"Gin… why are we checking Kudo Shinichi's house the moment we get back?" Vodka asked, puzzled.
Gin gave him a cold sideways glance.
"Do I need to explain myself to you every time I do something?"
"Yes, sir." Vodka lowered his head immediately.
"This trip to New York—we were played from the beginning," Gin said, voice low. "Sherry's appearance, the Night Baron's 'revenge'… from the first step, we were led around by the nose."
A flash of icy light crossed his eyes. He slammed the glass in his hand down on the counter.
"And among the people who might have a grudge against us—aside from that famous detective, Kudo Shinichi—I can't think of anyone else."
Vodka's face changed.
"You mean… the one who tried to blow us up was Kudo Shinichi?"
Gin's gaze turned even colder.
"Kudo Shinichi is called a modern-day Holmes. He wouldn't do something like that and stain his own principles. Besides… whether he's dead or alive is still uncertain."
"Then who wanted to blow us up?"
"Night Baron…" Gin said, the words sounding like they crawled out of an abyss—cold, hungry, and murderous.
Vodka's eyes flared with anger.
"Next time he shows his face, we kill him."
"Forget Night Baron for now," Gin said, cutting him off. "First, confirm whether Kudo Shinichi is dead or alive."
He drained his drink in one gulp and walked away from the counter without another word.
Vodka hurriedly paid and followed.
Heiji opened his eyes and looked down at Ai in his arms. She was asleep, her small face unusually peaceful.
For a moment, he just watched her breathe, steady and quiet—then a strange discomfort rose in his chest. He immediately pushed the thought away and shook his head hard.
Get a grip.
The phone rang again.
Heiji set the stray thoughts aside and answered.
"Hello?"
"Heiji?" Eri Kisaki's voice came through. "I need to go to the scene today to collect samples. Are you free?"
"Samples?"
"Evidence samples," Eri clarified. "If we show up in court again without anything concrete, we'll lose the next round."
Heiji thought briefly. If Gin really had returned, there would definitely be movement. Better to resolve the "ring-within-a-ring" situation as quickly as possible.
"Alright. When?"
"Eleven. Do you have a car?"
"Yes."
"Then come pick me up. My car's in for maintenance." Her tone stayed composed, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "See you at eleven."
The line went dead.
Heiji stared at the phone, speechless.
He had barely set it down when it rang again.
"Heiji," Sato Miwako said, her voice tight with restraint, "Kazuha and Sonoko want to meet me. What should I do?"
Heiji froze.
"When?"
"Eleven."
"Eleven again?" Heiji muttered before he could stop himself.
"Again?" Miwako asked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Heiji steadied his tone. "Do you need me to pick you up?"
One side was his girlfriends; the other was work. There was nothing to weigh.
"No. Sonoko said she'll come get me." Miwako lowered her voice even further. "Heiji… do you think Kazuha and the others will accept me?"
Heiji let out a small, confident breath.
"Don't worry. Kazuha and Sonoko are good people."
A call notification cut in.
"Heiji—Kazuha's calling. I'll answer first," Miwako said quickly, and hung up.
Heiji shook his head. Miwako sounded genuinely nervous.
Ai's eyelashes trembled. She suddenly curled closer into Heiji's chest, like a startled rabbit seeking warmth.
Then Heiji's phone rang again.
"Heiji," Sonoko said briskly, "Kazuha and I have something important to handle today. Go find something else to do."
"What is it?"
Sonoko only left him with that mystery and ended the call.
Heiji sighed, then looked down at Ai—her lashes still fluttering faintly.
He settled his phone aside, tightened his hold around her, and lay back down.
It's only eight. Might as well sleep a little longer.
Ai's body trembled slightly. His arms were warm.
She cracked her eyes open just a little and looked at the sleeping face close to hers. A complicated expression crossed her gaze.
Her small hands tightened around his waist. Then she closed her eyes again and drifted back to sleep.
Eri Kisaki arrived dressed casually: a high-neck sweater, cropped jeans, and clean white sneakers. With her tall, slender figure and striking face, anyone who didn't know her would never guess she was the legal world's "Undefeated Queen."
She stood quietly outside the building, waiting.
Not far away, Ran was walking with her club. When she noticed Eri, her eyes lit up.
Mom?
She was about to run over—
A pink BMW pulled up in front of Eri.
Ran watched as her mother suddenly smiled—brightly, warmly—then opened the door and got in. The BMW drove away.
Ran's pupils shrank.
Through the rearview mirror, she caught a vague glimpse of a man's face.
"Mom…"
It felt like lightning hit her. Ran stood there, stunned.
Mom never dresses like that… She's on a date. With another man.
"President, I'm sorry," Ran said quickly to the club leader, forcing the words out. "Something urgent came up—I need to go home."
Before the other girl could respond, Ran strode off at once.
Inside the BMW, Heiji kept his eyes on the road.
"Ms. Kisaki, that outfit suits you," he said. "It looks great."
The clothes matched Eri perfectly—relaxed but sharp, elegant without feeling out of place.
Eri smiled, composed as ever.
"Thank you. I haven't dressed like this in a long time. Today felt like a good chance to breathe a little… and collect a piece of evidence while I'm at it."
"Speaking of evidence," Heiji said, "do you have a lead?"
"I do." Eri's expression sobered. "From a legal standpoint, testimony only carries real weight when the witness personally saw the event. Today I want to interview them again—properly—and gather usable statements."
"But that still doesn't prove Shiratori is innocent," Heiji said, matter-of-fact.
"So…" Eri turned her head slightly and looked at him, a faint smile returning. "I need your help. With a genius detective like you, finding something new should be easy."
Heiji raised a brow.
"Don't you have a 'great detective' at home? The famous Sleeping Kogoro Mouri?"
Eri's mouth tightened.
"I don't want to deal with that infuriating man—smokes, drinks, gambles, and never stops." She said it with the irritation of someone who had repeated the complaint a thousand times. "I don't want to."
For a brief second, she sounded almost childish—annoyed, stubborn, and unapologetic.
They arrived near the apartment where Officer Shiratori lived and got out.
A clean, elegant fragrance brushed past Heiji.
Before he could react, Eri's hands—cool and steady—slid around his arm and held it firmly.
"According to studies," she said with an elegant smile, "presenting yourselves as a couple is the easiest way to lower someone's guard and gain their trust."
Heiji shrugged as if it were nothing.
"Let's hope it works."
Pretending to be a couple really was one of the fastest ways to make people relax.
Behind them, a pair of eyes fixed on their backs—wide with shock.