Chapter 69: The Lucky Audience Member
Kaeya turned his head, his gaze softening as it landed on the little girl sitting beside him. Dressed in her signature red dress and matching beret, Klee leaned forward in her seat, her large eyes sparkling with absolute wonder as she watched the magic show unfold on stage.
Kaeya smiled, his voice dropping into a comforting, melodic cadence. "It's fine. Klee is being very well-behaved. Besides, I was the one who promised to accompany her to the show first." His visible eye shifted, the warmth instantly bleeding out to leave a sharp, calculating gleam as he glanced at the blonde man on his other side. "In comparison, you guys who suddenly insisted on conducting a trade here are the uninvited guests."
Klee's pointy ears twitched. She spun around in her seat, her fluffy backpack swaying. "Big Brother Kaeya, what were you just talking about? Is there anything Klee can help with?"
Kaeya's sharp edge vanished in a heartbeat. He reached out, gently patting her beret. "It's nothing, Klee. Just focus on the show. If Big Brother Kaeya needs help, I'll be sure to let you know."
Klee beamed, swinging her legs. "Mhm! Then it's a promise~"
"Yes, it's a promise," Kaeya assured her, his tone perfectly light.
Sitting to Kaeya's left, Toru Amuro watched this exchange with deeply conflicted emotions. To be perfectly honest, he hadn't expected this. The man beside him—an underworld contact who had casually joined an unknown syndicate to broker a high-stakes trade with the Black Organization—did not look like a good person. Yet, here he was, displaying a side that completely contradicted his dangerous aura.
Kaeya's tone, his micro-expressions, the gentle patience in his eye when he spoke to Klee—it was the textbook definition of a doting older brother. Did that innocent little girl have any idea that her beloved big brother was currently up to his neck in illicit, lethal business?
Kaeya completely ignored Bourbon's internal turmoil. Seeing that Klee was thoroughly captivated by the stage lights once more, he leaned slightly to his left. His voice dropped to a barely audible murmur, meant only for the operative. "Alright, enough nonsense. While everyone around us is focused on the magic show, hand over the USB drive with the data. I'll give you the case with the remaining potions."
Toru Amuro's jaw tightened. He was incredibly reluctant to comply, but he lacked any reasonable excuse to stall. Moving with practiced subtlety, he slipped his hand into his jacket, retrieved the encrypted USB drive, and passed it to Kaeya under the cover of the dim theater lighting.
It was a massive pity. He had finally come into close contact with such critical Organization data, yet he couldn't even attempt to make a copy. And it was entirely the fault of the man sitting on his other side. The guy had been watching him like a hawk, leaving absolutely zero breathing room to shake him off.
Toru Amuro cast a covert glance at the silver-haired researcher sitting to his right, codenamed Bordeaux. Supposedly, this man had specifically requested to speak with the suppliers of the mysterious potions, which was the only reason the Organization had arranged for him to tag along on this field assignment.
Initially, Amuro had assumed that shaking off a mere lab rat to transmit some data to the Public Security Bureau would be child's play. He was dead wrong. No matter what clever excuse Amuro fabricated during their journey here—a trip to the restroom, a sudden need for a vending machine drink—Bordeaux had shadowed him flawlessly. The researcher always managed to locate him within seconds. Amuro seriously doubted if Bordeaux was truly just a non-combatant researcher, given those terrifyingly sharp tracking instincts. To avoid blowing his cover as Bourbon, Amuro had been forced to abandon the espionage opportunity entirely.
And speaking of Bordeaux's supposed objective... hadn't the man claimed he wanted to interrogate the trading partner? Why had he been staring blankly at the stage since they sat down, not uttering a single syllable? He hadn't even spared Kaeya a passing glance. Anyone observing them would assume they were complete strangers.
What Toru Amuro didn't know, however, was that Alhaitham found Bourbon to be an equally massive headache. While Alhaitham had successfully blocked the blonde spy from copying the USB, Bourbon's constant proximity also made it impossible for Alhaitham to slip his own data drive to Kaeya. Their original plan was stalled. It seemed he had no choice but to initiate Plan B.
Kaeya accepted the small metal drive, his thumb brushing over its casing. He figured that since the boss of the Black Organization was so desperate for these specific potions, they wouldn't dare use fabricated data to cheat him. Slipping the drive smoothly into his inner breast pocket, Kaeya nudged the sleek silver briefcase by his boots toward Bourbon.
Toru Amuro pulled the case closer, unlatched it with a soft click, and quickly verified the contents. Rows of neatly secured vials gleamed in the faint light. Once the count was confirmed, he snapped it shut.
"Then the trade is considered complete," Amuro murmured.
He then turned his attention to Alhaitham, raising a challenging eyebrow. "Bordeaux, didn't you say you wanted to speak with Mr. Kaeya? Why have you been watching the performance without saying a word?"
