Chapter 130: Watching the Performance
Conan shared his recent thoughts on Focalors with Moroboshi, who gave the boy a strange, appraising look. "I have to say," Moroboshi remarked, his voice a low murmur, "I didn't expect you to come up with something like that."
Conan shot him a sideways glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Moroboshi replied, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "It's just that after spending so much time together, I was under the impression your head was filled with nothing but mysteries and deductions. I didn't realize you had such a delicate side."
"You—" Conan started, his cheeks flushing with indignation.
"In that case, Focalors has it pretty rough. I'm starting to see her in a new light," Moroboshi cut in smoothly, giving Conan no room to retort. "But she's still stuck in her performance as the Hydro Archon and can't hold a proper conversation. Is there any way to get her out of this state?"
Hearing the shift in topic, Conan let his previous annoyance go. He fell into thought for a moment, his brow furrowed. "My mother used to be an actress," he began slowly. "From what I understand, when actors are in front of cameras, they instinctively try to present their best selves. There are no cameras here, but there are three spotlights, and they're all pointed directly at Focalors. I think they might serve the same purpose. She has to perform for the people of Fontaine constantly, so I'm guessing these spotlights represent their gaze."
"So, we need to turn off all three?" Moroboshi proposed, his eyes drifting toward the lights.
Just then, Natsume, having concluded that she couldn't get anything more out of the silent Archon, ended their one-sided conversation and walked over.
Though she had been focused on Focalors, she had overheard the exchange between the detective and the agent. A curious expression bloomed on her face as she looked at Conan. "Conan, your mother was a star? I never would have guessed. Ms. Fumiyo has the same profession as Shinichi's mother. You two really do have a strong connection; no wonder you look so much alike. By the way, is your father a writer, too?"
A cold sweat immediately broke out across Conan's back.
'Oh no, I let it slip!'he thought, his mind racing.'Is Natsume always this sharp? I just mentioned a profession that happens to be the same as Mom's, and she immediately connected it to my identity as a high schooler?''But wait... how does she know Mom's fake name?' He was certain Natsume had never met either of his parents.
"Big Sister Natsume," Conan began, his voice a little tight, "um... how do you know my mother's name?"
He deliberately sidestepped her other question. It was too difficult to answer. If he said his father was also a writer, then his parents would have the exact same professions as the Kudos—that was far too many coincidences to be believable.
But if he said no, what if his father needed to use an alias again and ran into Natsume? If she discovered his father's real profession then, she would know he had lied. Conan had to admit, Natsume was far too perceptive in some ways; he couldn't guarantee she wouldn't notice a discrepancy. Being caught in a lie now would only make him seem more suspicious.
So, he chose to deflect. He was a child, after all. It was perfectly normal for a child's focus to jump from one thing to another.
Natsume found his slightly panicked expression rather amusing.
'Kudo Yukiko was a world-famous actress,'she mused.'How could none of her talent have passed down to her son? He can't control his expressions at all when he's cornered like this.'
It seemed Conan—or rather, Kudo Shinichi—took more after his father. His father was a mystery novelist, and he himself was obsessed with deduction, dreaming of becoming a great detective.
Come to think of it, in the world of Detective Conan, most people's career choices were heavily influenced by their fathers. Kaito Kuroba became the Kaitou Kid because of his father; Miwako Sato became a police officer because of hers... It was a small reflection of a larger social pattern, a kind of hereditary career path.
Natsume sighed internally but didn't dwell on it. Ultimately, those things had nothing to do with her.
She didn't press Conan for an answer. Seeing him change the subject, she played along. "Oh, I heard Ran mention it before. She said Ms. Fumiyo gave you all a large amount of money for living expenses. Could that have been money she saved up from her time as an actress? To earn so much, she must have been very good, right? By the way, Conan, what movies or TV shows has your mother been in? Tell me a few titles. When I have time, I can watch them with Ran and Sonoko."
Faced with this rapid-fire series of questions, Conan's panic intensified. Why was this conversation getting more and more dangerous?
"Um... this... I don't really pay much attention to that stuff usually..."
"You two can save that topic for after we get out of here. Shouldn't we be more focused on clearing the game right now?"
Just as Conan was stumbling over his words, not knowing how to respond, Moroboshi's sharp, impatient voice cut through the air, pulling the topic back to their immediate problem.
Conan let out a silent sigh of relief and shot Moroboshi a grateful look, which was met with another one of the man's strange, unreadable glances.
Natsume let the boy off the hook and returned to the matter at hand. "So, what we need to do now is turn off the spotlights? There are exactly three of us. Let's each take one and move at the same time."
Conan and Moroboshi nodded and sprang into action, running to the spotlights positioned at the edges of the stage.
The two of them searched the heavy metal fixtures up and down, left and right, but couldn't find a switch anywhere.
Just as they were feeling stumped, a loud BANG echoed across the stage, startling them both.
They whipped their heads toward the source of the sound and saw Natsume calmly retracting her leg from a powerful kick.
Apparently, after discovering the lack of a switch, she had simply opted to kick the entire spotlight clear off the stage, forcibly shutting it off.
Though they were momentarily speechless, her direct approach gave Conan and Moroboshi an idea. They couldn't kick the heavy equipment with such force, but fortunately, the spotlights weren't far from the edge. They began to slowly drag the remaining two fixtures to the precipice and shove them over.
Before long, all three spotlights were extinguished, and the stage was plunged back into darkness.
They gathered again at the center of the stage. Natsume tried to speak to Focalors once more, but this time, the woman showed no reaction at all, standing as still as a statue.
Just as they were growing confused, wondering if they had done something wrong, three new lights suddenly flared to life—not on the stage, but in the audience seats below. They illuminated three chairs in the very front row, dead center.
"Is this telling us to go sit over there?" Moroboshi guessed.
"It should be," Conan added, his tone hesitant. "We'll be facing the stage. Maybe it's so we can see Focalors' true self, without the gaze of anyone else on her?"
The three discussed it for a moment, but with no other clues, they decided to follow the silent instruction.
They made their way down from the stage and settled into the designated seats. The moment they were all seated, a disembodied voice suddenly announced in their ears, crisp and clear.
"Act One. In Front of the Mirror, Focalors."
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]