Chapter 317: Bourbon's Investigation
"After all, the Detective Boys were well aware of your movements last night," Subaru Okiya said, his voice calm and measured. "They saw with their own eyes that you returned to your room to sleep."
Conan opened his mouth, the phantom sensation of impending death still lingering like ash in his throat, but he hesitated. Before the young detective could voice his protests, Subaru adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the ambient light of the room.
"Of course, we cannot entirely rule out the possibility that it actually happened. If you weren't dreaming last night, then I can only think of one plausible explanation..." Subaru let the sentence hang in the air.
Conan's eyes widened as the realization clicked into place.
"Holographic projection technology," they murmured in perfect unison.
It made a terrifying amount of sense. The nearly flawless holographic projections used at yesterday's performance venue could have easily deceived his senses, not to mention Ayumi and the other children. Yet, a nagging flaw remained. Achieving that level of hyper-realistic visual fidelity required a massive array of heavy equipment, specialized lenses, and power generators. Could someone have secretly set up such an elaborate apparatus in the desolate, empty environment surrounding the pavilion last night?
"However, yesterday's situation was entirely sudden," Subaru noted, echoing Conan's internal doubts. "There would have been no time to prepare the necessary equipment in advance., you admitted that you retain fragmented memories of Mr. Kamisato carrying you back to your room. A holographic projection is merely a trick of the light; it cannot alter physical memories or the sensation of being moved. Therefore, Conan, the most logical conclusion is that you were simply trapped in an incredibly vivid nightmare."
Faced with Subaru's airtight logic, Conan found himself reluctantly leaning toward that exact conclusion. Yet, beneath the table, his hands curled into tight fists. The suffocating, icy grip of death had felt far too real to be a mere figment of his imagination. Was it really just a dream? Unable to find a concrete counterargument, the young detective forced himself to swallow his paranoia, burying his doubts deep within his mind for the time being.
Meanwhile, under the cover of the previous night's darkness, Bourbon and Vermouth had quietly parted ways after observing the performance. Vermouth had sped off into the neon-lit streets, eager to return to the Organization's base to deliver her report on the Osaka investigation. Bourbon, however, retreated to the quiet solitude of his safe house.
Stripping off his jacket, he completely ignored the late hour and dialed his subordinate. On the other end of the line, Yuya Kazami jolted awake. Though frustration boiled in the Public Security Bureau agent's chest at being disturbed in the dead of night, he didn't dare voice a single word of complaint. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Kazami dutifully dragged himself out of bed to compile the requested intelligence.
In truth, organizing the files was hardly a monumental task—the findings were frustratingly sparse. This glaring lack of information was precisely why Kazami had delayed reporting to his superior; he had desperately wanted to dig up something substantial before facing Furuya. But with Bourbon demanding immediate results, Kazami had no choice but to guiltily hit 'send' on the meager digital dossier.
Sitting at his desk, Bourbon stared at the glowing screen of his laptop, massaging his temples as a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. After weeks of dedicated investigation into a single target, the resulting dossier was a pathetic compilation of less than ten pages. Sighing, he scrolled through the encrypted document once more, scanning every line for hidden clues.
The timeline of Natsume Natsuki's early years was relatively straightforward. The anomaly began with her sudden accident. The records indicated she had fallen into a deep coma, confined to a hospital bed for an extended period. The bizarre turning point occurred exactly when her older brother mysteriously vanished—that was the exact moment Natsume miraculously awoke.
The subsequent pages detailed her global travels, ostensibly a desperate search for her missing sibling. Yet, this section was infuriatingly vague. The PSB had only managed to track her international flights, listing the countries she had visited without a single specific address, contact, or detailed account of her activities abroad. It was as if she had turned into a ghost the moment she stepped off the planes.
Bourbon leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes narrowing. He was absolutely certain now: Natsume Natsuki was far from an ordinary civilian. She was hiding a massive secret. But what exactly was her true connection to the elusive executive, Cointreau?
His gaze drifted to the brief section dedicated to Natsume's brother. The file offered nothing but a name—Aether Natsume. There wasn't a single photograph attached. If Kazami had managed to procure even a blurry snapshot, Bourbon could have cross-referenced his facial features with Cointreau's. That alone might have confirmed whether the terrifying Black Organization executive was, in fact, the missing Aether.
But the timeline doesn't add up, Bourbon mused, tapping his fingers against the desk. Cointreau's history within the Organization stretched back decades, mirroring Vermouth's unnatural lack of aging. The man had to be incredibly old. Could Cointreau actually be her father? Or perhaps even her grandfather? The wild speculations spun endlessly in his mind, tangling into a complex web of conspiracy.
Beside his laptop lay a physical manila folder—the background check on Kamon Hatsune's fiancé. This was a side project he had handled personally, a convenient stepping stone carefully crafted to help him infiltrate the inner circle of the famous Sleeping Kogoro.
Pop! Pop!
"Raita, Hatsune, congratulations! You're finally tying the knot!"
A chorus of cheerful voices echoed through the lively restaurant. As the warm congratulations washed over the room, several party poppers erupted with a sharp crack. A vibrant shower of colorful confetti rained down, dusting the hair and shoulders of the beaming couple standing at the center of the celebration.
Shimmering streamers and faux rose petals drifted through the air, completely enveloping the venue in a joyous, festive atmosphere. The groom-to-be, Raita Bamba, wrapped a protective, affectionate arm around his fiancée, Hatsune Kamon. The two leaned into each other, their voices dropping into a soft, intimate murmur as they eagerly discussed their upcoming honeymoon plans. Their faces glowed with genuine happiness, radiating an absolute confidence in the beautiful future awaiting them after tomorrow's ceremony.
"Hey, you two lovebirds! You're making the rest of us jealous over here!" Kogoro Mouri called out from a nearby table, raising his glass with a boisterous, good-natured laugh.
"Oh, Mouri! It's been way too long!" Spotting his old high school friend, Raita grinned broadly and gently guided Hatsune over to the detective's table.
Even Hatsune was well-acquainted with the famous Sleeping Kogoro's reputation. She knew the renowned detective had a teenage daughter, but as she approached the table, she found herself momentarily confused. Two young women were seated beside him. Hatsune cast a polite, inquisitive glance between the two girls, trying to guess which one was the detective's child.
Catching the bride's curious look, the brunette smiled warmly and stood up. "Hello, I'm Kogoro's daughter, Ran Mouri." She then affectionately linked her arm with the blonde girl sitting next to her. "And this is my good friend, Natsume Natsuki."
"It's wonderful to meet you both," Natsume said, offering the happy couple a bright, polite nod. "Congratulations on your wedding."
Not wanting to be left out, the bespectacled boy sitting at the edge of the booth chimed in. "I'm Conan Edogawa!" he announced with practiced childlike innocence. "I'm currently staying at Uncle Mouri's house."
Kogoro reached over, vigorously ruffling Conan's hair until the boy winced. "Haha! Yeah, due to some special family circumstances, the little brat is crashing with us temporarily," the detective clarified, taking another hearty sip of his drink.
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