"What did Higashino Makoto do on day one?"
On the phone, Gin's voice was ice-cold, utterly devoid of feeling.
He was simply curious how this newest recruit—the one he'd personally brought into the fold—would go about completing his first mission.
"He went to the Beika Art Museum to see the Medieval Art Exhibition."
Akemi answered honestly.
"Went to an art exhibition?"
"And day two?"
Gin paused for a beat before pressing on.
"He went to the Beika Art Museum to see the Medieval Art Exhibition."
Akemi said again.
"And day three?"
Gin's tone had turned distinctly chilly as he asked once more.
Two straight days wasted on a boring exhibition—surely day three he'd get down to actual business!
"He brought his girlfriend along to the Beika Art Museum to see the Medieval Art Exhibition."
Akemi said, with a faint trace of bitterness.
Gin: "..."
Three days running, and it was nothing but visits to look at an art exhibition.
And today was already the very last day of the deadline!
And he was still just looking at paintings?
"Boss, I don't think he has any intention of serving the Organization at all."
"A guy like that—just let me take him out already."
Vodka drew a hand across his throat like a blade, signaling he could handle it at a moment's notice.
"Two thirty-eight in the afternoon!"
Gin glanced at his watch, his cold gaze sweeping over the sniper rifle on the table. "If it hits midnight and the target still isn't handled..."
"Hmph!"
A long, sharp sniper round stood upright on the table.
◇◇◇
The Beika Art Museum.
A banner hung by the entrance, advertising the "Medieval Art Exhibition."
Ever since the Meiji Restoration, Japan had set out on a path of total Westernization, and the entire country, top to bottom, had embraced Western culture wholeheartedly.
Even in the world of painting, Western art reigned supreme.
And yet, this museum's Medieval Art Exhibition sat nearly empty, with only a handful of visitors to be found.
After all, what were oil paintings from centuries ago next to a pair of long legs on a short-video app?
Even the handful of old men who did show up were just sitting in the chairs, enjoying the free air conditioning, drooling over the pretty girls on their phones.
"Whoa! Whoa!"
"Armor, knights, and a longsword too!"
Conan bounced around, playing up his goofball-kid act.
"Honestly!"
"Why is it that you two want to see an art exhibit, and I'm the one stuck babysitting this brat?"
Kogoro grumbled, all the while scanning the room with his eyes.
Unfortunately, he was disappointed soon enough.
This old museum didn't have a single beautiful, black-veiled young widow anywhere in sight.
"Come on, Dad."
"You're always watching horse races or Okino Yoko—might as well look at some art for once!"
Ran wheedled.
"Fine, fine, I get it."
"I did bring the brat along, didn't I?"
Kogoro made a face and plopped himself down next to the old men, leaning in to check out the girls wriggling around on their screens too.
"What a beautiful painting!"
"Now this is real art!"
Makoto stood in front of an oil painting, unable to hold back his admiration.
"Yes, it's a beautiful painting."
"Every single painting here is a one-of-a-kind work of art."
"Every one of them is the culmination of my entire life's work!"
The old curator stood behind him, hands clasped at his back, studying the painting intently.
"I only wish that treasures like these could be seen and appreciated by every generation to come."
Makoto said, playing along.
"They will be!"
"No one, whoever they are, is going to destroy these works of art."
The old curator nodded, a sharp glint flashing through his aged eyes.
"But what about the hotel renovation plan?"
"If nobody stops it, this museum is going to turn into some luxury hotel reeking of money."
Makoto pressed him again.
Every day, around this same time, he'd come to the museum to look at the exhibition and chat with the old curator for a bit.
Except the first two days, he'd come alone.
This time, he'd brought the Mouris—father and daughter—along with that bespectacled little kid.
"Young man, there aren't many people left these days who can truly appreciate art, especially someone your age."
"It comforts me to see a young person who genuinely loves oil painting."
"Even if it were only for your sake—just one person—I would still protect this museum, and every treasure kept within it!"
The old curator smiled warmly, though his eyes only grew more resolute.
"Makoto, do you know that old man?"
Ran asked curiously.
"Not really. We just both happen to appreciate art."
Makoto said lightly.
"Oh, I see!"
Ran didn't think much more of it—if anything, she seemed a little pleased.
Because she'd just discovered one more thing to like about Makoto.
He loved oil paintings. He appreciated art!
Honestly, it was like he was a prince—even his taste was this refined.
"Tch, what a phony."
Conan grumbled under his breath, his face full of contempt.
He glanced around at the paintings, and no matter how he looked at them, he just couldn't muster any interest.
These things weren't nearly as interesting as a murder victim's corpse.
"Ooh, this one's good, this one's really good!"
"Right? I've been following her for ages."
"Nah, not this one, next, next!"
"What about this one? Top-tier!"
"Heh heh! Just my type, amazing!"
...
Off in the corner of the museum, Kogoro and the old men were still at it, critiquing the girls in the short videos on their phones, getting more worked up by the minute.
…
…
Higashino Makoto — Protagonist. Transmigrated.
Miyano Akemi — Miyano Shiho's older sister. Series: Detective Conan.
Mouri Ran — Shinichi's childhood sweetheart. Series: Detective Conan.
...
...
I apologize for making you guys wait. I have a situation to deal with.
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