Kanjuro's tone was flat, yet carried an invisible pressure, as he gave a direct order:
"Gin must be nearby. Tell him, and those people behind you—"
He paused, every word crystal clear: "Where is Shiho Miyano right now?"
The other end of the line fell into a brief, dead silence; one could almost hear the abrupt cessation of Vodka's breathing. Then came a flurry of rustling, and the phone seemed to be quickly passed along.
"Moshi Moshi... Mr. Ye, Mr. Kanjuro?" This time, it was Gin's voice, deliberately suppressed yet still betraying a hint of tension. He had clearly been listening in.
"I don't like repeating questions." Kanjuro's voice dropped a degree in temperature.
Gin seemed to swallow on the other end, his voice coming out dryly: "Sherry... that is, Shiho Miyano, she... she is dead."
"Dead?" Kanjuro raised an eyebrow. His tone was unreadable, but an invisible pressure seemed to transmit through the electronic signal. "How is that possible? Your organization can't even cleanly deal with a rogue scientist?"
Gin hurriedly explained, his pace of speech unconsciously quickening, conveying an eagerness to distance himself from the matter: "She disappeared while in custody after taking the poison she developed herself, APTX4869! That drug... was originally designed to eliminate targets without leaving a trace, and its lethality rate is extremely high. We searched the scene and only found the clothes she left behind and some ashes. The body... was not found."
He paused, then added with a hint of uncertainty: "Of course, theoretically, there is an extremely low possibility of survival, but our organization has currently lost all trace of her whereabouts. She is most likely already..."
Before Gin could finish, Kanjuro suddenly laughed out loud, a deep, playful sound that interrupted Gin's statement.
"I see... APTX4869... disappeared after taking poison, only leaving clothes behind..." Kanjuro muttered to himself. The clues about Shinichi Kudo shrinking and becoming Conan Edogawa instantly connected in his mind—everything clicked. "I understand now. Shiho Miyano... must be hiding somewhere under the identity of 'Ai Haibara.'"
His tone became relaxed and certain: "In that case, all we need to do is find that brat named Conan, and everything will be solved."
He said no more, not even giving Gin a chance to speak again, and cut the call directly. Tossing the phone back onto the sofa, Kanjuro's lips curved into a predatory arc. Things were getting interesting.
On the other end of the line, listening to the dial tone, Gin remained frozen for a few seconds in the position of holding the phone before slowly lowering his arm. His perpetually cold face was now covered in a fine layer of cold sweat. Vodka, standing beside him, gasped for breath, as if he had just surfaced from underwater.
"B-Boss... Kanjuro... did he believe it?" Vodka asked, still shaken.
Gin took out a handkerchief, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and his eyes turned sinister: "Whether he believes it or not is irrelevant. What matters is that he won't directly come after us for Sherry's matter for now." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "That Plague God... if he truly decided that we hid Sherry, or if he took his anger out on us, the Organization..."
He didn't finish, but Vodka already understood the unspoken, terrifying meaning. He nodded vigorously, his face full of lingering fear: "Yes, Boss! Thank goodness, thank goodness Sherry defected long ago and her whereabouts are unknown! Otherwise... we really would be finished!"
The two exchanged glances, both seeing the relief of surviving a catastrophe in the other's eyes, and a deep, profound fear of Kanjuro's irresistible power. They felt as if they could already see how the Organization would collapse like a house of cards under his absolute strength and ruthless methods if they were to become his enemies.
In the darkness, Gin relit a cigarette. The smoke curled around him, but it couldn't dispel the heavy chill in his heart. Kanjuro's existence was like a Sword of Damocles, hanging over the entire Black Organization. And all they could do now was pray that the sword wouldn't fall too soon.
The morning sun shone through the gap in the curtains, casting light on Akemi Miyano's peaceful sleeping face. She slowly opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was Kanjuro, already fully dressed, sitting by the bed and gazing at her. His eyes were deep, betraying no emotion, yet they instinctively made Akemi's heart tighten.
"Awake?" Kanjuro's voice was calm.
Akemi propped herself up, the silk sheet slipping from her shoulder. She nodded, with a trace of morning grogginess and an almost imperceptible nervousness. "Ye Xiao Gege, good morning."
Kanjuro didn't beat around the bush; he cut straight to the chase, stating the information he had received from Gin last night—about Shiho Miyano "disappearing after taking poison, her fate unknown"—in the most concise language. He added no embellishments and didn't conceal Gin's mention of the "extremely low possibility of survival."
Akemi Miyano listened quietly, her fingers unconsciously clutching the bedsheet, her knuckles turning slightly white. When she heard the words "APTX4869," "only left clothes," and "body not found," her breathing clearly paused for a moment, and her face paled a little. No sister who cared for her younger sibling could remain completely calm upon hearing such news.
