Chapter 178: The Distillery Prepares to Travel Through Space-Time to the Past
Truth be told, Renya Karasuma had long been aware of Gin's competence!
After all, at the end of every month, a single glance at the mission completion rates and the amount of funds turned in by each official member made it crystal clear. Gin was the organization's undisputed #1 top seller, holding an unshakable streak of performance. He was the strongest "King of the Jungle," the Organization's gold-medal Super-Daddy. No matter how embarrassed the Organization's economy became or how far behind its development lagged, as long as Gin took on more missions and worked more overtime, everything was solved.
Gin's only flaw was that his "Wolf Culture" was too ruthless. Forget his subordinates having slightly poor performance; if even a single thing went wrong during the process, he wouldn't hesitate to implement "bottom-rank elimination" on the spot. Aside from his gold-medal lackey Vodka and a few slippery old veterans who had survived in the organization for years, almost no one could last long by his side!
Because of this, Karasuma had been forced to "painfully" station Gin—the Organization's farming Carry—in the Far East, Japan. Meanwhile, the development focus in America was handled by the person the Boss valued most and who acted with more finesse: the Witch of a Thousand Faces, Vermouth.
This wasn't exile; it was a reward for Gin!
Japan's economy was developed, but its "accidental death rate" was world-famous. Any observant person knew what was going on—it was simply that Japan's grassroots law enforcement had a habit of turning a blind eye and didn't want to get involved. Combined with relatively strict civilian weapon control, local criminal syndicates were basically still in the "cold weapon era." Even if they had a few handguns or a bit of automatic weaponry, to an organization like the Distillery, which followed standard American special-ops military style, those local gangs might as well have had nothing at all.
Once the intelligence survey was done, one official member plus a sniper rifle was enough to suppress and annihilate a local Japanese faction. It wasn't like America, where no one knew if a regular car's trunk held an RPG or a Claymore mine, or if a suburban house contained a brat tinkering with nuclear devices or bio-weapons out of pure boredom.
In Japan, Gin faced almost no danger; his operations were basically "dimensional strikes." Light missions, high yields, and zero risk—for an international crime syndicate, this was practically a vacation. This was Karasuma's reward to his top seller.
But Karasuma never expected that Gin, stationed in the Far East, would deliver such a "super surprise." Snapping back to reality, the Boss couldn't help but ponder.
"Is Beika Town the center of the universe? First Magical Girls, then Kaiju and aliens. What on earth is happening over there?"
But soon, Karasuma reached a conclusion:
"Damn you, Shinichi Kudo. Even though your life and death are unknown, are you still making fools of us and the world?"
Karasuma still possessed fragmented residual memories of the world line changes. He clearly remembered the Miraculous Dice capable of shifting reality, and the information that Shinichi Kudo had used it multiple times. Without a doubt, Karasuma felt he had found the answer: Shinichi Kudo did all of this!
Thinking of this, the darkness in the room surged violently. Faintly, a massive black crow with blood-red eyes emerged, flapping its wings as the darkness ebbed like a tide, venting the Boss's boundless rage.
But Karasuma quickly calmed down. If Magical Girls, monsters, and aliens—settings that clearly defied logic—were like Stands, things Shinichi did in the last world line using the Dice, then the situation was still acceptable. The worst-case scenario was that Shinichi wasn't dead, was hiding in the shadows, and had started toy with the world lines again! If that were the case, since Kaiju and aliens had already appeared, Karasuma didn't dare imagine what would come next!
Although Gin—the model worker and top seller—was already tasked with investigating Shinichi's status in Beika, Karasuma considered sending more manpower to assist him. This wasn't an easy decision; the Organization followed an elite "Spec-Ops" route, with few official members. Every member was a vital gear; pulling someone from abroad meant pausing affairs and interests in another region.
As the leader, Karasuma hid behind the scenes, processing massive amounts of intel daily to plan global operations and ensure profitability. As an international criminal force, they seemed terrifying, but their weakness was obvious: without money, who would risk their head for you? Do you really think Renya Karasuma has some "Aura of a Conqueror"?
Maintaining this wasn't easy. The Distillery had massive revenue, but its expenditures were gargantuan. The burn rate of medical research was world-class; throwing billions of dollars down the drain to see if it makes a "ping" required asking God for permission first. Moreover, their medical projects weren't ordinary; the money-burning intensity was peerless!
