Chapter 175: Monologue of the Sinner, Shinichi Kudo
Ichigo Kurosaki had already glimpsed a portion of the truth by peering into the past. However, the difference in perspective meant he lacked a personal, visceral connection to those events. It was only upon reading the first page of the diary that the reality of it struck him with overwhelming force.
The early entries were written in neat, meticulous script—a reflection of Shinichi Kudo's original character. But as the pages turned, the handwriting grew increasingly scrawled and erratic. By the time the string of "WRONG" appeared, the penmanship had become frantic.
Shinichi Kudo, imprisoned within the body of Edogawa Conan, where everything he saw, heard, and felt was a lie, had likely sensed the truth long ago. Yet his resilient reason had forced him to subconsciously ignore those sensations, as they lacked "evidence."
By the time Kogoro Mouri died, the handwriting had progressed from frantic to a state of total collapse. Though Shinichi tried his best to remain objective and record useful information, his script betrayed his true feelings: breakdown, agony, regret—a tapestry of negative emotions that ultimately solidified into despair.
When Shinichi used his habitual "There is only one truth" catchphrase to narrate his deductions, the lines were saturated with a despair that could not be washed away.
Ichigo understood. By the time Shinichi realized what was happening, things were already beyond salvation. To look back and find that the culprit was himself... that is not something anyone can easily endure. If he were a cold-blooded, sociopathic villain, it might have been different. But Shinichi was a protagonist—one born on the side of justice and kindness. This wasn't just a "setback"; it was a fatal blow to his psyche and personality.
Ichigo reckoned that if the versions of himself from other worlds—those who hadn't walked the Path of Purity—encountered this, they would have gone completely insane the moment they learned the truth.
But Shinichi Kudo didn't go mad. Or rather, he used his immense rationality and willpower to suppress the despair. Because he was the protagonist. This didn't refer to a divinely granted status, but to the fact that, knowing the truth, he could not stand by and watch. He wanted to save and atone, even if it was too late. As long as a sliver of hope remained, he would never give up.
Since his senses were illusions, Shinichi used "Deduction" as his only weapon to launch an assault. Think, think constantly! Use reason and knowledge to screen, to deduce, to fight! It was the struggle of a trapped beast, a desperate final stand.
A protagonist's battle is meant to lead toward victory. Eventually, through deduction, Shinichi managed to bypass the cage of hallucinations. Like a computer translating human input, he used "Deduction" as a translator to rebuild a model of reality.
But victory did not mean the end. Waiting for Shinichi Kudo was the abyss of Truth. The reality was far more horrifying than he had anticipated. Yet there was no turning back. Even if the path led into a void, he had to move forward.
The last line on the first page was written in a hand that couldn't even be described as "collapsed" or "despairing." it was pure chaos—a reflection of his mind at the moment. But the strokes were forceful, nearly tearing through the paper, engraving his unyielding resolve into the ink.
Conan held the diary that belonged to him, his hands trembling slightly. His expression was calm—or rather, he was exerting every ounce of effort to remain still. He branded the information into his mind, analyzing and feeling every word.
He did not intend to flee from his sins and karma. No matter how much despair and pain lay hidden within, he would shoulder it.
This effort exhausted all of Conan's energy, and even then, he wasn't entirely successful. His trembling hands were one thing, but the bulging veins on his forehead and his increasingly ragged breath revealed the strain. The reason in his eyes was beginning to waver dangerously.
Conan didn't even hear Ichigo's question; he was submerged in his own world. Seeing this, Ichigo's spherical body writhed, extending a muscular arm. He clenched his fist and delivered a sharp knock to Conan's head.
"That's enough, kid. Snap out of it. If you keep focusing like that, your mind is going to break!"
The Bleach world wasn't a world of immortal cultivation, and it didn't focus much on mental clarity. But as a War-God of Purity, Ichigo's "spirit-cleansing and demon-suppressing" punch was highly effective. The despair and pain about to burst from Conan's mind were instantly dispersed by the powerful fist-force. Accompanied by a spray of blood from Conan's nose and mouth, his mental threshold was hammered back into place.
Conan collapsed onto the ground, his short legs kicking once or twice before he went still.
After a long time, he crawled back up and said in a muffled voice:
"While my reason tells me I should thank you for the emergency help... I'd be more grateful if you were a bit gentler. This world's style is mystery and detectives. I'm a detective protagonist, not a martial arts gag character. I can't take your 'Killing Fists'..."
Ichigo chuckled. "Don't worry about the small stuff. Are you okay now?"
