Chapter 95: Halloween Party
Conan felt a sudden, ice-cold grip clamp down on his wrist. He whipped his head around. Ai Haibara stood frozen, her pupils dilated in pure, unadulterated terror as she stared at the sleek black car idling just ahead. A second later, she violently yanked her gaze away, shrinking down and practically burying herself behind Genta Kojima's broad back. Her entire frame trembled like a leaf in a winter gale.
Conan's mind raced. 'The Black Organization.' It made perfect sense now. The occupants hadn't stepped out of the vehicle earlier because the police were swarming the area. It was too risky for them to show their faces.
He locked his eyes on the tinted windows, desperate to catch even a fleeting glimpse of the figures inside before the engine revved. His current child-sized body was the perfect cover. He could easily feign concern for Klee, trot over to the window, and casually plant a micro-tracker or a listening bug under the chassis.
He shifted his weight to sprint forward, but a firm hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder.
"Conan, what are you spacing out for?" Mona's voice cut through the tense air, light but carrying an edge of finality. "Let's go, it's getting late. I'll take you kids home."
She caught the restless, calculating gleam in the little detective's oversized glasses. Heh. Not on her watch. She absolutely wasn't about to give this trouble-magnet the chance to stir up chaos.
Conan struggled for a split second, but Mona's grip was surprisingly unyielding. By the time he managed to wrench his shoulder free and look up, Kaeya's car had already merged into the evening traffic, its taillights fading into the distance.
His arms dropped to his sides. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he obediently fell into step with the rest of the group. Another golden opportunity to peel back the layers of the Organization had just slipped right through his fingers.
However... Conan cast a sharp, inquiring glance at Mona's retreating back. Did she stop him just now because she noticed his intentions, or was her timing just a frustratingly perfect coincidence?
Meanwhile, inside the smooth, quiet cabin of Kaeya's car, the atmosphere was a strange mix of tense and comical. Klee was strapped securely into the front passenger seat, but she simply couldn't sit still. She kept twisting around against her seatbelt, her bright red eyes peering curiously at the figures in the back. Her gaze kept zeroing in on Cointreau. In the short span of their drive, the little Spark Knight had already sneaked no less than ten blatant peeks at him.
Noticing the intense scrutiny and half-worried that the notoriously moody executive might lose his temper, Bourbon leaned forward with an amused smirk. "Klee, why do you keep staring at this big brother?" he asked, his tone dripping with faux sweetness. "Do you think he's good-looking?"
Klee nodded vigorously, her blonde pigtails bouncing. "Yeah! Klee thinks this big brother is just as pretty as the big sister!"
Bourbon burst into genuine laughter, the sound filling the confined space. He turned his head, shooting Cointreau a highly teasing look. "Well, look at that. Even a child thinks you're as pretty as a girl."
Bourbon naturally assumed the little girl was just confusing genders. After all, children her age often blurred those lines. Combined with Cointreau's striking features—the long, golden-blonde hair woven into a neat braid, the piercing golden eyes, and his somewhat delicate, refined facial structure—it was perfectly logical for a kid to think he looked feminine. Bourbon completely missed the hidden context: Klee's "big sister" referred to a very specific, very real person.
Cointreau didn't even dignify the jab with a verbal response. He simply rolled his golden eyes at Bourbon, his expression flat. He offered Klee a faint, surprisingly gentle smile, then turned his head to stare out the darkened window, radiating an aura that clearly screamed he did not want to be bothered.
The moment the front door of Dr. Agasa's house clicked shut behind Mona, the facade dropped.
Ai Haibara spun around, her icy blue eyes boring directly into Conan. "Are those people with the Visions connected to the Black Organization?" she demanded, her voice tight with suppressed panic. "Did you know about this all along?"
Conan rubbed the back of his neck, knowing his cover was completely blown. He guided her to the living room sofa and quietly recounted the events that had unfolded after the magic show.
"Listen," he said softly, trying to inject some warmth into his tone to ease her trembling. "So far, I've only seen Kaeya make contact with them. It doesn't automatically mean that everyone who wields a Vision is an operative for the Organization. If we look at this optimistically, it might just be Kaeya acting on his own agenda. Besides, think about Klee, Mona, and Xiangling. Do they honestly strike you as the type of people who would associate with a ruthless criminal syndicate?"
Haibara wrapped her arms around herself, her knuckles turning white. "But it's too dangerous! You have no way of knowing if the Black Organization will leak information about the APTX4869 victims to Kaeya. They are living right next to us, Conan! If they figure out who we really are, then everyone around us..."