The trouble was that in the last world line, the Organization had poured massive resources into the siege of Shinichi Kudo. That war had almost sunk the Organization's entire foundation. Though part of the loss was recovered after the world line shift—for example, some code-named members who died were resurrected—the weapons, gear, and ammo didn't come back. The fact remained that the Organization was severely wounded.
In time, they could recover, but when it rains, it pours. Beika's "hospitable" atmosphere was worsening, and the crime rate was breaking through limits, causing the Organization's local assets to devalue rapidly. Furthermore, with Stands spreading globally, the world was in chaos, crime rates were climbing, and the global economy was under pressure. A downward economic cycle was looming, making their surface-level assets precarious.
Karasuma was so worried he was losing hair. Currently, he had to use "underground revenue" to perform blood transfusions for his surface assets just to keep them afloat. Drawing more official members would put pressure on that underground revenue, worsening the overall economic strain.
After much thought, Karasuma sighed and focused on how to reply to Gin. Personally, he didn't want to get involved with aliens. The risk far outweighed the gain. To ordinary people, one can never have enough money, but to those who have controlled vast fortunes, money is just a resource used to trade for other resources.
Sure, collaborating with aliens to turn Nightmare Beika into a global crime sanctuary might increase revenue a thousandfold, making them richer than nations. But what was the point? Could the Distillery wave a stack of cash and buy a country or an aircraft carrier? And at that point, the risks and enemies they would face would be entirely different!
Karasuma's background was not simple; he had an elite education. He had a clear plan for the Organization's purpose. Life wasn't a sprint; it didn't matter who ran the fastest. Survival and longevity were the only keys! Rather than the Organization booming and busting overnight, Karasuma preferred a hundred-year vision, operating the Distillery into a force that lasted for centuries.
If they could survive that long, they'd have plenty of chances to flourish without the stigma of being "human traitors." This wasn't a pipe dream; looking at the world, many old-money powers today were once just thugs with mud on their boots and blood on their hands. If they could make it, why couldn't Karasuma and the Distillery?
Wait... back then, didn't the real Karasuma XX start from scratch in post-war Japan to create the Karasuma Group and the Distillery...?
NO!!!!
Karasuma suddenly realized something was wrong. When he tried to remember, the memories in his mind underwent a blurred mutation. Information as habitual as breathing began to wither and pale, even annihilating into nothingness. Like an invisible hand was erasing everything!
Karasuma couldn't remember who it was that built the Karasuma Group in post-war Japan. What was their name...?
"No, how could I not remember that Lord's name? My name and the Distillery are the responsibilities He gave me. My name is Karasuma... Karasuma-what? Wait... is it really Karasuma...?"
At this moment, Karasuma XX was filled with unparalleled terror! He was losing his own name.
"Damn it, what is happening? Why can't I remember? Who was the founder of the Distillery?! Calm down, you must calm down. Think..."
Karasuma XX took several deep breaths, forcing himself into deep thought:
"Japan after the surrender in WWII... America's Five-Star Emperor suppressed all. Everything was waiting to be rebuilt. Then, that Lord and his partner, BlackBall-mon, set out on a journey. They finally defeated the Tokyo Dojo Master, Hagoromo Gitsune—the King of Curses who ruled the Dark Heian-kyo for a thousand years—in the Kengan Match. He dismembered and sealed the King, then created the Distillery as an Onmyōji Bureau to guard the seal... Wait, what the hell is this?!?!"
Karasuma XX struggled to remember, only to be left in a total stupor by the absurd "memories" in his head!
I'm not a crime boss, I'm the Second Head of a mysterious Sorcery Bureau? I'm tasked with guarding the seal of Hagoromo Gitsune?!
"No... that's completely wrong..."
Though his memories were turning into a circus of madness, Karasuma XX looked down at his phone. The email from Gin asking if the Organization should accept the alien's cooperation was still clearly visible. This email snapped him back to reality.
The Distillery was just a regular international crime syndicate collaborating with aliens. It wasn't some damn Sorcery Bureau, and the founder definitely wasn't a Pokémon Master who beat a King of Curses in a Kengan match.
In that instant, an intuition flashed through Karasuma's mind, and his eyes sharpened:
"Shinichi Kudo... is this your doing? Ah, I see. I understand completely! You evil bastard! After changing the world line with the Miraculous Dice, you traveled back to the past! Now, in the past, you've extended your filthy hands to toy with the world and mock us again, haven't you?!"
