Chapter 26
The great detective was facing the most severe test of his career.
What happened to ‘pick one of three’? Who was maliciously ramping up the difficulty on him?
This is bad. If this continues, the reputation Sleeping Kogoro has built in Beika Town will be ruined.
Edogawa Conan was sweating profusely. He kept shooting glances at the blond Public Security officer: Mr. Amuro, help! Don’t leave me to face this alone!
A detective’s pride was worthless in the face of the Fan family army. Damn it, how could a group of people have such names?
Edogawa Conan was unlucky; he shouldn’t have gone out to eat today. But he was also lucky, because sitting across from Bourbon was Vermouth, his godmother.
“Bourbon, isn’t your cover job a detective?” Vermouth said, selling out her colleague without a second thought. “How can you just sit there and watch?”
It was a hot summer day, and the restaurant’s air conditioning was blasting. Edogawa Conan was sweating and being hit by the cold air at the same time. The child was on the verge of catching a bad cold.
The blond young man picked up the jacket draped over the armrest and walked towards the round table.
The weight of a jacket suddenly settled on her shoulders. Fan An blinked and looked up.
“Aren’t you cold?” Amuro asked. “Sitting right under the air vent.”
“It’s fine,” the girl answered truthfully. “Black absorbs heat.”
Bourbon: Then don’t wear all black when you go out.
He had only looked away for a moment, and An’an had already gotten herself into another big mess.
The blond young man’s arrival attracted many dark gazes. Fan An moved her chair to the side, making room.
She pulled Amuro down to sit, introducing him, “Everyone here is my family.”
Second Uncle Fan Ren looked critically at Amuro’s dazzling blond hair and purple-gray eyes, then gave a reluctant nod at his wheat-colored skin. “Sit. We’re all family here.”
The girl’s relatives seemed to have misunderstood something. Amuro wanted to explain, but he received a look from Edogawa Conan that said, “You’re my savior.”
Conan: As expected of Mr. Amuro, he’s easily infiltrated the enemy’s ranks!
Amuro: “…”
I’ll apologize to An’an when we get back to the apartment. Although, she doesn’t seem to mind at all.
Not only did she not mind, but the girl was secretly tugging on Amuro’s sleeve under the table, signaling him to cover for her so she could sneak the cherry pie into her own bowl.
“Everyone only gets one piece of cherry pie,” Fan An whispered in Amuro’s ear. “This is Second Uncle’s. Shh, I’ll share the loot with you.”
All the people with the surname Fan were suspicious, but Suspect An was undoubtedly the worst of them all.
“The cause of death is typical food poisoning,” Amuro reminded her. He pretended to chat with Mr. Fan Ren, blocking his line of sight, as the dark-haired girl swiftly and ruthlessly dragged the cherry pie into her bowl.
“So?” the girl, with a cherry in her mouth, asked, her question piercing straight to the soul. “Do you want some?”
She had already split the cherry pie in half with her fork. What could Amuro say? He could only accept it, eating the food shared by Suspect An at the scene of a food poisoning case.
It’s actually pretty good. She has good taste.
“It’s a family dinner, but I only know Cousin Hanzawa and Second Uncle Fan Ren,” Fan An said. She knew Mr. Amuro was a part-time detective and had come over to investigate the case, so she proactively shared information.
“I heard from my second uncle that it was very difficult to organize this family dinner. It just so happened that a batch of people were released from prison recently, so we were just barely able to fill a table.”
Amuro: “…Everyone at this table has a criminal record?”
Fan An: “What are you talking about? I don’t have a criminal record.”
Although, the combined police reports of everyone here probably aren’t as thick as hers.
Mr. Hanzawa, hearing their conversation, couldn’t help but defend himself in his heart. I’m innocent too! The only person I want to kill is that man.
Damn you, Kudo Shinichi! Where are you?!
Edogawa Conan: “Achoo!”
It’s over. I must have sweated too much. I’ve really caught a cold.
Hearing the sneeze, Fan An, sitting under the air vent, couldn’t help but pull the men’s jacket tighter around her shoulders.
It’s so big. It comes down to my thighs.
An’an put her hands into the sleeves. The cuffs covered her fingers. She shook her arms, like a traditional dancer with long sleeves.
The blond Public Security officer found it amusing. He helped her roll up the cuffs. The girl finally managed to reveal her fingertips, looking like a child who had secretly put on an adult’s clothes.
Edogawa Conan, who was squatting by the corpse and seriously trying to solve the case, happened to see this scene. He was speechless. “…”
Mr. Amuro hasn’t just infiltrated the enemy’s ranks. He’s one of them now.
…
That was not true. Amuro was seriously trying to solve the case.
Suspect An’s inherent attribute #1: She definitely has no alibi.
Suspect An’s inherent attribute #2: If there is more than one suspect at the scene, Suspect An’s suspicion is definitely the highest.
Fan Ze, Fan Ren, Fan Zui, Fan Shi, Fan Fa, Fan Bing, Fan Tai Sui… all of them put together couldn’t possibly be more suspicious than Suspect An.
The number one secret to solving cases at the police academy: learn to take shortcuts.
