Chapter 96: Port Standoff
Aether had finally broken his silence a few days ago. His message was brief, instructing her to attend the upcoming Halloween party and to disguise herself so thoroughly that not even a shadow of her usual self remained. He warned that Gin might dispatch eyes to the event to monitor the situation, and it was hardly the right time for the ruthless executive to learn too much. He offered little else in the way of explanation. That sheer lack of detail almost caused the anger Natsume had finally managed to suppress to flare up all over again.
Fortunately, her brother possessed just enough sense this time to provide a secure contact method, ensuring they wouldn't completely lose touch again. If he had vanished into the wind like last time... well, she would have made him regret it. This lingering irritation was exactly why Natsume currently found herself sitting inside the Mouri Detective Agency. Despite her annoyance, she ultimately decided not to make things too difficult for him. She would play along, follow his instructions, and attend the ridiculous Halloween party.
"Natsume, what are you spacing out for? Look! How is the makeup I did for you? Super cute, right?"
Sonoko's bright voice broke through her thoughts. The wealthy heiress held up a hand mirror, her eyes sparkling with expectation as she waited for a verdict.
Natsume blinked, focusing on her reflection. She was almost completely unrecognizable. Her usually bright hair was temporarily dyed a deep, inky black. Striking red eyeshadow swept outward to mimic the sharp, playful features of a demon, perfectly complementing the crimson contact lenses resting over her irises. A dusting of pink blush softened the look, while a sleek eye patch covered one side of her face, adding an air of mystery. It was a flawless blend of mischievous and adorable.
A genuine smile tugged at her lips. She raised a hand and gave Sonoko a firm thumbs up.
Sonoko beamed, puffing out her chest with pride at the silent praise. Mission accomplished, she immediately spun around to her own vanity station, eagerly preparing her little witch costume.
Seeing her friend so engrossed in her work, Natsume decided not to interrupt. She picked up her phone, tilted her head to find the perfect lighting, and snapped a few selfies. After swiping through the gallery and agonizing over the best angle, she hit send, firing the chosen picture off to the new number Aether had provided.
Out of the corner of her eye, Natsume noticed Ran slowly lowering her phone. The call had ended, but the usual warmth in the girl's expression was entirely absent.
"Ran, are you really not going to the party?" Natsume asked, keeping her tone light.
"Hmm..." Ran offered a distracted hum. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders slumping slightly. "There is... something I need to confirm."
In her mind's eye, Mouri Ran saw the hidden photographs again. The secret stash of pictures featuring Haibara Ai and Conan, hidden behind the bathroom mirror at Jodie-sensei's apartment. A cold knot of unease tightened in her chest.
Miles away, inside the quiet laboratory of Dr. Agasa's house, Conan Edogawa stood perfectly still. He stared down at the elegant invitation the Professor had handed him earlier. His eyes locked onto the opening line.
Dear Conan Edogawa.
His jaw tightened. The sender knew. They knew exactly who he was.
Ignoring Haibara's frantic, desperate objections echoing behind him, Conan flipped open the cover of his wristwatch. He didn't hesitate. He aimed the tranquilizer dart and fired.
Haibara gasped, her eyes rolling back as her knees buckled. Conan caught her before she hit the floor, easing her down gently.
"Sorry, Haibara," he murmured, his voice heavy with resolve. "If I don't act now, I'll never make any progress."
The hours bled away, giving way to the chilling evening of the Halloween party.
Ai Haibara sat alone in the quiet expanse of Dr. Agasa's living room. The silence was broken by the sharp ring of the telephone. It was Dr. Araide. His voice was smooth, expressing deep concern over her lingering cold, insisting he pick her up and take her to a well-equipped hospital for a thorough examination.
She agreed, but before she could fully process the arrangement, a sharp knock echoed from the front door.
Haibara approached cautiously and pulled the door open. It wasn't Dr. Araide standing on the porch. It was Jodie-sensei.
Haibara's blood ran cold. Panic seized her features, and she shoved her weight against the heavy wood, desperately trying to slam it shut. But Jodie was ready. The English teacher planted her foot against the frame, easily pushing the door wide open. A few sharp, calculated words were all it took to break the girl's resistance, successfully luring Ai Haibara out of the house and into the passenger seat of her car.
Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was suffocating. Haibara completely ignored Jodie's cheerful attempts at comforting conversation. She sat rigid, her eyes glued to the side mirror, watching the headlights of Dr. Araide's car trailing relentlessly behind them. Her mind raced, piecing together the terrifying reality of the situation.
The two cars sped through the darkened streets, eventually turning into the desolate, industrial expanse of the shipping port. The smell of salt and rusted metal hung heavy in the air.
Suddenly, Jodie slammed on the brakes and whipped the steering wheel hard. The tires shrieked against the asphalt as the car spun around, headlights blazing directly into the path of Dr. Araide's approaching vehicle. The standoff had begun.
