Chapter 25
Outmaneuvered, Amuro Tooru just smiled.
“It’s a detective’s hand,” he said, simply opening his palm and letting the girl explore it with her inquisitive fingers.
Fan An spread her five fingers and placed them over the blond young man’s palm to compare their size.
She lost. She pouted, sulkily retracting her hand, but not forgetting to deliberately scratch the ticklish part of Amuro’s palm with her nail at the last moment.
As expected, his fingers curled unnaturally. The dark-haired girl’s mischief had succeeded, and she was instantly happy again.
A mischievous cat, Amuro thought, the ticklish sensation lingering in his palm.
Though the cat was mischievous, she wasn’t cunning. She could be easily lured into someone’s home with food. Her attitude when talking about marksmanship was also very frank, with nothing to hide.
Amuro thought that he had probably been working with Gin for too long and had caught his paranoia.
Director Kawamura was well-connected. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to hire a police academy graduate as a firearms instructor for his actors. The marksmanship that gave Furuya Rei a strong sense of déjà vu didn’t necessarily mean anything.
He should be focusing his investigation on the new Scotch Whisky.
An’an, an honest girl who answered any question she was asked. Could she possibly be involved in some pure-hate black-moonlight body-double literature?
Impossible!
Suspect An had already been wrongfully arrested by the police so many times. It was pitiful enough. How could an undercover Public Security officer falsely accuse her?
Fan An met a pair of apologetic, purple-gray eyes and slowly formed a question mark.
The bad guy who just tickled someone’s palm was me, right? Not only is he not holding me accountable, but he’s actually thinking of apologizing to me? Mr. Amuro, are you being manipulated by someone?
He was too handsome and kind-hearted!
Fan An felt truly lucky to be neighbors with such a good person as Mr. Amuro. In comparison, Mentor Scotch was so unfortunate, having to be colleagues with people like Silver-Haired Model Bro and Twisted Deep-Closet Bro.
She and Hiromitsu had been in constant contact. Occasionally, she would hear Scotch complain about the terrible work environment: “The plan is going smoothly, and Gin isn’t suspicious, but being stared at with the condemning eyes of someone looking at a copycat is making my skin crawl…”
Mentor Scotch’s masterpiece, “My Life as a Body Double in the Distillery,” was currently being serialized.
If Amuro had taken the initiative to ask about Fan An’s reading list, all his questions would have been answered.
Unfortunately, he didn’t. Bourbon had missed out on a fortune.
Fan An had a wonderful free lunch at her kind neighbor’s house and was also invited to taste the new dessert that Café Poirot was about to launch, happily eating and taking some to go.
Although her life after coming to Beika Town had been a bit tumultuous, a bit bloody, and a bit full of things she couldn’t complain about, Fan An loved her new life.
“Father and Mother in heaven, and my dear aunt back home, do you see? I’m a mature adult who can live independently now.”
As Fan An cleaned the dripping refrigerator, she looked up at the clouds. She thought she could see her parents smiling and waving at her from the clouds, lovingly watching their reliable daughter, who was covered in blood.
The girl was bustling around in the kitchen. The black plastic bag on the floor was bulging into the shape of a human head, the opening tied tight, its weight heavy.
The garbage sorting rules in Beika Town were too complicated. Fan An had studied them for a long time but still couldn’t figure them out. Fortunately, this famous City of Crime had its own unique consideration, allowing citizens to dispose of bloody garbage by dumping it like a body.
“It’s almost clean,” she said, wiping her sweat and taking out her phone. “The ‘Beika Resident’s Guide to Cleaning’ says you can’t check for bloodstains with the naked eye. It recommends spraying luminol… I’ll give it a try.”
Fan An took out the luminol she had bought at the convenience store—yes, this was a daily necessity in Beika—and sprayed it all over the kitchen.
After a moment, she stared at the blinding, flashing blue fluorescence on the floor, walls, and ceiling, and fell into deep thought.
