Chapter 117: Water Dragon, Water Dragon, Don't Cry
Conan felt a flicker of deflation as Natsume voiced his exact thoughts, but he still gave a firm nod of agreement.
The ensuing conversation between Vacher and the creature of pure water confirmed their deductions. It was only then that the full, horrifying truth came to light. All the victims who had been dissolved, their physical forms dissipating into nothingness, had their consciousnesses returned to the Primordial Seawater. There, adrift in the vast, ancient ocean, their minds did not disperse. Instead, they circulated, mingled, and eventually merged into a single, collective being.
Vacher's obsessive experiments, which had claimed the lives of so many young women, had continuously fed this collective consciousness. With each new victim, the entity in the Primordial Sea grew, and in doing so, the original Vigneire was diluted, overwritten, and ultimately lost. In a tragic, twisted sense, Vacher himself had personally orchestrated the true and final disappearance of the woman he sought to save.
A soft, mournful sound escaped Ran Mouri. "How could this happen...?" she murmured, her expression clouded with sorrow.
Noticing her distress, Conan moved to her side, his small hand gently taking hers in a silent offer of comfort.
The exchange between the Oceanid and the disgraced chemist was not yet over.
Even after learning the truth, a part of Vacher refused to accept it. His desperation clawed at him, and he still yearned to see Vigneire one last time. He could only turn his pleas back to the shimmering water spirit before him.
The Oceanid flatly refused. "When I told you not to seek me out," the voice echoed, a composite of countless whispers, "that was Vigneire's true will. She hates you. She never wanted to see you again. That warning... it was also her last shred of pity for you."
A chilling shift occurred in the entity's tone. "Because she knew... if you came here, 'we'... would never let you go."
The words struck Conan like a physical blow. Something was terribly wrong. The Oceanid intended to harm Vacher. He instinctively lunged forward, determined to intervene, but Natsume had anticipated his move. Her hand shot out, her grip firm around his arm, halting him in his tracks.
"Sister Natsume, what are you doing?! Vacher's in danger! I have to save him!" Conan pleaded, struggling against her hold. But no matter how much he writhed, her grip remained as unyielding as steel.
Natsume let out a weary sigh. "That thing isn't human, Conan," she said, her voice low and steady. "Do you have any idea what kind of power it has? What good would a little boy rushing in do? Besides," she added, her gaze fixed on the unfolding scene, "she—they—are the victims. If the victims want to seek justice from their perpetrator, it's better for outsiders like us not to interfere. Be good."
Conan's shoulders slumped. Being spoken to like a child stung, but he knew she was right. He couldn't break free, so he could only hang his head in frustration.
Across the ethereal space, his fears were realized. A chorus of different female voices began to call out, each one repeating the same name.
"Vacher..."
"Vacher..."
With each utterance, the color drained from Vacher's face, his expression twisting from disbelief into raw terror. Finally, as one, the voices of all the victimized maidens shrieked a single, damning word.
"Die!"
Vacher let out a bloodcurdling scream—a sound of pure, soul-shattering agony—before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Before the final, horrifying moment, Natsume and Ran had already moved to block the Detective Boys' line of sight. The psychic assault was a ghastly thing to witness, and not something children needed to see.
But Conan, ever the pint-sized shinigami, was completely unfazed. The instant Natsume released his arm, his feet had barely touched the ground before he was sprinting toward Vacher's crumpled form. He knelt, pressing two fingers to the man's neck. A pulse, faint but steady. He was just unconscious.
At that moment, a familiar wave of dizziness washed over the group. When their senses cleared, they found themselves standing back beside the Fountain of Lucine, the morning sun glinting off its placid surface.
Natsume and Ran quickly checked on everyone. Aside from Vacher, who remained comatose, the children were all in good spirits—if anything, they were buzzing with restless energy.
They found a way to contact the Gardes, relaying the clues and evidence they had gathered and handing over the prime suspect. They asked the officers to monitor Vacher's condition and to notify them immediately if there was any change.
It was still early, so Natsume and Ran led the children away from the fountain. The group began to discuss their next steps: investigating the prophecy, the Hydro Archon, and the Chief Justice. They all agreed that Monsieur Neuvillette must be connected to the prophecy; besides the Hydro Archon herself, he was the only person in all of Fontaine known to have lived for so long. As they strategized, they awaited the Gardes' report.
After some time, the news they received was grim. The Gardes reported that Monsieur Vacher's soul seemed to have been... taken. He was now almost entirely unresponsive, effectively rendering him unable to stand trial or testify.
A wave of frustration washed over the group. They had finally found the culprit behind the serial disappearances, a man who had even promised to hand over his criminal evidence, only for him to fall into a vegetative state at the final hurdle.
Seeing their dispirited faces, Natsume spoke up, her voice a beacon of resolve. "It's too early to be disappointed. We still have one day left. Tomorrow is the final showdown in court, so we still have time. Now that we've found the culprit, we can search his residence. He was experimenting with the water of the Primordial Sea; perhaps we can find something related to the prophecy there."
She swept her gaze over them, her expression firm. "As long as the game isn't over, we haven't reached a dead end. Doing nothing is the only sure way to lose all hope."
Her words worked like a charm. The Detective Boys immediately perked up, their earlier enthusiasm returning. The older detectives with them also straightened, their spirits renewed.
Just as they were about to set off, Natsume felt a sudden coolness on her cheek. She glanced up. Droplets of rain were beginning to fall from the sky.
The drizzle wasn't heavy yet. To save time, they decided to buy a few umbrellas and press on to Vacher's house to search for clues. As they hurried through the streets, a group of children ran past them, paying no mind to the light rain. They were laughing and playing, occasionally shouting up at the gray sky.
"Water Dragon, Water Dragon, don't cry..."
Conan's sharp ears caught the phrase, but in their rush, he didn't stop to ask the children about it.
They managed to collect some evidence from Vacher's house, but it wasn't much. The documents they found were primarily related to his experiments with the Primordial Seawater, with very little mention of the grander prophecy.
This time, however, no one was too discouraged. After a moment of thought, Ran suggested, "Why don't we go back to Callas's grave? We should at least find his daughter and tell her what's happened with Marcel."
No one objected. The group once again braved the rain, making their way toward the cemetery in Poisson. Fortunately, being inside a game simulation meant that despite being caught in the downpour for a while, none of them felt any real discomfort.
Poisson wasn't far, and they soon arrived at the cemetery gates.
To their immense surprise, they found they were not alone. Standing before Callas's grave was not only his daughter, Navia, but also the imposing figure of the Chief Justice, Neuvillette. He stood with his head bowed, a silent mourner before the stone.
Sensing their approach, Neuvillette turned. He recognized Natsume and the others, offering a slight, formal nod. "Greetings, travelers from afar."
At the sound of his voice, Navia looked over as well. A small, welcoming smile touched her lips as she waved them over.
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