Hattori Heizo raised his hand, signaling the almost out-of-control Heiji Hattori to stay calm. His deep gaze was like an ancient well, firmly locked onto Kanjuro. It was no longer just scrutiny, but a heavy sense of near-sentence.
"So," Hattori Heizo's voice was low and slow, carrying a sense of pressure like a mountain storm about to break, "so far, every single case we've discussed—the Yukinoshita Family, the Suzuki Zaibatsu, Kiyomizu Temple, Ginshiro Toyama, and even those innocent primary school students and teachers... all these numerous blood-stained crimes, you are determined not to admit to any of them, is that right?"
Kanjuro met the other's gaze without a hint of wavering. He even spread his hands quite relaxedly, his shoulders shrugging slightly, his tone matter-of-fact and carrying a hint of provocation:
"Of course! In the absence of any evidence, why should I admit to things that never happened?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a sudden change occurred!
The hand that Hattori Heizo had been keeping under the table suddenly lifted! In his hand was a pitch-black handgun, its cold muzzle pointed precisely at the center of Kanjuro's brow! The movement was so fast and decisive that he had clearly prepared for the worst!
"Ah—!" Kazuha screamed in shock at this sudden turn of events. Looking at that dark muzzle, her mind went blank. But in the next second, a near-instinctive impulse drove her—she suddenly stood up from her seat, spread her arms, and unhesitatingly blocked the space in front of Kanjuro, facing the deadly muzzle with her own body!
"What are you doing?!" Kazuha's voice was sharp with fear and excitement. She looked at Hattori Heizo in disbelief, then at the grim-faced Heiji Hattori. "Uncle Heizo! Heiji! You have no evidence! What right do you have to do this to Brother Kanjuro?! You're breaking the law!"
"Kazuha! Wake up!!" Heiji Hattori watched the girl he loved actually use her body to protect the demon he had identified. His heart twisted in pain, and rage rushed to his head. "Look at him! The Yukinoshita family, the Suzuki Family, those children! And your father! Everyone who gets close to him meets a miserable end! He's scum! A degenerate! What kind of spell has he put on you?!"
"You're wrong! Heiji!" Kazuha guarded Kanjuro closely, her eyes tearful but her tone exceptionally stubborn. She looked back affectionately at Kanjuro, who was still sitting steadily, as if drawing endless strength from him. "I don't need to rely on other people's accusations to judge what kind of person Brother Kanjuro is! I only believe my own feelings! He's good to me, and he stayed with me when I was in the most pain. That's enough! I believe him!"
At that moment, Conan, who had been calmly observing, used his immature but highly penetrating voice to throw out a question that struck the core and made the scene even more chaotic:
"Kazuha-neechan!" Conan stared at her intently. "You, and Ran-neechan... have you both... already had a sexual relationship with Kanjuro?"
This question was like the sharpest dagger, instantly piercing through all disguises.
Kazuha's body stiffened abruptly, and the color drained from her face. Her posture of blocking Kanjuro remained unchanged, but she subconsciously lowered her head, not daring to look at the despair and disbelief that instantly filled Heiji Hattori's eyes. A massive sense of shame intertwined with an impulse to throw caution to the wind. After a few seconds of silence, she used a voice as faint as a mosquito's hum, yet clearly audible, to admit the cruel truth toward Heiji Hattori's direction:
"...Ye... Yes..."
Those two words were like a final death knell, tolling in Heiji Hattori's heart.
He staggered back a step, looking at the childhood friend he had protected for over a decade, who once had a brilliant smile, but now defended that demon as if brainwashed, even personally admitting to having the most intimate relationship with him... All the anger, unwillingness, and heartache turned into a cold, dead silence and complete despair at this moment.
The light in his eyes went out.
Hattori Heizo's hand holding the gun remained steady, but his gaze became more complex. He knew things had reached the worst possible state. Kazuha's complete defection and Heiji's mental breakdown cast a thicker tragic shadow over this originally planned "clearing" operation.
And Kanjuro, who was protected by Kazuha, sat there steadily from beginning to end, as if the tension, love, and hatred caused by him were just a farce that had nothing to do with him. He even raised his hand and gently patted Kazuha's back, which was trembling slightly from tension, the movement carrying a nearly cruel sense of "comfort."
(See, this is so-called emotion—how fragile, how easily distorted.)
(Truly... a delightful sight.)
The air in the tea room seemed to freeze into ice. Murderous intent, despair, distorted love, shattered beliefs... everything intertwined, turning this ancient Mansion into a cruel arena of emotion and fate. Under the muzzle of the gun, there was the girl protecting the demon, the heartbroken boy, the cold and resolute father, and one more... the smiling bystander who seemed to control everything. The string in Heiji Hattori's mind called 'reason' snapped completely upon hearing Kazuha personally admit her relationship with Kanjuro. Extreme anger, heartache, and a desperate impulse to let everything go to hell merged into a destructive urge.