However, she did not collapse, question, or doubt like an ordinary person. After a brief silence and visible worry, she raised her eyes and gazed deeply into Kanjuro's. Her expression was complex, containing the instinctive fear for her sister's safety, but even more, a near-obsessive trust forged after the complete surrender of the previous night.
"I understand." Her voice was slightly hoarse but unusually steady. "I trust you, Ye Xiao Gege. As long as... as long as the Organization stops chasing my sister, as long as she has even a sliver of a chance to live..." She took a deep breath, as if seeking strength, "Then I feel that there is still hope for all of this."
She did not weep, nor become hysterical, nor even ask what Kanjuro planned to do. She simply expressed her trust, placing that faint hope in the words of the man before her.
Kanjuro looked at her, seeing her forced composure that still couldn't conceal her fragility. He reached out and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his finger, the action carrying the reassurance of someone in control of everything.
"Don't worry," his tone was certain, carrying a powerful, reassuring aura. "With me here, they wouldn't dare do anything to your sister. Gin and the others are probably praying right now that I won't go looking for trouble with them over this matter."
The corner of his mouth curved into a cold, confident arc.
"As for Shiho's whereabouts, 'dead'? Heh, not necessarily. I will find her. As long as she is alive, no matter what identity she uses or what corner of the world she hides in, I will bring her before you."
These words were less a promise and more an undeniable declaration. They dispelled the last trace of gloom and unease in Akemi Miyano's heart. Gazing at Kanjuro's certain eyes, the twisted yet solid trust in her heart once again gained the upper hand. Yes, with him around, even the entire Black Organization was terrified. Her sister's safety was indeed far more secure than when Akemi was struggling alone.
She leaned gently toward Kanjuro, resting her forehead on his arm, and whispered softly:
"Mm, I trust you. Always have."
The sunlight fully illuminated the room, enveloping the embracing pair. Akemi Miyano found temporary peace in the web Kanjuro wove, a mix of genuine power and illusory promises. Meanwhile, Kanjuro was already planning in his mind how to pluck the little girl, alias "Ai Haibara," from the vast crowd, completing yet another demonstration of his possessiveness toward the woman in his arms... or rather, toward his own control. Inside the Eri Kisaki Law Office, the atmosphere was professional and cool as always, but currently, an invisible domestic undercurrent permeated the air. Kanjuro's appearance here was like a massive stone thrown into a calm lake. His gaze swept over Eri Kisaki, who sat behind her desk with a complex expression tinged with subtle nervousness, and then landed on Ran, who was sitting on the nearby sofa, her eyes a mix of worry, confusion, and a hint of compliance.
"Daddy Kanjuro?" Ran instinctively stood up when she saw Kanjuro, a look of surprise on her face. Since learning that Kanjuro was her biological father, and about his terrifying true nature, her feelings were incredibly complex every time they met.
Kanjuro nodded slightly and cut straight to the point, his tone seemingly casual but carrying an undeniable probing quality: "It's nothing, I just suddenly realized I haven't seen that brat Conan in a while. Where has he been recently?"
Ran didn't doubt him and answered honestly: "Conan has been staying with Dad... staying at the Mouri Detective Agency." She paused, then couldn't help but ask, "Daddy Kanjuro, why are you suddenly asking about Conan?"
Kanjuro didn't immediately answer Ran's question. Instead, he turned his gaze to Eri Kisaki, a subtle, meaningful smile playing on his lips—a smile devoid of warmth, containing only a condescending scrutiny and... a declaration.
"Eri," his voice was steady, yet he dropped a bombshell, "I intend to dispose of Kogoro Mouri. You don't mind, do you?"
Eri Kisaki's fingers tightened abruptly around her pen, her knuckles turning white. She raised her eyes to meet Kanjuro's gaze. A fleeting flicker of emotion crossed the depths of her eyes—perhaps a remnant ripple from years of nominal marriage—but it was mostly a fatalistic coldness and detachment. She pushed up her glasses, her tone calm to the point of being robotic:
"He and I were only married by agreement to maintain the facade of a normal family. For so many years, we've been strangers, not interfering with each other. Who you choose to kill is your freedom; why bother asking me?" Her words showed no trace of defense for Kogoro Mouri, only an indifference that suggested it was none of her concern.
Ran, standing nearby, trembled slightly upon hearing this exchange. She lowered her head, sighed deeply, and when she looked up again, her face held a weariness and understanding that belied her age.
"Mom already... told me everything. About my origins, about the true nature of your relationship..." Ran's voice was very soft, carrying a trace of an imperceptible sob, but her eyes struggled to remain calm. "Daddy Kanjuro, I know I can't stop you. Do as you see fit... But, I... I still hope that you can stop killing people."
Her words were full of powerlessness; she could neither resist her demonic biological father nor completely extinguish the reverence for life and kindness in her heart.