Conan lowered his head. The overhead living room light caught the edge of his glasses, turning the lenses into opaque, glowing white disks. When he spoke, his voice was stripped of any childlike innocence; it was the firm, unyielding vow of Shinichi Kudo. "Don't worry. I absolutely will not let danger touch the people around us. Especially Ran."
He lifted his head, offering Haibara a reassuring, confident smile. "You need to relax. Just keep interacting with them exactly as you have been. If you suddenly turn cold or avoid them, that will only draw unwanted suspicion. Think about it—ever since we met Xiangling, Klee, and the rest, hasn't everything been perfectly fine? Their daily lives are completely transparent. It proves they don't have any real ties to the crows. The only wild card right now is Kaeya."
Haibara stared at his resolute expression for a long moment. She knew that stubborn glint in his eye; he had already made up his mind to use Kaeya as a stepping stone to investigate the Black Organization. Trying to talk him out of it would be like talking to a brick wall.
"I just hope you think carefully about your sister Ran before you make a move," she murmured, offering one final, chilling reminder. "Don't drag them down into the abyss with you."
Standing awkwardly by the kitchen counter, Dr. Agasa had been watching the two shrink-victims argue with a helpless expression. Seeing the tension finally bleed out of the room as they reached a silent consensus, the elderly inventor let out a massive sigh of relief. He patted his pockets, hurriedly pulled out a crisp envelope he had retrieved from Shinichi's mailbox earlier that day, and handed it over.
"A Halloween party?!" Kogoro Mouri's bewildered shout echoed through the cluttered office of the Mouri Detective Agency. He slammed his beer can onto the desk, frowning deeply. "It's not even October! What kind of idiot throws a Halloween party now?"
Ran Mouri stood near the sofa, holding a high-quality, jet-black envelope. She scanned the elegant cursive on the card inside. "Well, it says right here that it's an out-of-season costume party."
Kogoro picked up a toothpick, completely unimpressed. "Yeah, yeah. So, what else does the invitation say?"
"Um... this letter says..." Ran hesitated, her eyes darting nervously toward her father. She cleared her throat, reading the opening line with a wince. "To the incompetent Detective, Mr. Kogoro Mouri..."
"Hahaha—"
The sound of Kogoro's forced, grinding laughter filled the room. A thick, angry vein throbbed violently at his temple. As Ran nervously finished reading the rest of the mocking invitation, Kogoro's face twisted into a fierce, predatory grin. He slammed his fist onto the desk, rattling the ashtray.
"Oh, I'm going," Kogoro growled, cracking his knuckles. "I am absolutely attending this little masquerade. I'm going to find whoever sent this garbage and give them a massive piece of my mind!"
He spun his desk chair around, glaring at his daughter. "By the way, Ran, who exactly is the clueless punk who sent this? Who has the guts to challenge me?"
Ran flipped the dark envelope over, her brow furrowing in confusion as she read the wax-sealed signature. "It seems to be a foreigner. The name signed here is... Vermouth."
The afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the Mouri Detective Agency, casting long shadows across the floor. It was the day before the infamous Halloween party.
Ran stood near the glass panes, quietly chatting on the phone. Behind her, the office had been temporarily transformed into a chaotic dressing room. Sonoko Suzuki was in her element, wielding makeup brushes and palettes like a seasoned artist as she aggressively applied theatrical makeup to a grumbling Kogoro Mouri.
Sitting patiently in the chair next to him was Natsume.
Yes, surprisingly enough, Natsume had also received one of the jet-black invitations.
Initially, she had been on the fence about attending. Her knowledge of the original plot told her that this entire cruise party was nothing more than an elaborate, theatrical trap set by Vermouth. The goal was to isolate and draw away Ran and Conan—though, as Natsume recalled, the plan ultimately fell apart, and no one was actually lured away as intended.
But the fact that Vermouth had gone out of her way to send an invitation to her changed the dynamic entirely. It had to be because of her older brother. Back at Teitan High School, when Natsume had crossed paths with Dr. Tomoaki Araide—who was, in reality, Vermouth in a flawless disguise—the master of disguise must have recognized her facial features. She had connected the dots, realizing Natsume was the younger sister of Cointreau.
Natsume suppressed a heavy sigh, letting Sonoko dab foundation onto her cheek. She honestly hadn't expected her idiot brother's current identity to be so deeply entrenched in the criminal underworld. Aether wasn't just a grunt; he held a terrifyingly high position among the crows. If Kaeya hadn't casually dropped that bombshell on her, she probably wouldn't have believed it.
Thinking about it made a fresh wave of sullen irritation bubble up in her chest. That stupid Aether, she grumbled internally. He had actively sought out an opportunity to meet with Kaeya and reveal his true identity, yet he hadn't bothered to find a way to tell his own sister? What was he playing at?
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