Conan took a deep breath. "I'm fine. The contents are roughly what I deduced, but the details are worse than I feared. The first page alone records nearly four million cases. I can't imagine how long that took..."
Conan couldn't calculate the time. How many cases happen in a day? There's no set rule. Maybe several a day, maybe one every few days? And how long does a case last? Some take hours; some take days.
Ichigo provided an answer: "Don't overthink it. My intuition tells me those four million cases lasted much longer than you think. Maybe one case, for this world, is the equivalent of one true 'day'?"
Ichigo glanced at the Stand Arrow in Conan's arms—the artificial timeline. The "Time" inside was terrifyingly long.
Conan tried to laugh, but it was heavy. "One case equals one day? That fits this world's definition. Roughly calculated, four million cases would be about ten thousand years."
Ten thousand years—the world's definition of time. How much that translated to for the living beings inside was anyone's guess. Ten times longer? A hundred? No one could say. And that was just the first page.
Long, endless eons—the beginning of an eternal calamity. No one was spared.
Conan continued his subconscious deduction. With the diary as a guide, his reasoning was smoother and more precise. During the endless time of those four million cases, everyone had been forced to accompany the terrifying entity known as "Edogawa Conan," performing a never-ending mystery play in Beika. They couldn't flee or refuse; if Conan wanted them, he would find them and drag them into the drama.
In such a state, the people closest to him were the first to break. Whether it was the "Ai" he didn't yet know or Ran Mouri who went first didn't matter. They all collapsed and went mad.
Conan felt his reason wavering again. This time, without waiting for Ichigo, he pulled out a knife and pointed it at his own throat. But since Ichigo had hammered his head into his chest, he couldn't reach his neck. He stabbed himself in the heart instead. Watching the blood spurt out, his sanity returned slightly.
"Conan... you aren't a gag character, but you're getting dangerously close to the line," Ichigo noted. He watched Conan pull a fruit knife out of thin air and stab himself in the heart, only to stay "vibrant." As Conan got closer to the truth, his protagonist-power was returning. The Eternal True God was manifesting.
"Fine, I admit it," Conan said. "A guy who can't die from being beaten, stabbed, or shot does have a talent for comedy. Maybe I should change my name. Not 'Great Detective Shinichi Kudo,' but 'Calamity Evil-God Shinichi Kudo'."
He had gambled with that stab, but the result wasn't funny. His body had stopped "pretending." It was a silent message: Go ahead, stab away. I'll bleed to give the Laws some face, but you won't die.
Rationality told Conan that further attempts at suicide were meaningless. If he could die, he would have been dead long ago.
Conan picked up the diary and turned to the second page. Ichigo leaned in again.
[I must deduce. I can only deduce. I must find the truth...]
[I found something terrible. Imprisoned in Conan's body, my perception of time does not match the outside world. I can't count how much time my thinking consumes...]
[The puzzle is easy. The answer was there all along. My sense of 'Time' has been wrong and missing from the start. This is bad. It means four million cases represent a span much longer than I thought. After so much time, is there anything left for me to do?]
[Something worse happened. 'Edogawa Conan' has left Beika. He is appearing all over the world. More cases. Damn it, why can't I remember the time? How long has it been since Uncle Mouri died?!?!]
[I am touching the truth. It is worse than I thought. Everyone is mad to some degree, and I am the culprit. Beika is a demon's den, churning out cases solely to provide the Evil God 'Edogawa Conan' with an endless detective play...]
[The dissonance in my hallucinations is growing. Are those 'smiles' on their faces? I can't tell. If they are smiles, why are they so despairing?]
[Anyone else can despair, but not you, Shinichi Kudo. Move! Deduce! Find the truth, and then... do something!]
[I hate and curse my own reason. It won't even give me the mercy of self-deception. Today, I saw Dad and Mom. According to the hallucinations, today is the release of the VR game 'Cocoon.' Dad wrote the script. I, Ai, Ran, and the Professor were invited to the premiere...]
[Never have I wished more for my senses to be real. For it to just be a premiere. but my wretched reason tells me: every 'smile' they give me is hidden hatred. Every 'gentle' gaze is a murderous curse. Everyone at this premiere, including my parents, wants to... KILL ME!]
[Thank you, reason. It filters out unnecessary emotion, letting me make the logical choice. If I can die here, it would be a blessing for everyone. So, everyone, please... kill me!]
[What is their plan? Where is the trap? When is the attack? How can I cooperate? Shinichi Kudo, you can do it. You can reach the ending where everyone else is safe and you are the only one dead...]
[Why won't I die? Why? Why? WHY...?]
