Chapter 33
The girl was coaxed to sleep by Amuro Tooru. With all her worries gone, her head hit the pillow and she instantly fell into a deep, sweet slumber.
An enviable quality of sleep, especially for an undercover Public Security officer who worked overtime constantly and often pulled all-nighters.
In a way, Suspect An’s psychological fortitude was truly remarkable. She had talked about what would happen if Kinoshita’s body started growing maggots in the cleaning closet, but in reality, she showed not even a symbolic concern for the deceased.
She was only concerned about her accomplice. An’an, half-asleep, struggled to mumble, “There are cookies in the drawer. Take some to eat later… zzz…”
So thoughtful, he mused, afraid that Amuro would get tired and hungry while destroying the evidence.
…
In room 412, Edogawa Conan, who was trying to discern the movements next door over the sound of Mouri Kogoro’s snores, heard a door open. He immediately rushed out.
“Mr. Amuro?” Edogawa Conan gave him a half-lidded look, his gaze falling on the blond Public Security officer eating cookies in the hallway. “Are you going out for a midnight snack?”
Amuro: You’re mistaken. These are stamina potions.
The great detective was in no mood for a midnight snack. He asked urgently, “Did the killer show up?”
Edogawa Conan had expected a “yes” or “no” answer. However, what he got was a look of pity from the Public Security officer.
The Great Detective: ???
Amuro looked at Edogawa Conan as he looked at himself half an hour ago: naive, ignorant, and unaware that he had already been utterly defeated.
The great detective was a man who had seen it all. Amuro thought for a moment and said to Edogawa Conan, “Come with me.”
The elementary school student followed Amuro, completely bewildered, from the fourth floor to the back kitchen, finally stopping in front of a remote cleaning closet.
Edogawa Conan had a vague idea of what was going on. He said grimly, “Damn it, did the killer succeed after all? Did he hide the victim’s body in there?”
“No,” Amuro paused. “He is the victim.”
Edogawa Conan: “Huh?”
Amuro recounted Suspect An’s confession, leaving the great detective in a state of cat-in-space confusion.
Edogawa Conan: Who am I? Where am I? What have I been doing?
He had been deducing all day, and this was the truth you were telling him?
“Mr. Amuro, are you going out in the middle of the night to…” Edogawa Conan had a bad feeling.
Heavens, a Public Security officer is actively being an accomplice for Suspect An! Is this a distortion of human nature or a moral decay?!
Amuro was unmoved. His gaze fell on the cookie crumbs by Edogawa Conan’s mouth. He said calmly, “You’ve also accepted a bribe from the suspect.”
These were supplies that An’an had specifically prepared for the support staff. Could they be eaten for free?
Edogawa Conan (reproachfully): Dragging an elementary school student onto your pirate ship! You have no heart!
As he condemned them, his feet were rooted to the spot, showing no intention of leaving.
The Great Detective: I’m sorry, but you know how it is. We detectives can’t resist a dead body.
…
What neither Amuro nor Conan expected was that the person lying on the floor of the cleaning closet was not the maggot-infested corpse of Kinoshita Yatarou.
Because the man was still breathing.
This cockroach-like resilience moved even the undercover Public Security officer.
“Thank goodness,” Amuro breathed a sigh of relief. “This is definitely self-defense now. There’s no way they can convict An’an of excessive self-defense.”
The light from the doorway made Kinoshita’s fingers twitch. He struggled to wake up, to regain his senses.
So painful, so cold. The sharp pain from his wound and the chill of excessive blood loss combined. The former killer was so weak he couldn’t even crawl, his face deathly pale.
Kinoshita didn’t dare to close his eyes. The moment he did, the same scene would replay in his mind like a flashback.
The sharp boning knife piercing his side, twisting deftly, as if carving flesh.
He was pushed into the narrow cleaning closet. As he fell, the lights outside happened to come back on, a bright light.