Alhaitham didn't even turn his head. His eyes remained fixed on the stage as he replied in a cool, perfectly level tone. "I originally assumed that someone capable of producing such extraordinary potions would possess at least a foundational understanding of their chemical properties. But after observing him in person, I realize I was overthinking the matter. He is clearly nothing more than a glorified delivery boy. There is no value in speaking to him."
Hearing Alhaitham's deadpan insult, Kaeya's knuckles popped as he subtly clenched his fists. He maintained his smooth smile, though a vein threatened to throb at his temple. "I am truly sorry for lacking any value for communication."
Seriously, Kaeya thought, his smile straining. Reading Alhaitham's blunt messages through their internal system was irritating enough, but hearing that arrogant, matter-of-fact tone in person made the urge to punch him almost overwhelming.
Before the tension could escalate, the theater lights dimmed further, signaling the final performance of the day—the highly anticipated Box Swap.
The charismatic Magician on stage announced that this grand finale required the participation of a lucky audience member. A glamorous assistant wheeled out a transparent lottery box filled with ticket stubs, and the Magician reached inside to draw a seat number on the spot.
Suspenseful drumrolls echoed through the speakers, building to a crescendo before abruptly cutting off. The lucky number was called. A brilliant white spotlight swept across the dark theater, cutting through the gloom to land directly on their row.
Toru Amuro snapped his head to the side, his eyes widening in disbelief.
The lucky audience member bathed in the blinding spotlight was none other than Alhaitham.
Amuro found this incredibly hard to swallow. Weren't the random audience members in these elaborate magic shows usually planted actors? Could this actually be a legitimate, coincidental draw?
The thought that these two might actually know each other never even crossed Amuro's mind. After all, one was a world-renowned Magician hailing from France, and the other was a secretive, high-level researcher for the Black Organization. There was absolutely no logical intersection between their lives.
Down in the very first row, the extreme angle and distance had made it impossible to clearly see the faces of the people sitting further back. It wasn't until Alhaitham stood up and began walking down the aisle toward the stage that Ai Haibara finally got a clear look at the lucky volunteer's face.
The color drained from her cheeks instantly. She ducked her head, her small fingers clamping down on Conan Edogawa's wrist like a vice. A violent shudder wracked her small frame, the familiar, suffocating terror of the Organization gripping her lungs.
Conan flinched at the sudden, painful grip. He immediately noticed Haibara's extreme reaction and his mind raced. The Organization! Someone from the Organization is here!
He scanned the room. The only person who had suddenly stepped into the light was the silver-haired man walking onto the stage.
Conan's eyes locked onto the figure, his sharp gaze etching every detail of the man's face, posture, and clothing into his memory. He leaned closer to Haibara, keeping his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Who is he? Do you know him?"
By now, Haibara was already forcing her breathing to steady. The paralyzing fear was receding faster than usual. Perhaps it was because this man had only joined the Organization recently, or perhaps it was because he lacked the suffocating, blood-soaked aura of an executioner like Gin. Whatever the reason, she wasn't nearly as terrified as she had been during the bus hijacking incident.
Swallowing hard, she answered Conan's whispered interrogation. "He joined the Organization shortly before I defected. Like me, he's a researcher. I... I'm not sure why he's here. Maybe he just came to watch the magic show?" Haibara's mouth twitched into a stiff, unconvincing smile as she tried to feign a casual tone.
Hearing her confirmation, the previous boredom that had clouded Conan's face vanished entirely. His posture straightened, his eyes burning with intense determination as he tracked the man on stage. Finally, a solid lead. He prayed he could extract some clues from this encounter.
Up on the brightly lit stage, the Magician guided Alhaitham into an ornate, upright cabinet in the center of the platform. The heavy wooden door was shut, locking the researcher inside. According to the trick's premise, the volunteer would magically teleport into an identical box positioned in the middle of the audience seating.
The dramatic music swelled and then stopped with a sharp cymbal crash. The Magician's assistant rushed down the steps, dramatically throwing open the door of the audience-level box.
Empty.
A ripple of confused murmurs swept through the crowd. Had the trick failed?
Sensing the shifting mood, the Magician on stage offered a theatrical bow and swiftly yanked open the door of the original cabinet on stage.
Empty as well. The silver-haired audience member had vanished into thin air.
Thunderous applause erupted from the crowd, marveling at the flawless double-disappearance. But Conan Edogawa's eyes were wide with shock and frustration. How is this possible?! He had finally caught sight of an Organization member, only for the man to literally vanish before his eyes!
Conan whipped his head around, desperately scanning the dense sea of clapping spectators to find the seat the man had originally occupied. But the theater was packed, the lighting was terrible, and he hadn't paid enough attention earlier to pinpoint the exact row. The trail was already cold.
Meanwhile, safely hidden in the concealed compartments beneath the stage, Alhaitham smoothly pressed the encrypted USB drive into Lyney's waiting, gloved hand. The handoff complete, he quietly handled the backstage corridors, slipping back into his seat just as the final curtain fell.
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