“I probably bought an expired, counterfeit product,” Fan An said, nonchalantly tossing the empty luminol bottle, ignoring the fresh date printed on it.
Knock, knock, knock.
It was the second time Fan An’s door had been knocked on today. She went to open it, puzzled. Did Mr. Amuro cook too much again?
With his skills, he could totally set up a food stall. In front of Teitan High School would be a good spot. High foot traffic, and high school students are at an age where they can eat a family out of house and home. It would definitely be a big hit.
Fan An had heard that the famous high school detective, Kudo Shinichi, had been absent from Teitan High for a long time. The homicide rate at the school had plummeted. Amuro probably wouldn’t have to worry about a few people suddenly dropping dead while he was running his stall.
That is, provided Fan An wasn’t helping him. Otherwise, even if she just passed by, the probability of students getting food poisoning would skyrocket.
Suspect An: Innocent.jpg
The apartment door opened. It wasn’t Amuro standing outside.
It was another person, someone Fan An was more familiar with, closer to.
“Cousin Hanzawa?” Fan An was extremely surprised. “Did you come to see me?”
Black hair, black eyes, a black aura, a man as pitch-black from head to toe as Black Zetsu—there was no mistake, it was her long-unseen Cousin Hanzawa!
“I’ve missed you so much, Cousin,” Fan An said happily, quickly making way. “Come in, come in! Look at my new apartment.”
Seeing his cousin An’an so full of life, Mr. Hanzawa was very relieved.
As expected of Cousin An’an. She’s easily adapted to life in Beika Town. She even dares to rent a place by herself. So brave.
Unable to afford a clean property and too scared to live in a stigmatized one alone, Mr. Hanzawa had chosen to get a roommate. He had once suggested that Cousin An’an do the same, but unfortunately, her roommate journey had not been smooth.
“A total of three roommates died. Roommates are not for me,” Fan An sighed, getting her cousin a pair of slippers. “It’s better to live alone. It’s more convenient.”
Mr. Hanzawa bent down to change his shoes. He happened to look up and was blinded by the flashing blue light in the kitchen.
“What is that?” he was shocked. “Did you install a disco ball in your kitchen?”
“It’s the luminol reaction,” Fan An said, waving her hand dismissively.
She picked up the head-shaped black garbage bag and said, “Cousin, you sit for a while. I’m going to the popular body-dumping spot near the apartment.”
“I hope there’s still a spot,” the girl muttered. She glanced at the drop of blood sliding down the garbage bag and grimaced. “Annoying. I have to mop the floor again.”
Mr. Hanzawa: “…”
Mr. Hanzawa: “AAAAAAAH!”
Cousin An’an! I know you’ve adapted to Beika quickly, but this is too fast!
Don’t go native in this kind of place!
Fan An looked blankly at her cousin, who was screaming like a high school girl who had just seen a flying cockroach.
It’s just kitchen scraps. What’s the big deal?
Mr. Amuro next door never said anything. He even reminded me to bleed the chickens and ducks before putting them in the freezer next time.
Mr. Hanzawa swallowed hard, trying not to look at the flashing kitchen. He didn’t want to know what Cousin An’an had been doing in there at all.
Cousin An’an… she hasn’t changed a bit.
Mr. Hanzawa recalled his childhood, being chased around the streets of their hometown by the dark-haired girl with a knife. Their An’an had been like this since she was a child, her original intentions unchanged by the glitz and glamour of the big city.
For a moment, Mr. Hanzawa felt a little ashamed. In Beika, just maintaining his vital signs had consumed all his energy. He had been forced to put his original goal on hold again and again, and his progress was still at zero.
Unlike Cousin An’an, who had just wanted to make a living in the big city and prove she was an independent adult, Mr. Hanzawa had come to Beika with a purpose.
He must achieve his dream—to kill that man!
This hatred had been brewing for a long time. Mr. Hanzawa’s father, who was also Fan An’s uncle, was currently serving a sentence in prison.
The person who had exposed Mr. Hanzawa’s father’s crimes was none other than the famous high school detective of Beika Town, Kudo Shinichi.