(Kill him! Just kill him!)
(As long as he makes a move against me, or dies before my eyes! Kazuha will see his true colors! She'll understand who truly cares about her!)
This thought was like a curse, driving him to let out a beast-like roar and suddenly pounce toward Kanjuro! His movement was too fast, too sudden, exceeding even the expectations of the armed Hattori Heizo!
"Heiji! Stop!" Hattori Heizo shouted sternly, trying to intervene, but it was too late.
In Heiji Hattori's eyes, there was only Kanjuro's face with its mocking smile. He snatched the gun from his father's hand! The cold touch of metal made him even more crazed. He turned the muzzle without hesitation, the dark barrel pointing straight at Kanjuro's chest, and pulled the trigger!
"No—!" Kazuha let out a piercing scream, instinctively trying to block with her body again.
However, this time, Kanjuro moved.
At the moment Heiji Hattori snatched the gun and aimed, Kanjuro's deep "Eye of Truth" had already seen through all his naive and desperate thoughts—wanting to use death to reveal the "truth"? Ridiculous.
In a flash, instead of dodging, Kanjuro extremely "skilfully" reached out at the critical moment and gently pushed away Kazuha, who had pounced forward to protect him!
This movement was subtle and swift. To Kazuha and the others, it looked as if Kanjuro had resolutely pushed her away to protect her, choosing to face death himself.
Almost simultaneously—
Bang!
The gunshot exploded in the enclosed Japanese-style room, deafeningly loud.
The bullet accurately (or rather, "was" accurately, under Kanjuro's subtle body adjustment) avoided his vital heart, yet still tore through his chest. Blood gushed out instantly, staining his light-colored clothes red.
Kanjuro groaned, the composed smile on his face finally vanishing, replaced by a pale weakness as he endured the pain. His body swayed and he fell backward.
"Kanjuro-niisan!!" Kazuha staggered a step after being pushed. Turning back, she saw the scene of Kanjuro being shot and falling. In that moment, her world seemed to collapse. She wailed and pounced over, kneeling on the ground, trembling as she held Kanjuro's upper body in her arms. Seeing the continuously gushing blood, she was scared out of her wits.
"Heiji!! You trash! Scum! Bastard!!" She suddenly raised her head, face covered in tears, and roared with all her strength at the stunned Heiji Hattori, her eyes filled with unprecedented hatred and disappointment. "You actually fired! You actually tried to kill him! I will never forgive you!!"
On the other side, Hattori Shizuka, who had been forcing herself to remain calm, also completely broke down the moment she saw Kanjuro shot and falling. All disguises, family, and her son were thrown to the back of her mind at this moment. She cried out, no longer caring about anything else, and staggered over to Kanjuro's other side. Looking at the striking blood, her heart ached so much she could barely breathe, and tears streamed down her face.
"Kanjuro... Kanjuro..." Her hands trembled as she wanted to press down on the wound but didn't dare, only able to call his name helplessly.
Kanjuro lay weakly in the arms of the two women, his face pale and his breath faint. His gaze "struggled" to look at the tearful Kazuha, his mouth working to pull into a comforting, extremely "gentle" smile as he spoke in a voice as thin as silk:
"Kazuha... don't cry... as long as you... are okay... it's fine..."
These words were like the final catalyst, completely igniting Kazuha's hatred for Heiji Hattori and her absolute devotion to Kanjuro. She held Kanjuro tightly, crying heart-wrenchingly, as if venting all her fear and love.
Heiji Hattori stood blankly on the spot, the gun in his hand falling to the floor with a "clatter." He watched this scene—Kanjuro "heroically" pushing Kazuha away, "unfortunately" getting shot, and falling into the arms of two women, becoming a perfect "victim" and "protector"; while he himself became the "attempted murderer trash" in Kazuha's words.
All his calculations, all his anger, all his "for her own good" turned into blades stabbing himself at this moment. Not only did he fail to reveal Kanjuro's true colors, but he also personally pushed Kazuha further away, completely becoming the most pathetic and hateful villain in this tragic play meticulously directed by Kanjuro.
Hattori Heizo's face was ashen. Looking at his son's soul-crushed state, at Kanjuro who lay in a pool of blood yet controlled the entire situation, and at his completely defected sister and the deluded girl, he knew they had lost this confrontation utterly. Kanjuro didn't even need to lift a finger; he used Heiji's impulsiveness to perfectly consolidate his position in everyone's hearts, especially... carving an indelible mark of hatred in Kazuha's heart for his sake.
Blood spread across the tatami mats, and the sounds of crying and despair filled the tea room. Kanjuro closed his eyes, feeling the warm embrace and anxious calls of the two women, listening to the sound of Heiji Hattori's beliefs collapsing, his inner self a cold void of calm.
(A perfect result.)
(Anger is always the best weapon to exploit.)
