Chapter 396: Shuichi Akai's Disguise
So, Kir was likely an undercover agent from the very beginning.
Amuro paced his thoughts, piecing together the fragmented history of the Black Organization's past operations. Then which intelligence agency had sent her? The FBI, MI6, or the CIA?
He mentally sifted through the archives. Kir had originally caught Gin's lethal attention entirely by accident. Or so the official report claimed. After discovering suspicious anomalies surrounding the known CIA operative Ethan Hondo, Kir had supposedly moved to interrogate him. Instead, the situation inverted. She ended up restrained by her own target. Even after being pumped full of high-grade truth serum, she maintained absolute silence. The climax of that bloody encounter ended with her tearing through Ethan's wrist with her teeth, seizing his dropped pistol, and executing him on the spot.
Looking at the sequence of events through a critical lens, the entire incident reeked of staged desperation. The sheer number of convenient coincidences pointed heavily toward Kir being a CIA plant herself, using Ethan's sacrifice to cement her position within the syndicate.
However, Kir's true allegiance was a puzzle piece he could afford to set aside for the moment. Toru Amuro had a far more pressing obsession. He needed to pinpoint exactly where Shuichi Akai had crawled off to hide after orchestrating his own fiery demise. Knowing the man's relentless nature, Akai would never simply fake his death and retreat into quiet retirement. He was out there, pulling strings from the shadows.
Amuro retraced his steps. He pictured the digital photograph he had secretly viewed on Kogoro Mouri's computer. It clearly showed Sherry wearing the exclusive pass ring for the Bell Tree Express. While the Sherry he ultimately cornered on that smoke-filled train turned out to be the elusive Kaitou Kid in disguise, and he could not be entirely certain the real Sherry had even boarded, the existence of that photo proved one absolute fact. Sherry had originally intended to step onto that train.
Sifting through the chaotic aftermath of the Mysterious Train operation, Amuro pushed aside the unexpected murder case that had derailed their schedule. A specific detail surfaced in his memory.
According to Vermouth's debriefing, Cointreau had been assigned to guard Shuichi Akai's younger sister. Yet, a mysterious figure had intervened. After a brief physical altercation, Cointreau had apparently found the entire ordeal too bothersome and simply allowed the stranger to walk away with Sera Masumi.
At the time, Amuro had barely registered the anomaly. He never harbored any delusions that Cointreau would offer him genuine, wholehearted assistance anyway. More, he had already secured a sample of the sister's blood. Back then, the world believed Shuichi Akai was reduced to ash. Amuro's insistence on running a DNA test was born out of pure, stubborn refusal to accept his rival's easy death. He had simply written off the mysterious rescuer as a random FBI guard dog assigned to protect Sherry or the sister.
But the board had flipped. Amuro was now absolutely certain that Shuichi Akai still drew breath. Operating under that reality, the unknown combatant who clashed with Cointreau was almost certainly the man himself, hiding behind a fresh face.
Without wasting another second, Amuro pulled out his phone and dialed Cointreau's encrypted number.
The line connected after only a few rings.
"Hey, Cointreau," Amuro demanded, his tone clipped and impatient. "Let me ask you something. Back on the Mysterious Train, what did the person who took Shuichi Akai's sister look like?"
His mind worked furiously while he waited for a response. Even if Akai had disguised himself, the emergency nature of the train incident meant he lacked the time for a complex, temporary mask. He would have relied on his default cover identity. The face he presented to Cointreau was highly likely the exact same face he wore every single day in his new life.
A lazy, drawn-out sigh filtered through the receiver. Instead of answering the question, Cointreau deflected with casual indifference. "It has been quite a while since that little incident. Why the sudden burst of curiosity?"
"Shuichi Akai..." Amuro began, fully intending to declare his rival alive. He caught himself at the last possible millisecond. The image of Kir, still deeply embedded in the Organization, flashed across his mind. Exposing Akai now might trigger a chain reaction that would get her killed. He swallowed the truth and smoothly fabricated an alibi. "I suspect that intruder might have been Shuichi Akai. Sera Masumi is his younger sister, after all. Seeing his own flesh and blood fall into the hands of an Organization executive... it makes perfect sense that he would risk exposing himself to mount a rescue, does it not?"
"A logical deduction," Cointreau replied, the amusement in the voice barely concealed. "But that theory only holds water on the premise that our dear Shuichi Akai is actually alive. Bourbon, do not tell me you have already completed the DNA comparison using the sister's blood. What were the results? Is the ghost truly walking among us?" The voice dipped into a theatrical tone of regret. "If that is the case, then Kir really has betrayed the Organization. It seems even Gin's infallible judgment was completely off the mark..."
"Cointreau, since when did you catch Gin's particular brand of paranoia?" Amuro cut in sharply, his grip tightening on the plastic casing of his phone. Letting this line of thought continue would sign Kir's death warrant. "A definitive DNA comparison requires extracting viable tissue from Shuichi Akai's charred corpse. I have not even begun to handle that logistical nightmare yet."
"That does not sound like the Bourbon I know." The lazy drawl vanished, replaced by a sudden, biting chill. "I was under the impression that your little obsession with Akai would have driven you to act the very second you secured that blood sample. Why is there absolutely no progress?" A heavy pause hung on the line. "Bourbon. You are not lying to me, are you?"
"You are overthinking things." Amuro kept his breathing perfectly even, projecting an aura of mild annoyance to mask the spike of adrenaline. "I asked you a single, straightforward question, and you have spent the last three minutes interrogating me. Why? Is the description of a single man so difficult to recall? Or should I just assume you are deliberately refusing to answer me?"
A soft exhale echoed through the speaker. "Fine, I will indulge you," Cointreau conceded, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had formed. "The man who took Sera Masumi off my hands was that Okiya Subaru. The one currently squatting in the Kudo family residence. You should be quite familiar with him."
"I am indeed familiar with him." Amuro closed his eyes. The image of the unassuming graduate student he had briefly encountered during Conan's kidnapping case materialized in his mind. The high collar. The constantly closed eyes. The quiet, calculating demeanor. A sharp thrill ignited in Amuro's chest, bleeding into a predatory smile.
'So, he is Shuichi Akai?!'
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