Chapter 120: They Believed It, They Actually Believed It
Although Mo Yu had said those things to Shinichi Kudo after Gin had already retreated, Gin was a man of meticulous planning. Before leaping out the window, he had secretly left a listening device, and thus, he learned everything.
After learning this information, Gin reported it truthfully.
How the highest level of the "Distillery," the person known as "Renya Karasuma," interpreted this information, Gin did not know. However, through the feedback and the subsequent orders, Gin could sense that "That Person," usually shrouded in absolute mystery, was in a state of rare turbulence.
Gin was highly valued, yet he had never seen Karasuma in person. All communication went through layers of encrypted emails and phone calls with background noise eliminated and voice-changers that varied with every call. At times, Gin questioned if he was truly speaking to Karasuma. But as the years passed, those doubts vanished.
Whether by email or phone, Karasuma's words had a highly recognizable style: mysterious and rational, cruel and cold. There was an extreme sense of enigma that never exposed a single traceable detail, a logic so calm it was nearly non-human, and a natural cruelty in every mission assigned.
That style had never changed for decades. Yet, after hearing about the world-line shift, Karasuma's voice over the phone had displayed rare, violent emotional fluctuations. In fact, ordering the entire Organization to mobilize every resource and hunt Shinichi Kudo at all costs was itself an irrational, impulsive command.
Perhaps Gin didn't understand it at the moment, but after hanging up, as a smart man, he gradually realized the truth.
He was an orphan adopted by the Organization, surviving rigorous training to serve it. He had killed countless people, survived a thousand crises, plundered fortunes, and rooted out traitors to build the Organization's glory. Every drop of blood he shed was a mark of the existence known as "Gin."
If all of this was false. If it simply didn't exist until a few days ago when a boy casually tossed a die and triggered the Fourth World-Line Divergence—bringing him and the entire Organization into existence.
Even a man as cold as Gin felt a sense of vertigo at the thought.
Gin specialized in slaughter, but he was educated. He knew this was similar to Bertrand Russell's "Five-Minute Hypothesis": the theory that the universe was created five minutes ago, complete with all memories and historical records. How could one prove or disprove it?
If Russell appeared before Gin, Gin would answer without hesitation with his Beretta M92F. If you can't solve the problem, solve the person who raised it.
But Gin couldn't disprove this via a bullet. He was trapped in the philosophical and logical trap. Especially since the Fifth World-Line Divergence had brought a brand-new "update"—the massive Stands appearing before everyone's eyes. It was ironclad proof that the "World-Line Shift" setting was real.
Faced with this proof, Gin couldn't help but wonder: If I and the Organization were only born in the Fourth or Fifth shift, if everything is fake... then what is the meaning of our existence?
Are we merely created so that a detective brat has a 'Dark Side' opponent to play with?
Is our existence truly that humble and ridiculous?
This thought haunted Gin. It even caused him to lose focus in front of Vodka. But it also helped him understand the irrational fury behind Karasuma's orders. They coveted the power of the Die, but they also felt a primal, heartfelt rage and fear toward Shinichi Kudo—the culprit of these shifts.
Rage, because their lives originated from a child's whim. Fear, because of what might happen next. In the next shift, would they still exist? Would they vanish as if they never were? Or would the world add a singularity even more absurd than Stands, ending them all?
As long as the possibility existed, there was no sleep. Facing the "Five-Minute Hypothesis," Karasuma and Gin shared the same solution: Solve the person who caused the problem.
Kill Shinichi Kudo. Seize the Magical Die. Then, the Organization wouldn't have to ponder these boring philosophical questions. They could go back to happily and righteously committing crimes.
These thoughts echoed in Gin's mind, causing his gaze to flicker. But as the Organization's top killer, his hand never wavered when gripping a gun.
"Monster... for the Organization, and for..."
Gin's voice trailed off into an inaudible whisper. Perhaps even he didn't know his reason for killing anymore. It certainly wasn't for the "safety of the world." But the momentary confusion vanished, replaced by a sharp, murderous command:
"Die!"
The Stand, Black Dragon of the Killing Calamity, fired first. An invisible bullet rippled through causality, landing on Shinichi's chest and transforming into an invisible circular frame with a crosshair!
Then, Gin's own gun fired. The bullet streaked toward Shinichi's heart. Finally, the sky-blotting dragon of the omens let out a thunderous "bang"—shooting nothing physical, but lending an invisible force to the projectile.
Shinichi looked up at the sky. Inside him, the Moriarty Heart pounded manically. The Sinful Blood surged.
Time seemed to slow down. Shinichi saw the metal bullet being stained by the crimson light of killing intent—layer upon layer—until it turned into a pitch-black, crystal-like state. The bullet spun violently, tearing through the atmosphere and leaving ripples of shockwaves in its wake. It carried an unstoppable declaration of death. It was the Mandate of Slaughter.
Yes, Shinichi was certain: that bullet carried Destiny. Not just anyone's appearance was worthy of being crowded by celestial omens. A boundless, violent fortune was entwined with Gin, and it resided in his gun. Through the sparks of the muzzle, it narrated the will of Heaven and the status of his existence.