(Now, it's time to harvest...) Kanjuro's chest was already heavily stained with blood. His breathing grew fainter, his face pale as paper, every word seemingly using up his last strength. He lay in the arms of Kazuha and Hattori Shizuka, but his gaze was locked firmly on Heiji Hattori, who stood frozen in fear and shock with the handgun dropped beside him.
His fingers trembled, moving with extreme "difficulty." Finally, he touched the cold handgun that had fallen to the floor. Using all his "strength," he bit by bit, tremblingly pushed the gun, which still smelled of gunpowder, toward Kazuha's hand.
"Ka... Kazuha..." His voice was faint as silk, yet his eyes carried a heartbreaking expectation and entrustment. "Take... take it... a... avenge me... okay?"
These words were like a final spell, completely igniting the overwhelming hatred and desire for destruction in Kazuha's heart caused by Kanjuro's "heavy injury." Looking at her dying lover in her arms, seeing how he was "thinking" of her even while near death, that distorted love and protective urge instantly reached a peak.
"Kanjuro-niisan!" She cried, grabbing the heavy handgun without hesitation, as if seizing the scepter of revenge. She leaned down, ignoring the blood on his lips, and kissed his cold lips deeply with a sense of resolution and undying commitment, as if performing a death vow.
"No... Kazuha! Don't!" Seeing this, Heiji Hattori felt his heart and gall split with fear. He wanted to rush forward to stop her, but his feet felt like they were filled with lead and couldn't move. The bullet he had personally fired became the final push that sent his beloved into the demon's abyss.
Kanjuro "weakly" endured the kiss, as if drawing final strength from it. He gently pushed Kazuha away, his voice intermittent but carrying an unquestionable guidance:
"I... I have no strength now... Kazuha... you... you listen to me now..."
"We... must... leave... here... as soon as possible..."
His gaze moved with difficulty, finally landing on that small figure in the corner who had been trying to stay calm and find an opportunity—Conan Edogawa.
At this moment, Conan was taking advantage of everyone's attention being focused on Kanjuro and Kazuha to quietly step back. His ankle moved slightly, and the Power-Enhancing Kick Shoes' mechanism had already activated, an inflatable soccer ball quickly popping out and expanding! His goal was clear—to accurately kick away the dangerous handgun in Kazuha's hand!
However, at the moment Conan was ready to strike!
Kanjuro's eyes, which had been "unfocused," suddenly flashed with a cold clarity! He seemed to have anticipated all this. His hand, which had appeared to hang limply, now suddenly grabbed Kazuha's wrist like an iron pincer!
"See... that... elementary student... there?" Kanjuro's voice suddenly took on an eerie strength, guiding Kazuha's arm and vision. "He... wants to... stop... us..."
Before Kazuha could fully react, Kanjuro gripped her wrist and forcibly moved her arm, instantly pointing the dark muzzle at Conan, who was just about to kick the ball!
Bang—!
Another gunshot tore through the air!
The bullet wasn't aimed at a vital spot, but rather precisely (or rather, maliciously) shot at Conan's left leg!
"Ah—!" Conan let out a pained scream, his small body shuddering violently as he lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground! The inflatable soccer ball rolled away weakly. His left leg was instantly soaked in blood, the intense pain making him curl up, cold sweat beading on his forehead, rendering him unable to take any effective action.
"Kudo!!" Heiji Hattori's eyes widened in fury as he tried to rush over to check on Conan's injury.
"Don't move!" Kazuha, now like a completely controlled marionette, turned the gun under Kanjuro's "guidance," trembling yet firmly aiming it at Heiji Hattori and the advancing Hattori Heizo, her eyes filled with a crazed killing intent. "No one comes any closer! Or I'll shoot!"
Hattori Shizuka was also stunned by this sudden turn of events, but seeing Kanjuro's "weak" yet still commanding presence, her twisted admiration and love grew even stronger. She simply held him tightly, as if he were her entire world.
Kanjuro watched Conan writhing in pain on the ground, the Hattori father and son held at gunpoint, and Kazuha, completely obedient to his commands and transformed into an avenging goddess (or rather, a killing tool). A faint, icy, satisfied smile finally appeared on his pale face.
(That troublesome brat... one down.)
(Now... time to leave.)
Supported by Kazuha and Hattori Shizuka, he struggled to his feet, each step leaving a crimson bloodstain. Kazuha covered the rear with the gun, her eyes scanning the Hattori father and son with vigilant madness, protecting Kanjuro as they retreated step by step from the tearoom.
Heiji Hattori watched Kazuha's completely unfamiliar, hate-filled, murderous gaze, the fallen Conan, and the departing Kanjuro. An unprecedented sense of despair and helplessness completely overwhelmed him. He had lost, utterly defeated—not only losing the girl he loved but also endangering his friend, and perhaps... personally unleashing an even more terrifying demon armed with hatred.
Outside the Mansion, the night was thick. Kanjuro and the two women disappeared through the doorway, leaving behind only a room in disarray, the pungent smell of blood, and endless regret and despair.
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