Kanjuro looked at Ran, struggling and in pain yet forced to accept reality, and showed what could be called a "tender" smile. He stepped forward, reached out, and gently pulled Ran into his embrace. Ran's body stiffened for a moment, but she ultimately didn't resist, allowing him to hold her.
Kanjuro lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss onto Ran's lips. The kiss held no lust, but was full of possession and declaration. Ran closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling as she endured this twisted intimacy.
"Ran," Kanjuro's voice sounded in her ear, low and magnetic, yet speaking the cruelest truth, "You are still too young, and have experienced too little. The human heart is unpredictable; mercy toward enemies is cruelty toward yourself and those around you. Some troubles must be severed at the root."
He gently stroked her hair, his tone like that of someone instructing an ignorant child:
"When cutting weeds, you must remove the roots."
This sentence, like a final judgment, echoed coldly in the office. Eri Kisaki turned her face away to look out the window, unsure if she couldn't bear to watch or simply didn't want to intervene. Ran, in Kanjuro's arms, felt the suffocating 'fatherly love' mixed with cold murderous intent, and the last shred of innocent hope in her heart seemed to shatter completely.
No one could change Kanjuro's will. Kogoro Mouri's fate seemed to be sealed at this moment. Finding Conan Edogawa and ultimately dragging out Ai Haibara became a logical step in Kanjuro's plan. The storm was about to sweep over more innocent—or, in Kanjuro's eyes, "troublesome"—people.
Kanjuro, carrying a near-playful indifference, followed by the complicated-looking Eri Kisaki and a somewhat uneasy Ran, didn't knock. He simply pushed open the slightly worn wooden door of the Mouri Detective Agency.
The scene inside the door, however, instantly turned the anticipated confrontation into something bizarre and absurd.
Kogoro Mouri was standing with his back to the door, holding his phone, speaking in a hushed tone that held a seriousness and... a hint of hard-to-detect intimacy, completely unlike his usual rash demeanor.
"...I know, don't worry. I'll keep an eye on Kanjuro; the moment there's any sign of trouble, I'll..." His words were cut off halfway, seemingly interrupted by the person on the other end of the line.
Immediately afterward, Kogoro Mouri's voice suddenly became self-conscious, carrying a shyness completely incompatible with his age and image, even mixed with a slight blush (though he was facing away, his tone made it obvious): "...Yu-Yusaku... stop messing around... this... this is so embarrassing..."
On the other end of the line, Kudo Yusaku's voice faintly drifted through the receiver, carrying a clear, gentle, and one might even say affectionate, laugh: "Kogoro, give me a kiss of love. Just like before."
Kogoro Mouri gripped the phone, his body visibly stiffening as if engaged in a fierce internal struggle. Finally, as if compromising, he quickly pressed his lips to the phone microphone with a "smooch," producing a clear "phone kiss" sound that was exceptionally loud in the silent office. He then immediately hung up like a thief and let out a long sigh of relief.
Just as he turned around, ready to relax his strained nerves for a moment, he suddenly met three pairs of eyes at the doorway—Kanjuro's gaze filled with unconcealed mockery and disgust, Eri Kisaki's cold contempt that screamed "I knew it," and Ran's utterly petrified, stunned expression, as if her worldview had been hit by a nuclear bomb.
The air seemed to freeze.
Kogoro Mouri's face instantly went from slightly red to blazing crimson, then turned ashen pale. His mouth was open, his fingers still held the posture of gripping the phone, and his entire body was frozen in place as if struck by lightning.
Kanjuro was the first to break the deadly silence. He clapped softly, the curve of his lips full of sarcasm: "Truly... a deeply touching scene, Detective Mouri." His gaze swept over Kogoro Mouri, then seemed to pierce through him to Kudo Yusaku on the phone, "So you and that famous mystery novelist have such... 'profound' friendship. No wonder he's so 'concerned' about my affairs."
Eri Kisaki let out an extremely faint, heavily sarcastic snort and turned her head away, as if looking at him any longer would defile her. The reason for her years of "estranged cohabitation" with Kogoro Mouri now seemed far more complex than outsiders could have imagined.
Ran looked utterly shell-shocked. She looked at her pale, mortified father (foster father), then at her mocking biological father, and finally thought of Mr. Kudo Yusaku, whom she had always respected... She felt her brain was incapable of processing this overwhelmingly explosive information.
Kanjuro gracefully stepped into the office, as if what he had just witnessed was nothing more than a boring farce. He looked down at Kogoro Mouri, who had yet to recover from the social death and shock, and his tone became cold and deadly once more:
"It seems I need to re-evaluate the priority of dealing with you, Kogoro Mouri."
"Or rather, the pleasure of pulling out a thorn like you is much greater than I anticipated."
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