Mr. Hanzawa held a grudge. He had worked hard to save money and finally bought a one-way ticket to Beika Town.
That man was in this city. Mr. Hanzawa would find him and kill him.
Theoretically, finding Kudo Shinichi wasn’t difficult.
His parents were a famous mystery novelist and a famous actress. The Kudo residence, like the Mouri Detective Agency, was listed as one of the top ten tourist attractions in Beika, highly recommended by tour guides.
But Mr. Hanzawa hadn’t been able to find any trace of Kudo Shinichi at the Kudo residence. He had only met a pink-haired, squinty-eyed young man selling his homemade beef and potato stew at the gate.
(T/N: A reference to Subaru Okiya, who is Akai Shuichi in disguise.)
The Kudo family had fallen so far as to rent out their facade to a food vendor. Mr. Hanzawa had returned empty-handed.
After repeated failures, Mr. Hanzawa had realized that there was no future in going it alone in this city. He had to develop his connections, build a vast intelligence network. He refused to believe that he would never be able to find Kudo Shinichi in his lifetime!
Fortunately, Mr. Hanzawa had many relatives.
“Cousin An’an, you’ve been in Beika for some time now. I came today to invite you to a family dinner.”
How could Mr. Hanzawa forget Cousin An’an when it came to family matters? She was the first celebrity in their family to be in the newspapers! She had brought glory to their ancestors!
Fan An took the invitation from her cousin. It stated the time, place, and host of the family dinner—her distant second uncle, Mr. Fan Ren.
Speaking of which, it was Second Uncle Fan Ren who had recommended An’an to audition for the female lead in Broken-Winged Angel: The Devilish Young Master’s Fierce Love, setting her on the path of an actress.
This was a mentor-level elder. She had to give him face.
Fan An had specially called her second uncle. Mr. Fan Ren had also strongly invited her. “It’s not easy for our family to get together. It just so happens that a batch of people have been released from prison recently, so we were able to fill a table.”
Mr. Fan Ren sighed with emotion. “These are good times. In the past, we had to squeeze into the detention center for our New Year’s Eve dinner… Don’t worry, it’s my treat. I’ll make sure everyone has a good time.”
On the day of the family dinner, Fan An specially wore her hometown’s traditional attire. She stood in front of the mirror and twirled. The pure black skirt swirled like a wave.
Her choice was not wrong. When she arrived at the restaurant, Fan An recognized her never-before-seen family members at a glance.
A circle of dark heads surrounded the round table. Black hair, black eyes, black clothes. A Black Zetsu meeting.
Fan An sat down between Cousin Hanzawa and Second Uncle Fan Ren, joining the pitch-black everything.
…
At the restaurant entrance, a disguised Vermouth hesitated.
The blond woman looked uncertainly, then looked again.
“Bourbon, are you sure you booked this restaurant?” Vermouth hid behind a potted plant and made a phone call, like a thief. “You didn’t tell me so many people would be here.”
Bourbon: “?”
“I booked a table for two as you requested,” he said. “Are there other organization members present?”
Even an intelligence operative couldn’t possibly remember the faces of every member of the Black Organization. In the distillery, they usually recognized each other by their uniforms.
Especially people who wore all black in the middle of a summer day. They were either fools who had heatstroke or organization members with a strong sense of ceremony.
For example, Gin with his black trench coat and black fedora, and Vodka with his three-piece suit and sunglasses. He really wanted to turn off the air conditioning in the Porsche 356A one day and see if they still dared to dress out of season.
Ten minutes after Vermouth’s call, Bourbon arrived at the restaurant. He saw the blond woman peering into the restaurant from behind a potted plant like a thief and was very confused.
If you’re already here, just go in. Is there some kind of monster in the restaurant?
Bourbon looked inside the restaurant.
Him: “…”
There was another thief behind the potted plant.
“What’s the situation?” Bourbon asked in a low voice. “An employee gathering?”
