Chapter 361: The Pitch-Black Mystery Train 3
"Mr. Mouri, and Natsume... long time no see. It seems fate has brought us together on this Mystery Train."
The smooth, familiar voice drifted down the narrow, carpeted corridor. Natsume paused, a heavy sigh already building in her chest before she even turned around. Sure enough, standing there with an impeccably polite smile was her brother, perfectly slipped into his 'Morikawa Shiro' persona.
She stared at him, utterly speechless. Her shoulders dropped in a helpless slump. Why did he have to crash this specific party? Today's carefully crafted plan had absolutely nothing to do with him. Yet here he was, deliberately weaving himself into the main cast's orbit. Was he completely fearless of blowing his cover?
Natsume mentally tallied the roster of Black Organization members currently aboard the train. It was a complete joke. Not a single one of them was actually loyal to the crows. Bourbon was an undercover agent playing all sides. Sherry had outright defected. Vermouth's loyalties had long since fractured, her heart irrevocably swayed toward her precious 'Angel'and'Cool Guy.' And then there was Cointreau—Aether himself—who spent half his time actively sabotaging the very syndicate he supposedly served.
Catching Natsume's sharp, reprimanding glare, Aether offered a brief, almost apologetic smile that didn't reach his eyes. He smoothly pivoted, extending a polite greeting to Kogoro Mouri. The moment Kogoro boasted about being selected as a special accomplice for the train's onboard detective game, Aether's eyes lit up with feigned fascination. He immediately requested to tag along. Naturally, the oblivious detective welcomed the extra audience with open arms.
With no room for Natsume to object without breaking character, the newly expanded group continued their trek down the corridor toward Carriage 7, Room B.
The designated 'victim' for this particular murder mystery was Etsuto Murobashi, the current occupant of Room B. Clearly briefed on the scripted room swap, the man was already packing his things when they arrived. He vacated the compartment with brisk efficiency, pausing only to instruct Kogoro to remain on standby in the carriage corridor. The sleeping sleuth was supposed to deliver the grand deduction at the game's climax.
As they shuffled into the newly emptied room, they crossed paths with Sera Masumi. The tomboyish detective naturally slotted herself into the gathering, lingering in Room B alongside Ran and the others.
Sera leaned against the doorframe, her sharp, inquisitive gaze locking onto the unfamiliar face in their midst. "And who might this be?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes calculating.
Aether offered a flawless, disarming smile. "I am Morikawa Shiro. I had the pleasure of meeting Detective Mouri, Ran, and the others during a previous case. Seeing as fate has brought us together on this magnificent train, I thought it only right to catch up with old acquaintances."
"Met during a case, huh..." Sera crossed her arms, her wariness practically radiating in the confined space. She leaned in slightly, probing for a crack in his polite facade. "Does that mean Mr. Morikawa is also a detective?"
"Oh, I'm certainly no detective," Aether chuckled, smoothly deflecting the suspicion. He effortlessly turned the conversational tide. "However, I have heard from Sonoko that you are quite the sleuth yourself, Miss Sera. Though, with so many brilliant minds aboard this train, I do wonder if you'll be the one to successfully crack the mystery game."
It was true. Aether possessed Sonoko's contact information—and Ran's, for that matter. Given his carefully crafted persona as a wealthy, charming gentleman, there was zero chance Suzuki Sonoko would have let him slip away without exchanging numbers.
Naturally, while Aether occasionally indulged Sonoko's enthusiastic text messages, he kept his digital distance from Ran. If he communicated with her too frequently, Conan—who lived under the same roof and possessed a terrifyingly sharp radar for danger—would have inevitably discovered the horrifying truth: that his precious childhood friend was casually texting a high-ranking executive of the Black Organization.
Sera's posture stiffened. Her instincts flared, interpreting Morikawa's polite inquiry as a veiled provocation. A shadow crossed her features, and she leveled a mildly hostile glare at the smiling man. "It seems Mr. Morikawa doesn't think very highly of my chances in this little game."
Aether widened his eyes in a masterclass of feigned innocence. "Not at all. It's simply that with so many seasoned professionals present, I merely worry the competition might be a bit fierce for you, Miss Sera."
Sera narrowed her eyes. Isn't that exactly what he just said? She couldn't shake the creeping sensation that this stranger was deliberately targeting her, poking at her pride with a velvet-gloved finger.
Beneath his pleasant exterior, Aether stifled a sigh. What an utterly troublesome family, he mused silently. She is a headache, her mother is a nightmare, and her brother is the biggest nuisance of them all.
The tense atmosphere shattered as the compartment door suddenly slid open with a loud clatter. A breathless group of children, led by a frantic Conan, tumbled into the room. They had separated from the older teens shortly after boarding, and upon realizing the compartment was occupied by Ran and the others, the kids froze in collective bewilderment.
"You brats should really learn the courtesy of knocking before barging into a room," Sonoko scolded, planting her hands on her hips with an irritated scowl.
Conan ignored the reprimand. Having just received a mysterious envelope and witnessed the staged 'shooting' of Etsuto Murobashi in what he thought was this exact location, his brain was scrambling to process the discrepancy. He blinked, his eyes darting around the cabin. "Ah... this is Carriage 7... right?"
Fully immersed in her role for the mystery game, Sera crossed her arms and flatly denied it.
Conan stared at her, utterly derailed. '?'
While the miniature detective stood there mentally recounting the train cars, he completely failed to notice the trembling girl shrinking behind Genta's bulky frame. Haibara Ai gripped the brim of her cap, pulling it down so hard her knuckles turned white. Her face was entirely drained of color, a mask of pure, unadulterated terror.
She had barely recovered from the shock of spotting a man in black who bore a terrifying resemblance to Rye just moments ago in the corridor. Her racing heart had only just begun to settle. Yet now, stepping into this room, that unmistakable, bone-chilling aura of the Organization slammed into her like a physical blow. It was radiating from the space right beside Mouri Ran. This time, the oppressive pressure was infinitely more suffocating than before. It wrapped around her throat like icy fingers, making it impossible to draw a full breath.
"Hello, Conan. It's been a while."
Aether stepped sideways, shifting out from behind Natsume's concealing silhouette. He offered the boy a warm, perfectly friendly greeting.
Conan flinched as if he'd been struck by lightning. "Why are you here?!" he blurted out, his voice cracking in sheer shock. Every alarm bell in his head began screaming. He instinctively started to whip his head around to check on Haibara, terrified of what the man might do to her, but managed to lock his neck muscles at the very last millisecond. Don't draw attention to her. Don't look.
From the corner of her eye, Sera noted Conan's violent reaction. The kid's usual arrogant composure had vanished, replaced by an intense, bristling wariness directed entirely at Morikawa Shiro.
"You brat, that's incredibly rude!" Sonoko huffed, deeply offended on the handsome gentleman's behalf. She waved her hands in a shooing motion. "Alright, now that you know this isn't Carriage 7, hurry up and get out. Kids shouldn't be interrupting the adults while we're trying to have a conversation."
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