The white light was blocked by the dark-haired girl. Her shadow enveloped Kinoshita, like black mud covering his mouth and nose, drowning his tongue, slowly burying him in a silent, lonely grave.
“Shh.”
The door closed, and she held a finger to her lips.
The last sliver of light was cut off by the heavy door. The killer, lying on the dusty floor, could clearly hear the sound of his life ebbing away.
Drip, drop, drip, drop…
Blood pooled into a small lake. Kinoshita’s vision went black, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to let himself sleep.
If I fall asleep, I’ll never wake up. I can’t die. How can I die when I don’t even have someone to take down with me?!
I will have my revenge, Kinoshita thought. Third time’s the charm. The third time, I will definitely kill her!
He had learned his lesson from the first two times. This time, he wouldn’t go it alone. Rum was right. He shouldn’t be a lone wolf like Gin—even Gin kept Vodka by his side at all times. Was there really any benefit to isolating everyone?
He had a comrade here!
Bourbon, Kinoshita called out in his mind. Find me, Bourbon!
I’m begging you. Find me!
His desperate cries and prayers had worked. A glimmer of hope shone in Kinoshita’s eyes.
Bourbon had come. Thank goodness. He knew he hadn’t lost.
Kinoshita, enduring the pain, looked up at the blond, dark-skinned man. Quick, bandage me up, and then help me get my revenge…
Click.
A cold handcuff snapped around Kinoshita’s wrist. Amuro Tooru took a walkie-talkie from his pocket and ordered, “Take him back to Public Security. I’ll interrogate him myself.”
Kinoshita felt as if he had been hit on the back of the head with a club!
“You… Bourbon… Public Security mole…”
Kinoshita’s head spun. He was so angry he was fuming.
Damn it, Bourbon is a mole!
You whiskies!!! Fake liquor!!!
He clutched his chest, the whites of his eyes rolling back, and fainted from sheer rage.
Edogawa Conan was startled. He quickly put his fingers under Kinoshita’s nose.
Fortunately, he was still breathing, but his breathing was erratic, as if he were about to have a stroke.
“He’s an organization member, after all,” the great detective said with contempt. “His psychological fortitude is so poor.”
Amuro Tooru nodded in agreement. He took a photo of Kinoshita’s wound and a video of his twitching limbs.
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“I hope the video will make Rum forgive his mission failure,” Amuro said with feigned sympathy.
A member without even a codename, practically a cripple. Being abandoned by the organization was his inevitable fate.
And what did Kinoshita’s miserable state have to do with the intelligence operative Bourbon? He had said it from the beginning: don’t blame me if the mission fails.
Learning to shift blame is a profound art of the workplace. The Working Emperor was well-versed in this.
Bourbon had only come to the hotel for a vacation at the invitation of the young lady of the Suzuki Group. He wasn’t the distillery’s workhorse. He was closed for business outside of working hours.
…
A night that seemed peaceful but was in fact filled with countless people working overtime passed. In room 414, An’an had a full night’s sleep.
She opened her eyes in bed and stretched her arms high.
No handcuffs on the left, none on the right. Underneath her was the hotel’s soft bed, not the cot of a detention center.
“Preliminary confirmation: Mr. Amuro really didn’t report me,” An’an said, doing a carp-like sit-up. She opened the drawer where the cookies were stored. A few were missing.
He had accepted the bribe as well. Suspect An had completely returned to safe mode.
She relaxed and pulled open the room’s curtains. Sunlight flooded in, the outdoor pool shimmering with golden light.
So dazzling. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, which were about to be blinded.
The sunlight seemed to be creating an illusion. A particularly shiny golden head was walking towards An’an, looking up at her, and waving.
It didn’t seem to be an illusion. The dark-haired girl leaned over the balcony railing, the white cat pointing at herself. “Are you looking for me?”
“Who else but An’an?” Amuro tilted his head towards the outdoor pool. “Swimming, guaranteed to learn. Did you forget?”
