Chapter 374: The Jet-Black Mysterious Train 16
Toru Amuro kept a sharp eye on the tracking software glowing on his screen. He had initially retreated to the front carriages alongside Natsume and Conan, blending into the frantic crowd, only to slip away and return to Car No. 8 under the cover of the ongoing chaos.
His gaze locked onto the digital map of the carriage. A solitary, blinking dot—distinct from his own signal—was steadily approaching his position.
Amuro narrowed his eyes. His posture shifted from casual observation to predatory focus. The digital marker he had previously tagged as Kaitou Kid crossed the threshold into Car No. 8, inching closer to his concealed vantage point.
At first, Amuro assumed the phantom thief was merely seeking a temporary sanctuary, operating on the old adage that the most dangerous place was often the safest.
But the thick, acrid smoke drifting down the corridor began to part, and the silhouette that emerged shattered that theory entirely.
Amuro pressed his back against the cold metal paneling of the wall. A flicker of genuine surprise warped his usually composed, handsome features, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a spasm of disbelief. Through the hazy gray veil, the unmistakable figure of Sherry materialized. She leaned heavily against the train wall, coughing weakly as she dragged her feet forward.
Stepping out from the shadows of his cover, Amuro planted himself firmly in the center of the aisle, blocking "Sherry" from advancing any further.
"You have her face down to the absolute finest detail," Amuro said, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge. "Care to explain why you decided to wear her skin today, Kaitou Kid?"
The woman flinched, her brows knitting together in a flawless mask of confusion. "What are you talking about?" She let out a series of harsh, ragged coughs. "Aren't you the operative the Organization sent to capture me? How could you possibly mistake me for someone else?"
On the surface, Kid's disguise was an absolute masterpiece. Not a single muscle twitched out of place. Beneath the silicone mask, however, a cold sweat was rapidly pooling down his spine.
'That brat's plan is a complete disaster!' Kid screamed internally. He had barely stepped onto the stage, and his true identity was already blown wide open. Repaying favors was turning out to be an absolute nightmare. That miniature detective was nothing but a magnet for lethal trouble.
Miles away in the front carriages, Conan pressed a hand against his ear. Having finally ditched the surrounding passengers, he had tuned into the secure channel to coordinate with Kid, hoping the thief could handle the Organization members prowling the train.
Hearing Amuro's voice bleeding through Kid's earpiece sent a jolt of ice through Conan's veins. He never expected the Black Organization operatives to be lurking so dangerously close to Ran and the others.
Yet, the sheer proximity was nothing compared to the shock of hearing Amuro casually dismantle Kid's identity. How had the man seen through a flawless disguise the very second they made eye contact?
"It seems you..." Amuro's sharp gaze flicked toward the subtle curve of Kid's ear, catching the faint glint of the hidden earpiece. "No, let me rephrase that. The person feeding you lines seems to know quite a bit about the Organization."
"Have you completely lost your mind?" Kid shot back, stubbornly clinging to his character. "I used to be a high-ranking member of the Organization. Of course I know how it operates."
"Heh." A low, mocking sneer escaped Amuro's lips. "It hardly matters. Once I peel that fake face off your skull, I'll know exactly who you are. And then, I'll drag the rat hiding behind you out into the light!"
Without another word, Amuro lunged. His right hand slashed through the air, fingers hooking like talons aiming straight for the edge of Kid's mask.
Driven by pure instinct to protect his craft, Kid's hand shot up, his fingers clamping down hard around Amuro's wrist to halt the strike.
Amuro had not put his full weight into the initial grab. The moment he felt the resistance, he twisted his wrist with fluid, lethal grace, snapping Kid's grip instantly. He stepped back, a playful, dangerous glint dancing in his eyes.
"Reflexes like that..." Amuro mused, tilting his head. "You certainly do not move like a frail researcher."
For a brief, fleeting second, the image of Bordeaux flashed across Amuro's mind. Alhaitham possessed that exact same contradiction—a supposed academic whose physical combat skills were terrifyingly sharp. It was no wonder Gin had taken such an immediate, obsessive interest in the Sumeru scholar.
Kid realized the situation had completely spiraled out of his control. The charade was dead. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a metallic clack echoed through the corridor as his card gun materialized in his grip. He fired two rapid shots straight at Amuro's face, desperate to force the man back and carve out an escape route.
Repaying the little detective's favor was officially off the table for today. They could negotiate the debt if he survived. Right now, fleeing was the only viable stratagem. Kid had absolutely no intention of ending up in a cage again.
Amuro merely tilted his head. The razor-sharp playing cards sliced through the empty air where his eyes had been a fraction of a second prior. Closing the distance in a single, explosive stride, Amuro sealed off the corridor, his hand darting out to snatch the earpiece right out of Kid's ear.
Kid parried frantically, his movements growing increasingly desperate. He was entirely focused on breaking the engagement, but under Amuro's relentless, heavy strikes, he was rapidly losing ground.
Further down the train, Conan heard the violent sounds of the scuffle echoing through the comms. Panic gripped his chest. Terrified that Kid was about to be killed by the Organization, the young detective sprinted madly toward Car No. 8.
Just as Amuro's fingers brushed the edge of the earpiece, a sharp, piercing ringtone erupted from his terminal, shattering his focus.
Kid's survival instincts flared. Capitalizing on that split-second distraction, he slammed a smoke bomb onto the floorboards. A thick, blinding white cloud exploded upward, swallowing Amuro's vision entirely. By the time the smoke began to clear, the phantom thief was already gone.
"Tsk!" Amuro clicked his tongue in deep annoyance. He pulled out his ringing phone, his tone dripping with irritation. "Hello, Cointreau. I am in the middle of a mission. Do you make it a habit to call and ruin my timing?"
"Are you suggesting I should not have called to inform you that there is a bomb on this train?" Cointreau's voice drifted through the speaker, chillingly calm.
"A bomb on the train?!" Amuro froze, the lingering frustration over Kid's escape vanishing in an instant.
Just outside the carriage doors, Conan skidded to a halt. He had just let out a breath of relief upon seeing Kid escape the smoke, only for his heart to violently seize again at the word bomb.
"Gin told me," Cointreau replied, answering Amuro's unspoken question. "He said that as long as we confirm Sherry is on board, blowing the entire train to pieces guarantees she will not survive."
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