Born into sin, carrying the Mandate of Slaughter!
Mo Yu, still "hanging out" and "fishing" nearby, sensed the information Shinichi was reading. He felt the Destiny in that shot. But Mo Yu found it normal. In the original series, Gin had been the iron-willed pillar of the Black side since the beginning. In an organization full of moles and incompetence, he alone carried the rivalry against Conan. He carried the entire Detective Conan franchise's "Red vs. Black" conflict for thirty years!
To use a 3D-world "cold joke": Anyone can die in Conan, but Gin cannot. If he died, the investors would slap the author, Gosho Aoyama, and tell him to resurrect Gin immediately. After all, the latest movie, Black Iron Submarine, broke 13.8 billion yen—the first in the series to cross the 100-million mark. Without the "Distillery's Model Worker," how would the movies make money?
In the world-bubble's self-logic completion, the settings of the original work had transformed into Gin's Status.
Gin was a Saint of Slaughter, blessed by the world's killing intent to declare Destiny!
Though they saw the same information, Shinichi and Mo Yu had different thoughts. Shinichi's eyes filled with a trace of pity.
In the detention center, he had told Yusaku everything. Yusaku had shared intel gathered from his private channels. Though the Distillery was secretive, there was plenty of data in America. Through his father, Shinichi knew the horrors the Organization had committed.
Yusaku wasn't omniscient; he mistook Shinichi's expression for worry about a powerful international syndicate. But he was wrong. In that moment, Shinichi felt Guilt and Regret.
Even knowing the world has no "what-ifs," he couldn't help but think: If the Fourth Divergence hadn't happened, the Distillery wouldn't exist. Those who died by their hand... would they have had a different life?
Worse was the realization that he held the "Medicine for Regret" in his hand. The Magical Die was always near him—an invisible temptation. Just one more throw. Maybe Steins;Gate would respond and erase the Distillery in a Sixth Divergence. If the sixth failed, there was the seventh, the eighth...
In infinite attempts, there might be a "Perfect World Line."
But Shinichi suppressed that impulse with a terrifying resolve. He never looked at the die once. Perhaps his logic told him that, according to scientific laws, a bad outcome is always more probable than a good one.
It was then that a blurry plan formed in his mind.
In this "Crime Show" to murder Moriarty, the Distillery was an essential cast member. But in Shinichi's script, they weren't the killers or witnesses—they were the Victims.
If the Distillery's sins originated from him, then Shinichi felt it necessary to "clean up his mess" before he died. For that, he was willing to pay any price. This was why he had thrown himself into the criminal authority granted by the Moriarty Heart.
Seeing Gin's status as a Saint of Slaughter, Shinichi felt pity because he felt Gin's destiny was his own fault. Without him, would Gin have had the chance to be a Super-Hero instead?
But the world has no "what-ifs." Nor should it.
In the next instant, the pity in Shinichi's eyes turned into violent killing intent and madness!
The sins he created, he would redeem personally!
The Distillery, the anomaly of the Fourth Divergence he had forged, would be annihilated by his own hand.
The black bullet struck Shinichi's chest. Majestic killing intent turned into physical force, howling as it pierced his body! Blood sprayed, but Shinichi remained standing. His voice grew savage:
"This erroneous world line... and you, who were born in error... shall be purged and corrected by me. Gin... DIE!!!"
The surging darkness was no longer confined to his eyes. It flooded out, obscuring his head and flowing downward, gradually mutating his entire body into the form of "Xiao Hei."
Gin didn't have time to wonder why Shinichi wasn't dead. Something more lethal was happening: the helicopter's engine suddenly belched thick smoke. The pilot screamed about a malfunction—they were going down.
Gin's expression remained icy. He had expected the hunt for this "monster" to be difficult. He held his black fedora and leaped from the helicopter!
In the next instant, Gin vanished. He disappeared from everyone's sight. When he reappeared, he was standing on the ground. Only then did the helicopter crash behind him, exploding into a fireball. His long silver hair ruffled in the wind, but he didn't look back once.
This "ghostly" movement was a Stand technique Gin had developed during Shiho's experiments—a "Frame-Skip" movement.
A second later, Gin vanished again. When he reappeared, his trench coat fluttering in the wind, his Beretta M92F was already pressed against Shinichi's forehead.
"The one who needs purging," Gin growled, "is not us or the Organization. It is you—the monster that shouldn't exist. The world is not a playground for your detective games!"
Looking at the mutated Shinichi and sensing the bone-chilling, terrifying malice radiating from him, Gin pulled the trigger without hesitation!
The moment the bullet left the chamber, Gin's pupils shrank. Shinichi had vanished. The "Guaranteed Hit" bullet curved manically, looping around toward Gin's back.
But it was too late to react. Shinichi's hand had already landed on Gin's back.
In the next instant, a violent heart pain attacked Gin!
End of Chapter
Like this story Leave a review ; it would really help me out a lot.
Want to Read Ahead in Advance?
Join my Patreon!
+75 Chapters
Support me in
Patreon.com/BestElysium