An’an hadn’t forgotten. She had just thought that since Amuro had been busy helping her destroy evidence for half the night, doing so much physical labor, he should be resting in his room today.
She had underestimated the stamina of a Beika Town native. For him, dumping a body was just a casual task. How surprising.
Amuro, who had inexplicably received a look of admiration from the girl, was puzzled. “?”
He had interrogated Kinoshita all night. After emptying the man’s stomach of information, he had just managed to rush back to the resort hotel at dawn.
Amuro had gotten two hours of sleep, was fully revived, and remembered his promise to the girl. He had changed into his swimsuit and gone downstairs.
A short while later, a Michelin Man appeared in front of Amuro.
The Michelin Man spoke with An’an’s voice. “I’m ready.”
The blond young man rubbed his temples. Without a word, he reached out his hands.
“Eek, don’t take it off—don’t take it all off! Leave me one!”
The dark-haired girl struggled and resisted, to no avail, randomly scaring away a passing Edogawa Conan.
The Great Detective: Why… why do I always have to be a part of their play…
The last swimming ring was taken from An’an. She sadly wiped her tears.
She would never praise Mr. Amuro for being handsome and kind-hearted again. He was so cruel.
“You can’t learn to swim with a swimming ring on,” Amuro said helplessly. “I’m right here. I won’t let you sink.”
A person who has drowned is suspicious of everything. If it weren’t for the fact that Amuro had a decent reputation in An’an’s heart, she would have definitely put on an oxygen tank before getting in the water.
The girl slowly walked down the steps into the pool. Amuro promptly grabbed her, stopping her from heading towards the kids’ section.
“We’ll learn on the border between the shallow and deep ends,” the blond young man comforted An’an. “You won’t be scared if your feet can touch the bottom, right?”
The pool water came up past An’an’s shoulders. She pointed out sharply, “Isn’t it scary to only have your head showing? To the people on the shore, it looks like a head floating in the water, randomly scaring any passing children.”
“It’s fine,” Amuro smiled. “Only Conan will pass by.”
Edogawa Conan: Just kill me and get it over with.
First, they had to learn the correct swimming posture. Amuro swam a lap as a demonstration and brought back a kickboard for the girl.
“Hold onto the kickboard and try to float,” he said. “Let’s practice the leg movements first. I’ll support you with my hands. Don’t be afraid.”
Learning to swim was very similar to learning to ride a bike. Amuro had once taught a child who had come to Café Poirot to ride a bike.
The secret was to hold on at first, and then slowly let go as they got the hang of it. They would discover that they had unknowingly mastered the correct technique.
“You absolutely, definitely can’t let go halfway,” An’an emphasized again and again, and even made him pinky promise.
Amuro: “Mhm, mhm.”
His palm supported the girl’s lower abdomen, guiding her as she slowly swam forward.
An’an was very scared at first, but after a few laps, she found that swimming was quite easy, and the splashing water was cool and comfortable.
The girl’s expression gradually relaxed. Amuro felt it was time.
An’an was holding onto the kickboard. Even if he let go, the buoyancy of the kickboard would not let her sink.
Just in case, Amuro cautiously chose a spot near the shallow end, where the girl’s toes could touch the bottom.
To learn to swim, one must go through this step. I hope An’an doesn’t choke on water, he thought to himself.
The child learning to ride a bike had also fallen many times, and had wanted to give up in frustration. Amuro had prepared some Kamen Rider stickers, which were popular with elementary school students. The little boy had been so enticed by the reward that he had worked hard and learned.
If he were to entice An’an, what should he use?
Make more delicious food?
As Amuro was thinking, he let go.
None of the scenarios he had imagined happened.
An’an neither choked on water nor successfully swam.
The girl clung to Amuro like an octopus, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her arms around the blond young man’s neck.
“I knew you were going to abandon me!” the dark-haired girl was furious. “Good thing I was on my guard—people who don’t keep their promises have to swallow a thousand needles! You big liar!”