[Dad's script was brilliant. Sadly, the ghost buried in Baker Street wasn't me. In the end, the hallucination played out as AI malfunction. 'Cocoon' exploded. Many died. Including my parents...]
[It is so absurd. I am the killer. I killed them all. Me. Is there no one to bring me to justice? Someone kill me...]
[I think I broke. But reason pulled me back. It doesn't matter. Since I've built a perception of reality through deduction, my next task is clear. Through the sacrifice of my parents, I know dying isn't easy. I must deduce the 'Conditions for the Death of Shinichi Kudo'...]
[His death conditions are harder to find than expected. Not enough info. I need time. Ridiculously, I have too much time. So much that everyone is suffering...]
[The Detectives arrived. Many I only knew by reputation. They gathered today, laughing. Are they discussing how to kill me? I am among them, laughing happily. Come on... as fellow detectives, you can do it...]
[Shit detectives. Trash. I'm wounded. I'm bleeding. But I'm still alive! I'm perfectly fine! Why are you all dead? How can you die? Get up! You can't stop until you kill the sinner Shinichi Kudo!!!]
[I was wrong. This is more horrifying than I thought. I didn't want them to die. They stood back up, smiling, saying it was just a play. But through deduction, I know how gruesome they look. I caught a glimpse behind the hallucination: a detective holding his own bloody head, talking to me...]
[I understand now. It's not just me. Dying isn't easy for them either. But luckily, their death conditions are much simpler than mine...]
[I couldn't watch them live in such a pathetic state. I forced the unfinished stories to continue. The detectives died and found peace. If I had to name this act, 'Requiem for the Detectives' fits...]
[Perhaps before I reach the 'Reality of Death,' I should let everyone else go first...]
[If, in my hallucinations, I am the source of all evil, then the Gin who hunts me must be a righteous hero, right? Can he kill me?]
[I saw Gin again. I tried something. He is different. His attacks weakened my hallucinations. I am waking up. But is that good news? I can't deduce what horror I'll see when I finally open my eyes for real...]
[After the detectives died, I was invited to many events. I realize these are 'Movies,' distinct from regular cases...]
[Time passed. Many came. I hoped they would end me. When they couldn't, I ended them...]
[Time passed. Many died. One after another...]
[That guy Kyogoku hits hard. Unlike others, his attacks work. I am 'wounded' heavily. Even the world knows it; cases have decreased. Good news? No. Just another innocent gone before me...]
[I saw Sonoko. She was crying, babbling about another heartbreak and why she can't find a good man. I know it's a hallucination...]
[I felt her despair. I heard her craving. I began to see a corner of the real world...]
[Is this really Sonoko? Or a ghost tortured by despair until she shattered?]
[I killed her with my own hands...]
[The despairing detective killed the despairing victim, putting a non-despairing period on a despairing case. No more detectives. Rest in peace, Sonoko...]
[How much time? I don't know. I stopped deducing the date. I stopped solving cases. Yet the world stays the same?]
[How many have I killed? I forgot...]
[Kill, kill, kill... As a detective, I am trapped in an abyss of sin. As a criminal, I can set everyone free. How pathetic...]
[Am I in despair? My reason says yes. The closer I get to the truth, the deeper the despair. Does the truth even matter anymore?]
[An immortal Evil God playing with the world. Knowing that, what can I do?]
[No, there is hope. That man Gin. I believe he will never give up on killing Shinichi Kudo. Hope exists. Gin, I'm waiting for you...]
[How much time passed? I don't know. But I feel something. I remember the past. The cherry blossoms at Teitan High. I hear the bells of the school anniversary...]
[I see. Today is a good day. Fate tells me today is a good day... to die!]
[The Teitan High Anniversary Ball. I saw everyone after so long. Ran in her red dress. Ai in her princess dress. So many people. They were laughing, surrounding me, inviting me to dance...]
[I don't care about the illusions. I don't want to deduce. Despair won't change. The ball started. Everyone danced so well...]
[Ran's dancing was unexpectedly good. How long did she hone it for today?]
[Ai's voice was beautiful, though the song was too sad...]
[Vodka joined in. That huge body dancing was surprisingly funny. Will I see Gin dance later? If so, I should thank the hallucination for a funny image...]
[The Professor's performance was novel and fun...]
[Everyone performed so hard. It was brilliant. I sang, I danced, I marveled...]
[Come! In this Final Ball of All Mankind, wager everything! Kill Edogawa Conan! Kill Shinichi Kudo!]
[At the peak of the performance... I finally woke up!!!]
Conan kept flipping the pages, but when he reached this point, he discovered that after Shinichi woke up... the diary simply ended.
End of Chapter
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