Deep beneath the FBI Headquarters, in an isolated interrogation zone secretly modified by the Organization and unknown even to the Eagle Country authorities. There were no windows here. The walls were sound-absorbing dark composite materials, and the light source came from pale LED strips embedded in the ceiling, illuminating every corner uniformly and mercilessly. The air was filled with a faint smell of ozone and a colder atmosphere of absolute control.
Kudo Yusaku and Shinichi Kudo were separately restrained in two specialized metal chairs. The chairs were connected to complex tubing, which not only bound their limbs but could also monitor and, to some extent, interfere with their vital signs and nerve signals. The alloy shackles were bone-chillingly cold, stripping them of their last possibility of struggle.
Opposite them was a massive one-way glass wall. Currently, it was dark behind the glass, but both father and son could feel gazes fixed upon them, like observing microorganisms struggling futilely in a petri dish.
The heavy, airtight door silently slid open.
The first person to step into the room was Yukiko. She no longer wore the lively, spirited appearance of a girl who would never grow up. A form-fitting dark purple qipao outlined her mature and graceful curves. Her long hair was pulled up high, revealing her long, fair neck. Her face wore delicate yet cold and glamorous makeup, especially her blue-purple eyes, once lively and cunning, which were now calm as an ancient well, yet flickering with a cruel and pleasurable light in their depths. In her hand, she toyed with a slender, sharp scalpel that gleamed with a faint blue light, the tip twirling lightly between her fingers like a dance.
Following behind her was Ran Mouri. She was still in her black battle suit, but over it, she wore a symbolic dark-red long coat. The hem was embroidered with intricate silver patterns, faintly echoing the markings on Kanjuro's robe. Her purple eyes were cold. When her gaze fell upon the Kudo father and son, there was no hatred or pleasure, only the indifference of executing a procedure, and a trace of... curiosity and adaptation toward the upcoming events, stemming from deep within her bloodline.
Yukiko walked up to Kudo Yusaku, stopping to look down at her nominal "husband." Her eyes held no love, no hate, and not even contempt, only the assessment one gives to an object.
"Yusaku," she began, her voice no longer sweet and playful, but possessing a lazy and dangerously magnetic quality, "it's been a long time. Especially like this."
Kudo Yusaku raised his head. Despite his dire situation, he still tried to remain calm, scrutinizing Yukiko with sharp eyes: "Yukiko... have you always been his person? Between us..."
"A Marriage of Convenience, mutually beneficial," Yukiko interrupted him, stating the facts flatly as if discussing someone else's affairs. "You needed cover, I needed an identity to approach certain circles. We never even held hands, did we? I know exactly who you've always held in your heart." A sneer curled her lips. "It's a pity that foolish detective didn't seem to have very good taste either, ending up the way she did."
Kudo Yusaku's pupils suddenly contracted, his body instantly tensed, and the mask of composure he had struggled to maintain cracked: "Kogoro Mouri... it really was Kanjuro!"
"Father took care of it," Ran Mouri added coldly from the side, as if discussing an insignificant matter. "Just an ant trying to get in the way. Eri Kisaki is doing very well now, and she is grateful to Father for... clearing away unnecessary burdens for her."
"Eri, too..." Kudo Yusaku's voice was dry and hoarse. He had vaguely heard about Eri Kisaki and Kogoro Mouri's marriage situation, but he never expected even she would... "Mother willingly chose to follow Father. She saw clearly what true strength and belonging were," Ran's tone was flat. "Unlike some people, who cling to ridiculous fantasies of justice and don't even dare to face their own feelings." Her gaze meaningfully swept over Kudo Yusaku.
These words were like a poisoned dagger, accurately piercing the most secret and painful corner of Kudo Yusaku's heart. The complex feelings he held for Kogoro Mouri, which surpassed friendship but were buried deep due to the times and their respective choices, had always been a private matter he refused to touch. To have it so coldly exposed now, especially when Kogoro Mouri had died at Kanjuro's hand, and Ran (Kogoro Mouri's biological daughter) spoke these words as a member of the murderer's faction, brought not only humiliation but the complete collapse of his beliefs and emotions.
"What... what exactly do you want?" Shinichi Kudo struggled, asking hoarsely. He looked at the familiar yet strange "Auntie Yukiko" before him, and at the completely cold Ran, fear and despair intertwined.
Yukiko turned around to look at Shinichi Kudo, her eyes revealing a cruelty that was almost "maternal love": "Shinichi, you truly are a pitiful child. You've lived your whole life in the fantasy of justice woven by your father, not even knowing what the girl you love truly needs." She stepped closer and gently patted Shinichi's pale cheek with the cold back of a knife. "But it doesn't matter. Soon, you will understand, and you will... be free."
She took a step back, stood side-by-side with Ran Mouri, and looked toward the one-way glass, nodding slightly as if awaiting instructions.
