Conan: I'm a zaibatsu in Tokyo

After Conan and his friends solved the case, they remained calm for several days.

Conan is back to his mundane life of 'murder,' solving cases, searching for clues about the organization, and incidentally visiting his mother on set.

The night was as dark as ink, pressing heavily on the Tokyo skyline.

Yusaku Kudo leaned back on his signature leather sofa, a glass of Scotch whisky on the rocks in his hand.

He had just emerged from a complex international copyright negotiation and was still jet-lagged; his suit jacket was draped to one side, and his tie hung loosely around his neck.

His face showed a rare hint of fatigue.

Just a few days ago, he was in Los Angeles, arguing with shrewd producers over the film and television adaptation rights to several works.

"Click."

A soft click came from the door lock, followed by footsteps.

A primary school student wearing glasses squeezed in, carrying a schoolbag that didn't fit his size.

"Dad? You're really back?"

Conan saw the figure on the sofa, paused for a moment, then quickly walked over and threw his schoolbag on the ground.

He looked at Yusaku Kudo with surprise in his eyes.

“That’s right.” Kudo Yusaku snapped out of his reverie, put down his wine glass, looked at his son’s small figure, and a helpless smile appeared on his lips:
"What, are you surprised to see me back?"

Conan nodded, genuinely surprised.

The last time my dad came back, he left a very deep impression on him.

It was an elaborate "kidnapping" game.

The tension and excitement, mixed with complaints about my parents' unreliable behavior, remain vivid in my memory to this day.

However, due to some unexpected events, the game underwent a strange change.

But what about this time?

There was no pretense, no script; he was simply sitting at home, like an ordinary father waiting for his child.

This contrast made Conan feel that something was amiss.

Seeing Conan's expression, Yusaku Kudo realized something and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

Last time, it was Yukiko's sudden idea, something about testing Conan's ability to react when his identity is exposed, and...

To scare my son.

He was just acting as a dutiful husband, putting on a show for his wife.

How have you been lately?

Conan sat on the single sofa opposite him, crossing his legs like a little adult.

"I've been doing well lately," he proactively reported to his supervisor.
"Life remains peaceful and uneventful. Although there hasn't been much new progress in the organization's leads, the antidote that Brother Zhengyi is researching is progressing quite well."

"Not bad?" Yusaku raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he said it verbally," Conan answered honestly. "I haven't tried the drug yet. But he seems very confident."

Yusaku Kudo nodded, his expression becoming even more complicated.

You're great, but we're not so great.

To make money, he's been writing so much lately that his hands are cramping. To negotiate copyright issues, he has to meet all sorts of people every day and say things he doesn't mean.

Moreover, Yukiko has been working hard to earn money.

Thinking of his wife, Yusaku's expression became even more complicated. He rubbed his temples again, as if trying to alleviate some kind of mental shock.

He could picture that scene:
Yukiko Kudo talks nonsense with a straight face on variety shows, or she puts on a great show in front of the camera to demonstrate her amazing acting skills, making a bunch of celebrities and audiences completely fooled.

"Have you been watching your mom's performance on the show?" Yusaku asked tentatively.

"Huh?" Conan shook his head.

His focus was entirely on investigating organizational clues and his studies, so he didn't watch much of his mother's shows.

Moreover, Yukiko has been taking on too many shows lately, from family cooking to emotional talk shows, Conan simply can't keep up.

However, seeing his father's indescribable expression, Conan immediately became alert.

For Kudo Yusaku to show that kind of expression, his mother must have done something truly extraordinary.

"Did she say something inappropriate on the show again?" Conan asked tentatively, his tone tinged with worry.

“It’s more than just talking nonsense,” Yusaku said, rubbing his forehead.

"She took on the challenge of 'making a Manchu Han Imperial Feast using only flour and water' in a family variety show."

Conan's lips twitched as he imagined the scene:
Mom gazed lovingly at a bowl of flour, then presented a plate of her masterpiece, the ingredients of which were unrecognizable.

Yusaku continued, her voice filled with helplessness: "On a relationship reality show, she talked about her relationship with the thirteen turtles she raised to death."

"In the interview program, she..."

Yusaku didn't continue speaking because he saw that Conan's eyes were already wide open like saucers.

An eerie silence fell over the living room, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock.

Conan paused for two seconds, then summarized in an extremely complex tone:
"...Mom looks like she's having a lot of fun."

"you do not say."

Yusaku Kudo picked up his wine glass and took another sip, as if to calm his nerves.

Work is so tiring, it seems Yukiko has found a unique way to relax.

What he found even more incomprehensible was that the audience seemed to actually like it.

That absurd and nonsensical performance style was surprisingly popular.

This has led to an increasing number of TV programs seeking out Yukiko, resulting in a constant stream of offers for her shows, and Yukiko has recently been making a fortune.

However, many friends have asked Yusaku Kudo about this.