Vermouth: “Does the organization have this tradition?”
The two high-ranking distillery members looked at each other. The inside of the restaurant had become a sea of black.
“Business is booming, isn’t it, this place.”
A boisterous voice came from a distance. Mouri Kogoro stroked his beloved mustache, followed by Mouri Ran and Edogawa Conan.
Edogawa Conan habitually observed his surroundings. His sharp eyes caught a glimpse of the suspicious figures behind the potted plant. Alarms blared in his head. He pressed the frame of his glasses, zooming in.
Edogawa Conan: ?
Mr. Amuro, are you being a thief?
The elementary school detective casually glanced inside the restaurant.
He gasped.
There was another thief behind the potted plant—Enough! This is just a decorative plant! It can’t hide three people!
Bourbon and Vermouth stood up as if nothing had happened and walked into the restaurant.
Vermouth was wearing a disguise. Bourbon had used a blind spot. Mouri Kogoro and Mouri Ran didn’t notice their presence. Only Edogawa Conan was on edge.
The layout of the restaurant was like this: a huge round table occupied the most spacious area. To the left was the table for two that Bourbon had booked. To the right was the table for three that Mouri Kogoro had booked. In the middle was a table of normal customers.
Edogawa Conan’s butt hadn’t even touched the chair, but his eyes were already blurry.
So dark… I think I’m going blind…
He suddenly understood why Vodka’s sunglasses were welded to his face. He must be very adapted to this pitch-black world.
Wait, why did one of the people in this pitch-black group look so familiar?
Bourbon was speechless.
Who could understand the feeling of salvation upon seeing your neighbor at a suspected distillery employee gathering? Was this his punishment for not cooking at home today?
Eating with two people allowed him to try more new dishes. Amuro was very interested in cooking. Whenever he had time, he would try new recipes.
The girl next door was a particularly good dining companion. She enjoyed everything she ate, was always supportive, and was available on call. Amuro had gradually gotten used to cooking for one more person.
He remembered now. When he had told An’an he wasn’t cooking today, the girl hadn’t sent a crying emoji. Instead, she had cheerfully told him that she was going to a family dinner.
A family dinner…
In the current scene, even if someone told him that Gin was Fan An’s distant older brother, Amuro might have believed it.
The dishes were served one by one. Bourbon ate without tasting anything.
He had originally arranged to meet Vermouth to probe for information about the new Scotch Whisky. Now, he just wanted to get through this meal peacefully.
Vermouth was thinking the same thing. A disguise freed one from the burden of maintaining decorum. She quickly finished her food.
The two blond beauties were united in their purpose. Their desire for peace was so strong it could have condensed into water droplets.
But they had forgotten that they weren’t the only ones in the restaurant.
Edogawa Conan picked up his chopsticks. He had never had a peaceful meal outside in his life. Would today be an exception?
“GAAAAH!”
The customer at the most normal table in the middle suddenly started foaming at the mouth. The plates on the table were wildly swiped to the floor, shattering into pieces.
The scream attracted the attention of the round table. One by one, pitch-black gazes turned towards the deceased, glowing with an evil light.
I’m sorry, Edogawa Conan didn’t want to judge people with prejudice either, but the lifeless, dark gazes of this group were really terrifying.
The great detective was fearless. Sleep, Kogoro!
“No one move!” Sleeping Kogoro said in a deep voice. “Everyone present could be a suspect. State your names.”
A commotion arose from the round table. The suspects looked at each other and stated their names one by one.
“Fan Ze.”
“Fan Ren.”
“Fan Zui.”
“Fan Shi.”
“Fan Fa.”
“Fan Bing.”
“Fan Tai Sui.”
And the last one, the dark-haired girl raised her hand. “Fan An.”
(T/N: The names are all puns on words related to crime. Hanzawa, Accomplice, Crime, Incident, Law, Soldier, Bad Omen, and Criminal.)
The Fan family said in unison, “Who are you calling a suspect?”
Edogawa Conan was drenched in sweat.