From the darkness behind the glass wall, a very faint hum of approval seemed to sound.
Yukiko smiled, a beautiful yet chilling expression. She looked back at Kudo Yusaku: "Well, Yusaku, to thank you for your 'cooperation' all these years, and to make you fully recognize reality... let us begin."
She raised the scalpel in her hand, the tip reflecting a cold gleam under the stark white light.
"Father said we should give you a good 'welcome'," Ran Mouri also stepped forward. Her finger joints cracked faintly, and an invisible surge of energy began to circulate around her, carrying a suffocating sense of oppression originating from the same source as Kanjuro's power. "Especially you, Shinichi Kudo. Your childish deductions and so-called'saving' have always troubled and... disgusted me."
"How about we start by recognizing 'loss'?" As Yukiko finished speaking, she flicked her wrist!
The scalpel transformed into a faint blue streak of light, not aiming for Kudo Yusaku's vital points, but accurately and with a cruel elegance, slicing open the sleeve of his suit and shirt on his left arm, exposing the skin, and then the tip of the knife lightly flicked—
A piece of skin about the size of a fingernail and thin as a cicada's wing was peeled off completely, revealing the bright red muscle tissue underneath. The process was so fast he barely felt the pain, but the subsequent sharp agony of exposed nerves hitting the air made Kudo Yusaku tremble, groan, and instantly break out in a cold sweat on his forehead.
Yukiko lifted the piece of skin with the tip of the knife, admiring it like a work of art: "See, Yusaku, once the pretense is stripped away, the interior is just this fragile thing. Just like your elaborate plans, they are utterly defenseless against Father's absolute power."
Simultaneously, Ran Mouri moved. She used no weapon; her figure merely blurred, and she appeared before Shinichi Kudo. Under his terrified gaze, she extended her right hand, index and middle fingers pressed together, faint black energy swirling around the tips, and struck Shinichi's chest like lightning!
It wasn't an attack on the heart, but a strike on a specific acupoint and Qi channel node.
"Agh—!!!"
Shinichi Kudo let out a horrifying, non-human shriek! He felt as if countless red-hot steel needles had instantly pierced his body, wildly surging and burning along his nerves and blood vessels! It wasn't just simple pain; it was accompanied by extreme soreness, numbness, itching, and a terrifying sense of emptiness as his life force was forcibly extracted and churned! This was a punishment that merged Karate acupoint striking techniques with the corrosive power of the Dark Bloodline, designed to maximize agony without easily killing.
"Feel it, Shinichi. This is the real world," Ran's voice sounded in his ear, cold and merciless. "There is no Sherlock Holmes, no perfect deduction, only power dominating everything, and pain defining reality."
Kudo Yusaku's eyes were bloodshot. Watching his son twist and convulse in inhuman agony, listening to the desperate screams, he struggled fiercely, his shackles clanking, but it was futile. "Stop it! Come for me! Let Shinichi go!"
Yukiko walked up to him, blocking his view of his son, the scalpel tip slowly descending, pointing toward his eye: "Shh... Yusaku, watch closely, listen carefully. This is the inevitable result of your failed education and mistaken choices. You couldn't protect Kogoro Mouri, you can't protect Shinichi, and you can't even... protect your own true feelings. You can only watch helplessly as everything is destroyed."
The knife tip drew closer and closer to his eyeball; the cold sensation and the fear of death seized him.
Behind the one-way glass, Kanjuro's figure had silently appeared at some unknown time. He was still wearing his Charcoal Gray Overcoat, hands tucked into his pockets, calmly enjoying the "performance" on the other side of the glass. His gaze swept over the struggling Kudo father and son, over the elegantly abusive Yukiko, and over the coldly executing Ran. In the depths of his purple eyes, there was a profound sense of satisfaction and control.
He witnessed the collapse of Kudo Yusaku's conviction, the annihilation of Shinichi Kudo's hope, and how his "women" and "daughter" perfectly executed his will, crushing the bodies and spirits of his enemies bit by bit.
This was not merely revenge.
This was a ritual. A Dark Ritual using the blood and wails of the old world's survivors to consecrate and proclaim the absolute authority of the New Order. And he was the sole High Priest and Deity of this ritual.
Yukiko and Ran, as beings connected to him by blood (or deep imprint), were implementing his will in the cruelest and most "artistic" way.
The screams and groans of the Kudo father and son echoed in the soundproofed room, becoming the most jarring yet moving chapter in this Dark Symphony. And their collapse would become another profound and bloody ornament on Kanjuro's throne of power.
Was Eri Kisaki watching silently behind a screen somewhere? Could Kuroba Toichi escape the subsequent hunt? All of this was merely the next chapter in the script held in Kanjuro's palm. And at this moment, he only needed to savor this instant of destruction and conquest that he had personally directed. FBI Headquarters, deeper down, an absolutely hidden surveillance node that wasn't even recorded by the previous interrogation area.
