low, gravelly monotone, devoid of emotion.
Gin paused, recognizing the man's posture and the impossible accuracy of the warning shot. "Baba Yaga. I thought the Dragon Throne learned not to play games with us."
"This isn't a game," Wick replied. "It's an extraction."
The fight was over in seconds. Gin, the master of theatrical gunplay, was used to opponents who hesitated. Wick, the master of tactical lethality, never hesitated.
As Gin emptied his clip toward Wick's position, Wick's hands moved in a blur. He didn't try to dodge the bullets; he used the brief flash of the muzzle to calculate Gin's next two steps.
Two specialized, non-lethal rounds hit Gin: one in the shoulder joint, rendering the arm useless; the second in the knee joint, dropping him instantly. The effects were instantaneous paralysis and excruciating, but non-fatal, localized pain.
Wick moved past the immobilized Gin with contemptuous efficiency, scooped up the terrified Conan, and exited through the back exit, all within the sixty-second window Kaito had given him.
The Hound's team, meanwhile, placed a small, pre-set thermal detonator on the floor near Gin.
"A parting gift," Wick murmured to the paralyzed killer.
The Aftermath
Conan was quickly deposited at the entrance of a deserted side street, his memory of the silent, brutal fight already blurring with shock. He found himself running back toward Ran, convinced he had just had a terrifying, impossible nightmare.
Seconds later, the Tier 3 node office exploded in a controlled flash fire, destroying all evidence, including the remnants of the surveillance gear and Gin's incapacitated form.
In the Azure Blend, Kaito watched the reports. "Gin is neutralized and removed from the board for at least a week, and the asset is secured."
"But Gin knows the Organization has a highly trained enemy operating in Tokyo now," Shiori noted, her relief mixed with caution.
Kaito nodded, watching the smoke clear over the arcade on the live feed. "Good. Let them hunt. It means they'll reveal more of their hierarchy. The Serpent has been struck, and the General has officially entered the field."