Hidden deep within the shadows of a towering stack of shipping containers, Cointreau leaned casually against the corrugated metal. He was fully disguised as Morikawa Shiro once again, his hands tucked into his pockets as he listened to the confrontation echoing across the empty docks.
He stifled a yawn. The back-and-forth between Jodie and Vermouth was playing out exactly as expected. It was only when Jodie loudly confirmed that Sharon Vineyard and Chris Vineyard—the legendary mother and daughter—were actually the exact same person that Cointreau's eyelids fluttered upward. A spark of genuine interest finally cut through his boredom.
Everything was proceeding according to Vermouth's grand design. High above the docks, perched on a crane, Calvados pulled the trigger. The sharp crack of the sniper rifle tore through the night, and Jodie collapsed, clutching her bleeding abdomen.
Cointreau remained perfectly still in the shadows. There was no need to reveal himself yet.
Vermouth stepped forward, her gun leveled at the wounded FBI agent, ready to send Jodie to reunite with the family she had slaughtered years ago. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
Thwack!
A soccer ball materialized from the darkness, hurtling through the air with terrifying velocity. It slammed directly into Vermouth's wrist. The impact sent her handgun clattering across the concrete, spinning far out of reach.
The passenger door of Jodie's car clicked open. Ai Haibara stepped out into the harsh glare of the headlights. Vermouth stared, her eyes widening in shock as the little girl reached up and dug her fingers into her own jawline. With a sharp pull, she tore the latex mask away.
Standing in the light was not the traitorous scientist. It was Conan Edogawa—the boy who was supposed to be miles away at the Halloween party.
Watching from the darkness, Cointreau let out a long, silent sigh.
He had guessed Vermouth's flawless plan would hit a wall. When he first offered to assist her tonight, she had been incredibly resistant, guarding her secrets like a dragon hoarding gold. If he hadn't casually dropped the hint that Shuichi Akai might make an appearance, that stubborn woman would never have agreed to let him tag along in disguise.
A faint smirk touched Cointreau's lips. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of schadenfreude. She was completely rattled just by seeing one little detective. If his instincts were correct, there was another unexpected guest currently suffocating inside the trunk of Jodie's car. If that person turned out to be Mouri Ran, this was going to be a spectacular show.
Out on the docks, Conan raised his wrist, aiming the tranquilizer sight directly at Vermouth's chest.
Cointreau decided he had watched enough from the sidelines. He pushed off the shipping container, his footsteps echoing softly against the pavement as he strolled out of the shadows.
"Hello, Little Brother. We meet again," Morikawa Shiro called out, a pleasant, easy smile resting on his face.
Conan whipped his head around, his eyes stretching wide behind his glasses. "It's you! The man from the Twilight Mansion!"
Shock paralyzed the young detective. He never imagined he would cross paths with this man here, in the middle of a Black Organization crossfire. The memory hit him like a physical blow—the exact same way this Morikawa Shiro had materialized out of thin air during the tragedy at the Twilight Mansion.
Had the Organization already noticed him back then? Was this man watching him the entire time?
Conan's momentary distraction was all Vermouth needed. She lunged forward, her hand snapping out to grab Conan's wrist. With a vicious twist, she forced the watch inward and pressed the button. The tranquilizer needle shot directly into Conan's own arm.
The boy's eyes rolled back, the fight instantly draining from his limbs. Before he could hit the concrete, Vermouth caught him, lowering his small body to the ground with surprising gentleness.
"So careful with this boy?" Morikawa Shiro asked, his smile deepening as he noted her protective grip.
Vermouth slowly straightened up, her cold eyes locking onto him. "I thought you already knew."
Morikawa Shiro glanced over at Jodie, noting that the bleeding FBI agent was still conscious, though barely holding on. He kept his words deliberately vague. "If you are referring to why you care so much about him... I do know. This boy rarely makes a serious effort to hide his brilliance. As long as someone notices his abnormalities and digs just a little beneath the surface, the truth is quite easy to guess."
He took a slow step closer, his tone shifting into something far more dangerous. "But when I actually confirmed it... to be honest, even I was startled. I never expected Sherry's research to have reached such a miraculous stage." He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming. "If the Boss were to find out about this little miracle, he would be in grave danger, wouldn't he?"
"But you won't tell the Boss, will you?" Vermouth replied smoothly, entirely unfazed by the implicit threat hanging in Cointreau's words. After all, by discovering this secret and keeping it hidden, they were now bound together as reluctant allies. She narrowed her eyes. "I know you have been contacting certain people in Europe recently. What exactly are you planning?"
Morikawa Shiro ignored the question entirely, offering one of his own. "It seems your grand plan has failed. Sherry hasn't appeared tonight, has she?"
Vermouth held a highly unique position within the Organization. Her past in the United States meant she left a trail that certain hounds simply couldn't ignore forever. Cointreau had known from the start that this operation would attract unwanted attention, and he had never planned to avoid it. He needed her alive and indebted to him. There were certain matters in the near future where her unique talents would be absolutely necessary.
That was the real reason he had come tonight. Vermouth could not be allowed to fall here.
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