The number of screens here was greater, and the images were split more finely. They displayed not only the cruel scene inside the interrogation room but were also linked to residual, undamaged hidden cameras inside and outside the building, as well as the organization's own higher-precision monitoring equipment.
Kuroba Toichi, or rather, the Vengeful Spectre whose heart was burning with the fires of hell, sat alone in this cage formed by the pale blue light of the screens. His usual elegance and composure were long shattered. Every line on his face, which bore some resemblance to Kudo Yusaku's but looked more mysterious and weathered, was currently twisted by extreme rage, pain, and disbelief. He stared intently at the main screen, at everything happening inside the interrogation room—
He saw Kudo Yusaku—his elder brother, connected by blood but little known due to family secrets—having his dignity and body slowly tortured by Yukiko's hands, which were once lively but now seemed poisoned, using elegant and cruel methods. He saw the agony of conviction collapsing in Yusaku's eyes and heard his suppressed groans.
He further saw Shinichi Kudo—the young man he had never publicly acknowledged but secretly watched, admired his talent, and treated as a nephew—letting out horrifying, non-human wails under Ran Mouri's inhuman methods, as if his soul were being torn and burned by the dark power.
However, what made his eyes bloodshot and nearly caused him to grind his teeth was Kanjuro, standing behind the one-way glass, calmly enjoying it all, and the demeanor of the two women beside Kanjuro.
"Daughter?" Kuroba Toichi let out a beast-like growl from his throat. His nails dug deep into his palm, and blood dripped between his fingers, yet he was oblivious. "Kanjuro's... daughter?! And that woman... Yukiko?!"
On the screen, Kanjuro slightly tilted his head and seemed to whisper something to Ran Mouri beside him. Ran's cold face showed an extremely subtle flicker of emotion—it wasn't pity for the victim, but a kind of... twisted satisfaction after receiving her father's affirmation. She immediately controlled the corrosive power more precisely, causing Shinichi Kudo's scream to suddenly rise another pitch.
And Kanjuro actually reached out and very naturally wrapped his arm around the waist of another woman beside him—a woman who had just silently entered through the side door of the interrogation room, wearing a Black Backless Gown and possessing a chillingly elegant and noble aura.
Kuroba Chie.
She was Kuroba Toichi's legal wife, the mother of Kaitou Kid (Kaito Kuroba).
Chie obediently nestled against Kanjuro's side, even tilting her head slightly to press a cold yet lingering kiss on Kanjuro's lips. Her eyes, similar to Kaito's but deeper and more seductive, held only indifference when they fell upon the struggling Kudo father and son through the one-way glass—even... a faint trace of near-joyful appreciation. Her gaze lingered particularly on Shinichi Kudo's young, suffering face for a moment, as if making a comparison, before her red lips parted slightly to whisper a few words to Kanjuro. Hearing this, Kanjuro's smile deepened, a hint of playfulness flashed in his purple eyes, and he nodded.
This scene, like the sharpest ice pick, brutally shattered Kuroba Toichi's last possibility of self-deception!
"Aaaahhh—!!!"
The roar, suppressed to the extreme, finally broke through his throat, only to be swallowed back, mostly muffled by him biting his lip, turning into a heavy, trapped-beast's lament in his chest. It wasn't just anger, but the more biting truth and betrayal that had long been buried deep within, now erupting intertwined with the scene before his eyes!
A Marriage of Convenience... yes, he and Chie had a Marriage of Convenience. For their respective goals, to hide certain secrets. They treated each other with "icy" respect and never consummated the marriage. Kaito... Kaito wasn't even Chie's biological son! He was an orphan with special talents whom Toichi had rescued from an accidental laboratory disaster and a family conspiracy. He raised him under the name of "son" to give him a relatively normal identity and shelter. Chie knew this well and tacitly agreed to the arrangement.
He thought this was just an unspoken secret between them, a necessary expediency under special circumstances. He even felt a trace of guilt toward Chie because he couldn't give her a normal marriage and love, and Chie seemed to have always kept her distance, focusing on her own affairs (now that he thought about it, those "affairs"...).
But he never expected it! Chie had long ago... long ago become Kanjuro's woman! Judging by that posture, by those eyes, it hadn't happened overnight! She had been lurking by his side, this "Phantom Lady," his legal wife, who turned out to be the deepest, most poisonous chess piece Kanjuro had planted next to him! And he, like a complete fool, thought he was in control of the situation!
Then... Kaito's death!
The screen suddenly switched to a blurred video clip—a segment he had painstakingly recovered using Hacking Techniques from a Secondary Database within the Organization that had been erased, a clip terrifying enough to shatter his guts and liver:.
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