“An’an,” Amuro asked directly. “Did you have any individual contact with the deceased?”
“I came for a family dinner. What contact could I have had with the deceased?” Fan An shook her head.
Her: “I just accidentally bumped into the deceased at the bathroom door, knocking his bag over. A small white medicine bottle fell out of the bag. I just helped him pick it up.”
“Huh,” Fan An suddenly thought of something. “In that case, are my fingerprints and the deceased’s the only ones on the medicine bottle?”
Amuro: “…”
Edogawa Conan: “…”
This was the caliber of Suspect An. What police academy number one? What Heisei era Sherlock Holmes? So inefficient!
Sleeping Kogoro let out a series of violent coughs. Before Inspector Megure could pull out Suspect An’s dedicated report book, the great detective began his passionate deduction.
…
Vermouth sat to the side, her chin resting on her hand, watching Mouri Kogoro’s ventriloquism performance with a smile.
Bourbon sat across from her. It was clear that today’s dinner and information exchange were a bust, but the blond woman was in a very good mood.
“Why didn’t you ask for an autograph for me?” she said.
Vermouth’s tone was teasing. “Someone said they don’t watch dramas, but it seems they’ve already made a private connection in real life.”
“I don’t think I need to report my private life to you,” Bourbon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
And, he was watching the drama. A red-side mole would not allow a second instance of workplace bullying at the distillery.
As for the autograph, Bourbon didn’t think Vermouth was serious.
Her cover identity, Sharon Vineyard, was the real top star in the entertainment industry right now. If Vermouth were to tear off her disguise, the entire restaurant would be swarmed by paparazzi and fans.
“How rude. Who says a star can’t be a fan of another star?” Vermouth swirled her wine glass. “I’m particularly fond of that child.”
“She has a certain beauty, a sense that she can escape the law no matter what,” the blond woman said with admiration.
The other liquors were envious.
What was even more enviable was that Fan An’s fans could spam “she’s acting too real, it’s not fake, I suggest a thorough investigation” on public forums, but Sharon Vineyard’s fans didn’t dare to make a peep.
Vermouth: This really can’t stand up to an investigation.jpg
She can go in and out of the police station as if it were her own home. Can a real liquor member do that?
Vermouth genuinely admired Fan An. She could have easily made a living with her looks in idol dramas, but she had her own unique understanding of the horror-thriller villain genre. She disdained the entertainment headlines but had made a formidable name for herself in the crime section.
“A director friend of mine is preparing a new script. The lead role hasn’t been decided yet.”
Vermouth held a business card and pushed it across the table to Bourbon. “Maybe she’d be willing to give it a try.”
Why give it to him? Bourbon thought. Do I look that close to An’an?
The blond young man glanced at the girl at the round table. She was wearing his jacket, the overly long cuffs rolled up by the man himself, the hem covering her thighs.
To say they weren’t close would have no credibility at all.
…
“Cousin An’an, how are you getting home later?” After the case was wrapped up, it was already dark. Mr. Hanzawa asked, worried.
Daytime Beika and nighttime Beika were two different worlds. Even the ride-hailing apps were divided into a day version and a night version.
When a user opened the night version after sunset, they would see the following:
[Welcome to Didi Beika. This app will recommend personalized vehicle models based on your needs.]
[New user, the purpose of your ride is:]
A. Robbing a bank
B. Kidnapping
C. Fleeing the law
D. Illegal smuggling
E. All of the above
“That’s it?” Fan An scrolled through the screen, puzzled. “What if I want to attack the police department, crash into the Suzuki Tower, or drive around Beika blasting TikTok at full volume? Didi Beika, your app’s functions are too incomplete.”
The app developer’s imagination was too lacking. It was clear they had no experience with crime and hadn’t put themselves in the shoes of a criminal.
Fan An couldn’t find a suitable vehicle on Didi Beika—she just wanted to go back to her apartment. There was no need to use an Osprey for transport.
The sound of a car horn brought the dark-haired girl’s attention back.
A white Mazda had stopped beside her. The window rolled down, and Amuro rested his arm on the window frame.
“Want a ride?” he asked casually. “It’s free if you’re going my way.”
It was very much on her way. Fan An decisively uninstalled Didi Beika and got a ride from her neighbor.
“Someone asked me to give this to you.”
The blond young man held the steering wheel with one hand. With his other hand, he held a thin business card between his index and middle fingers and handed it to the girl in the passenger seat.
He had hesitated about telling An’an about the resource Vermouth had introduced. The blond woman’s actions could be purely out of interest, or they could have a deeper meaning.
But no matter what, he couldn’t make the decision for An’an.
“This director has worked with Kudo Yukiko before. He’s very picky,” Amuro added the information he knew. “It’s just an audition opportunity. It’s okay to refuse.”
Although Fan An’s debut work, The Evil Spirit in the Pitch Black, had been cut short, the brutal actions of Gin and Vodka had made it a milestone in the history of web dramas, a mountain that other thriller films could not ignore.
The drama directed by Director Kawamura was also a current hit. Even office workers with only an hour for lunch would squeeze out forty minutes to watch it while eating.
