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"There's a saying among anime fans: never compare combat power with gag characters."
"All Green Grassland cards. They actually look pretty decent."
"But what am I supposed to do with them? There's no explanation of abilities or how to use them."
Staring at the screen, Steven became more convinced that this system was messing with him.
If you didn't understand the rules, exchanging cards was pointless.
[Ding! After exchanging a card, the host will gain part of the character's abilities. After fusion, they can be used directly with no side effects.]
[Ding! The shop only opens for one day after each new achievement is unlocked. You may choose to exchange or not. Achievement points will not be cleared when the shop closes.]
"So you really are playing dead unless I ask, huh?"
In Steven's memory, systems in novels always explained everything upfront.
The junk system he got stuck with…
Forget it. Not worth ranting about.
"Smart Goat is the cheapest. He's the protagonist of Green Grassland, and the system still treats him like this. That's cold."
"Five cards. Which one should I pick?"
He stroked his chin, scenes from the cartoons flashing through his mind.
Trying to outsmart a detective world with pure intellect was just asking to get crushed. Smart Goat was out.
Lazy Goat looked harmless and useless in a fight, but his luck was absolutely broken. He was the textbook example of coasting through life.
Still, compared to luck, raw strength felt more reliable.
After all, you had to be solid yourself. Beika City was a death trap, and on top of that there were the Kanto and Kansai twin Reapers who could kill people just by existing.
What if your luck got countered? Wouldn't that be game over?
As for Buff Goat, his combat power was undeniably high, but his highlight moments were limited.
Besides, there were plenty of absurdly strong characters in the Detective Conan world.
The scariest was Makoto Kyogoku.
Punching apart millstone-sized marble pillars.Kicking down over fifty thugs.Dodging rifle bullets at close range.And in the movies, he basically went Super Saiyan.
"No contest. Not even close."
Steven's gaze landed on the final option.
Red Wolf's combat power was unclear, but her frying-pan skills were god-tier. She could casually send Big Big Wolf flying with one swing.
That kind of potential was rare.
After weighing everything, Steven made his decision.
"As Principal Wang once said, the only certainty about expensive things is that they're expensive."
"You get what you pay for. I'm going with the Big Big Wolf card."
Given his current situation, he couldn't afford to hesitate.
He'd just blown up the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department building. That was basically rubbing the entire police system's face into the ground.
To save face, the higher-ups might not publicize the truth, but behind the scenes they'd definitely be running a full-scale manhunt. Possibly with a shoot-on-sight order.
Only by getting stronger could he stand a chance against the entire police apparatus of the country.
And once the shop closed, it wouldn't reopen until he unlocked another achievement. No one could guarantee he'd still be alive by then.
Right now, survival came first.
"Exchange."
Steven selected the Big Big Wolf card and spent all five of his freshly earned achievement points.
In his eyes, Big Big Wolf was the strongest being in all of Green Grassland.
A genius inventor.An expert sheep-catcher.
Sure, he lost at the end of every episode, but if you looked closely, it was always plot armor doing him in.
After all, the censors would never allow him to wipe out Sheep Village.
Otherwise, even ten Green Grasslands wouldn't survive his rampage.
[Ding! Big Big Wolf card exchange successful. Begin fusion?]
"Yes!"
Crack. Crunch.
As the fusion began, Steven heard the sound of bones breaking, as if some invisible force was shattering and rebuilding his body.
The pain was unbearable.
"Ahhh!"
"Damn it, you shady system! You tricked me again!"
Steven roared as darkness swallowed his vision.
While he was unconscious, his body continued to change.
The beer belly he'd developed from years of drinking vanished, replaced by clearly defined eight-pack abs. His limbs and muscles thickened, becoming visibly stronger.
What should be thick got thicker. What should be long got longer.
His clothes were stretched to the brink of tearing, his entire body radiating raw power.
…
Beika Town, inside a music bar.
Under the spotlight, the band played a slow, winding melody. A singer waited behind the curtain, half-hidden, ready to step onto the stage at any moment.
"Did you see that guy who just went back in? Smiling like an idiot. He has no idea today's his last day alive."
Vodka glanced at the business card on the table, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the trash.
Ordering his men to clean up afterward was nothing special. Gin didn't spare it a thought, cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared at the stage.
"Boss, boss…"
"You're watching that singer who's about to come on, right? Her voice is always intoxicating. Don't you think?"
"And she's a real looker too. So this is your type, huh, Boss?"
Vodka had clearly had a few too many and actually dared to tease Gin.
Luckily for him, his loyalty was beyond question. Otherwise, that single line would've earned him a bullet.
Just then, a waiter set two drinks in front of Gin.
"Bitter martinis. Compliments of the singer on stage."
"Well then," Vodka said with a grin, lifting his glass, "guess we should give her some face."
He was about to down it in one go—
Pshh.
The burning tip of a cigarette touched the surface of the drink, sending up a thin curl of smoke.
"What do you think you're doing?"
As he stopped Vodka, Gin's cold gaze locked onto the waiter, who hadn't left yet.
"I'm asking you what your real goal is. Don't tell me you don't understand."
The waiter froze for a split second.
Gin grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head onto the table, then yanked an ice pick from the bucket and drove it down without hesitation.
Fast. Brutal. No mercy at all.
The organization's top workhorse never wasted time.
Vodka flinched, shrinking back with his glass in hand, completely lost.
Crack!
The ice pick pierced straight through a layer of fake skin and pinned it to the table. The "waiter" shed the disguise at the last moment, barely escaping death, revealing her true face.
Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Flaming red lips.
A refined, bookish face with a hint of wildness underneath, the kind that stirred a man's urge to conquer.
"Vermouth."
Gin's expression didn't change as he released the ice pick.
"I'm just kidding!" Vermouth laughed lightly."Relax, don't look so scary. You're terrifying when you're serious, you know."
"I just noticed someone drooling over that singer and thought I'd tease you a bit."
As she spoke, she casually tied up her loose hair with a band.
"But honestly, is it really okay? A big star like you squeezing in here with us. What if someone sees?"
Vodka finally snapped out of it and offered a well-meaning reminder.
"Don't worry," Vermouth said lazily. "Everyone else's eyes are glued to the singer who's about to go on."
"Besides, could I really afford not to come? While you two were busy enjoying yourselves, you probably missed some big news."
"The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department headquarters was bombed. Dozens of officers were killed or injured."
Vodka's jaw dropped.
Even Gin, usually unshakable, raised an eyebrow.
"....."