To Karasuma XX, it had become a mental habit: if something weird happened, it was Shinichi's fault. Only that Absolute Evil holding the Dice had such power.
"Shinichi Kudo must be stopped. If his evil ambition is realized, the future of the Organization—no, the future of humanity—will face eternal darkness!"
A resolve rose in Karasuma's heart. It didn't come from nowhere; ever since he learned from Gin that the Organization's birth was just because Shinichi Kudo wanted to play a "Detective vs. Criminal" game, a fierce anger had been simmering.
Even if you are our creator, the Organization will not submit! We are not puppets of your dream. Even if you are a God who toys with worlds, please... just die!
Having realized this, Karasuma XX quickly typed a reply to Gin.
In Nightmare Beika, Gin's phone—which inexplicably still had a signal—vibrated silently. Gin stepped out of the car to check it. His face was immediately covered in question marks.
After a while, Vodka walked over and asked, "Big Brother, what did he say?"
Gin frowned. "The BOSS says the truly urgent task now is to find a Time Machine. We must travel back to the past to stop Shinichi Kudo's evil plan to rewrite historical causality. He told me to do this at any cost. If collaborating with aliens helps this mission, then we collaborate. He's leaving everything to me..."
Vodka blinked. "What? The BOSS wants us to find a time machine and go to the past? Big Brother Gin, are you sure he meant us?"
Vodka's bewilderment was beyond words. He felt the BOSS was overestimating them. They were experts in crime, but if they could find a time machine, why would they be working for the Distillery?
Gin remained silent. He likely felt the same; he was capable, but this exceeded the definition of "capable." He wasn't Gin-aemon; where was he supposed to find a time machine? But the Boss's order was absolute. No room for doubt.
Moreover, the name "Shinichi Kudo" touched a nerve. He finally knew where the Shinichi who vanished after the world shift was!
"Hmph. So Shinichi is in the past? Whether we can do it or not, let's move. We'll ask the alien and see if the M78 civilization has the technology..."
In the distance, Ichigo Kurosaki's senses were so sharp he had heard every word of Gin and Vodka's conversation and even "seen" the email. He turned to look at Conan, who was sitting dazed in the car, and felt a sense of awe.
Conan had made a plan, and the wheels of Fate began to turn. Everything was now moving toward those four words: "Time Travel to the Past." Even the Distillery was mobilized.
Ichigo was delighted. If he could learn this destiny-shaping technique and turn it into a fist style, this trip would be worth it. In the future, if he wanted an epic opponent, he'd just beat up Fate until it customized one for him from across time.
Suddenly, the "dazed" Conan spoke:
"The M78 Nebula is highly advanced. Of course they have time-travel tech. Now, take these 'drawn' time machine blueprints to Professor Agasa and commission him to build it..."
Conan emphasized the word "drawn." Ichigo raised an eyebrow and understood. Ichigo wasn't a scientist, and the Soul Society wasn't that advanced. But the important thing wasn't real science—it was having a "blueprint." With that, Agasa would build it.
Because Conan's plan said so, and Fate follows the plan. Science didn't matter; if Fate said you could, then you could even if you couldn't.
Ichigo nodded and smiled at the approaching Gin and Vodka.
Thousands of miles away on that Pacific island, despite giving Gin his orders, Karasuma XX could not find peace. In his memory, any task given to Gin never failed—except for that one war against Shinichi.
Now, wagering the Organization's power for a second time against the boy, Karasuma was restless. Driven by this unease, he made a decision that violated "ancestral rules." He decided to go to the front lines personally to command the second siege of Shinichi Kudo.
Karasuma stood up in the darkness and turned to leave.
In that instant, he froze.
He realized that this secret base... did not have an exit door.
Karasuma XX stared for a long time. He surveyed the base: the walls were a seamless monolith. Aside from vents and outlets, there was nothing. The layout was spartan: a plain desk, an old computer, a few screens, a phone charger, and a chair. That was it. There wasn't even a lightbulb in the room!
"This place is the Distillery headquarters? This is the base where I, the BOSS, rule the world? This place is just... a cage, isn't it?"
Looking around his cage, more doubts flooded his mind. There wasn't even a bed. How did he rest?
Wait... have I ever slept?
He tried to find a memory of sleeping. He found nothing. A massive sense of the absurd rose in his heart.
In this moment, Karasuma XX asked himself one question:
Have I... ever been outside?
The answer was vividly clear!
End of Chapter
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