People who couldn’t keep up with the trend, even Bourbon, would be bullied at work. Vodka had bought a platform membership and also paid for early access, watching the drama with the same fervor as watching the World Cup. It was terrifyingly fanatical.
Fan An was destined to be famous.
The only thing Amuro found strange was, why hadn’t any talent scouts come to sign her yet?
“They have,” Fan An thought for a moment. “Many people have come, from film companies and private studios.”
Amuro: “Uh, none of them were successful?”
“Mhm,” the girl said, troubled. “Half of them, I arranged to meet at my place. To make a good impression, I cleaned up beforehand. But when they came in and saw the luminol reaction, they ran out like they were crazy. I couldn’t even call them back.”
“The other half, I arranged to meet at a restaurant outside. Every time, halfway through the meal, Inspector Megure would arrive, and Mouri Kogoro would fall asleep… Isn’t that normal in Beika? Out-of-towners are so easily surprised.”
If they don’t even have the ability to survive in the City of Crime, is there really a future in signing with them? Fan An was skeptical.
“Maybe I’m just cut out to work alone,” the dark-haired girl sighed. “Just like how I had three roommates die on me. It’s all the choice of Steins;Gate.”
She was just worrying about a new job, and Mr. Amuro had brought her a resource. He was like a timely rain!
Amuro: “…”
He sincerely wished An’an success in her audition. Even if she didn’t succeed, as long as he was around, she would have food to eat.
It was terrifying to imagine what would happen if this person, driven to desperation, truly embarked on a path of crime. As a Public Security officer, he must nip that terrifying future in the bud!
…
The white Mazda drove into the Trojan Horse Apartments. Fan An said good night to her handsome and kind-hearted neighbor and returned home.
The moment she entered, she received a call from Hiromitsu.
“Hiro?” The girl turned on the speakerphone and placed the phone on the bathroom sink.
“How have you been lately?” Hiromitsu asked gently.
This was his routine check-in call. After deciding to go undercover in the distillery again, the only person who knew Hiromitsu’s true identity was An’an. He would call her regularly to share updates.
An’an shared the story of the Fan family dinner with Hiromitsu. She enthusiastically invited him, “Hiro, you should come to the family dinner next time as my distant cousin. It’s so lively.”
Hiromitsu politely but firmly refused. The moment he heard that Amuro was also there, and at a restaurant with a strange woman, he knew it was Bourbon and Vermouth.
Scotch Whisky thought of the grand scene of the two high-ranking distillery members walking into a restaurant and seeing a sea of black, and silently began to chant.
Zero must be blaming himself so much. He lives right next door to the girl, yet he couldn’t stop her from going out in all black.
It was indeed too hot to wear black in the summer, but unfortunately, black was the traditional attire of the Fan family and the uniform of the Black Organization. Neither An’an nor her respected Mentor Scotch could escape it.
“The difference is, I can take off my traditional attire when I get home. Is Hiro still wearing all black and working overtime late at night?” the girl asked sympathetically.
The pure black skirt fell into the laundry basket. The showerhead sprayed warm water. The dark-haired girl tied up her long hair and caught a handful of water in her cupped hands.
That’s right. Hiromitsu stared through his sniper scope. The night wind on the rooftop was but a small comfort on a summer night.
“I’ll be done with work soon,” he said. “Have you finished the popsicles I bought in bulk from the fridge? An’an promised me, only one a day.”
The motherly question made An’an unable to lift her head. She quietly turned up the water flow of the showerhead, pretending she couldn’t hear anything.
A quiet child is definitely up to no good. Hiromitsu didn’t pursue the matter, because his target had appeared.
“Wait a moment, Scotch,” Pinga’s voice came through the earpiece. Hiromitsu hung up the phone.
He heard Pinga say, “The important thing is the USB drive in the target’s hand. It must be destroyed immediately. Can you aim?”
“I can,” Hiromitsu slightly adjusted his aim. “But hitting the USB drive will inevitably damage the electrical box next to it.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Pinga said without a shred of public decency. “Shoot.”
Hiromitsu knew it would be like this. The distillery was an evil organization through and through.
He didn’t know which area’s power supply the electrical box next to the target was connected to. With a sense of apology, Hiromitsu pulled the trigger.
BANG!
…
“Beep, beep, beep…” The mechanical busy tone came from the phone. An’an mumbled, “So busy,” and continued her shower.
A bright bathroom, warm water, an indispensable relaxation ritual after a tiring day.
When she came out, warm and fragrant, the cool air from the air conditioner was so comfortable that she felt like she was melting.
She remembered there was one popsicle left in the fridge, perfect for after a shower…
Click!
Sudden darkness interrupted An’an’s thoughts.
The water from the showerhead turned from hot to cold, drenching her from head to toe.
In the pitch-black darkness, the dark-haired girl fumbled to turn off the shower. She pushed open the bathroom door. The living room, with its stopped air conditioner, was like a furnace. An’an stepped into a steamer.
“…A power outage?” she said in disbelief.
In the forty-plus degree summer heat, the apartment had a power outage?
In the same apartment building, misfortune did not just befall one person.
Just a wall away, a blond young man stood silently, the cold water washing over his firm arms, the white foam flowing down the drain.