When asked whether he married a female celebrity or a performance artist, he replied...

The living room fell silent again.

Conan looked at Yusaku Kudo and sensed that he had something on his mind.

As one of the people who knows Yusaku Kudo best, Conan keenly senses that his father's troubles seem to stem from more than just Yukiko's variety show career.

“Dad,” Conan broke the silence, asking curiously:

"Besides your mother's matter, are there other things bothering you? And why did you go back to Japan...?"

Yusaku paused, looked at Conan, and his expression became somewhat complicated.

"You've heard about it too?" Yusaku asked in return.

"Huh?" Conan's eyes widened, utterly puzzled. "What did you hear?"

Could it be a clue to the organization? Or is it related to some major case?

Conan looked completely bewildered, having no idea what Yusaku was talking about.

"I thought you knew too." Yusaku shook his head with a wry smile.

He wasn't talking about the organization, nor was he talking about the case.

This puzzled Conan even more.

What does this have to do with me?
Yusaku Kudo didn't keep anyone in suspense and said directly, "It was your brother Masakazu who invited me back."

"Brother Zhengyi?" Conan blinked, even more confused.

"Could it be that Brother Zhengyi wants to buy the copyright to your novel, Dad?"

This is the only explanation Conan can think of.

Zheng Yi didn't tell him, which means it had nothing to do with him.

As for the connection with Yusaku Kudo, it seems to be only due to copyright issues.

“More or less,” Yusaku Kudo said. He stood up, walked to the window, turned his back to Conan, and looked out at the dark courtyard.

"He's the one who wants me to write his autobiography."

"An autobiography? Why does Zheng Yi suddenly have the idea of ​​writing an autobiography?" Conan asked, puzzled.

His eyes gleamed with curiosity:
"But this is quite interesting. Although Zheng Yi is young, his achievements in business are truly amazing."

"In less than a year, he built such a huge business empire. If I were a reader, I would also want to see how he did it."

He paused, a hint of uncertainty in his voice: "But... isn't it a bit too early to write an autobiography?"

"How old is he? Even if you included his entire life before he started his business, the space would still be limited, right?"

"Is he planning to write a textbook titled 'How to Build a Business Empire from Scratch'?"

Conan's analysis was reasonable and logical. In his view, Zheng Yi wouldn't do something pointless.

Zheng Yi invited his father, a world-class mystery novelist, to write his autobiography simply to leverage Yusaku's writing skills and fame.

To enhance personal brand value, one can package their business legend into something more compelling.

Well, that should be it.

It can't be just because it's fun or for some kind of vanity, right?

Zheng Yi is not such a superficial person.

However, Yusaku Kudo's expression became even more complicated.

He didn't answer Conan's question immediately, but instead turned around stiffly and leaned against the window frame, the moonlight shining on his face.

"No, Shinichi...you're wrong."

His voice was deep.

"That's not an autobiography about business."

Conan was stunned, his brain racing as he tried to understand the meaning behind his father's words.

"Not a business autobiography? Then what is it?"

Could it be related to academics?
Conan looked on with curiosity.

He didn't know much about Zhengyi's studies, but if it was just about studies, there was no need to write an autobiography.

That wasn't a business plan, but a... crime apocalypse.

Just a few days ago, Yusaku met Zhengyi's spokesperson at a high-end club in Los Angeles.

Without exchanging pleasantries or formalities, Zheng Yi directly handed him a thick document.

"Mr. Kudo, I would like to ask you to help me write a book."

His tone was very calm, as if he were talking about something extremely ordinary.

He called Zhengyi's entrepreneurial methods "aesthetics".

He invited Yusaku to write his autobiography, not to record his success, but to show the world his philosophy.

“He even said…” Yusaku felt as if a thorn was stuck in his throat:

He said he hopes the book can become a "textbook" to teach future generations how to become a true entrepreneur.

"Isn't this great?" Conan said.

In Conan's opinion.

Zheng Yi is quite successful as an entrepreneur.

Sharing one's success story is a good thing.

If it's a normal entrepreneurial sharing session, then it's certainly a good thing.

But that's not normal.

Yusaku Kudo sat down in the chair by the window and placed his hand on the drawer in front of the table.

The drawer contains the information that person gave me.

To write an autobiography for someone, you must know them well enough and have information about them.

These materials are not trade secrets, nor are they data from various projects.

Instead, they were case files, one after another.

Yusaku Kudo asked, "Shinichi, are you really sure Shoichi is a good person?"

"Could it be that Zheng Yi really didn't commit those crimes?"

The case files were really detailed.

The records, especially those of major building explosions, are quite detailed.

They even documented how the bombs were placed and where they were located.

If they weren't truly the mastermind behind it all, they wouldn't likely know so much detail.

“Brother Zhengyi is definitely a good person,” Conan said. “That’s what the CIA said.”

Although everyone says that Zheng Yi is very powerful in Japan and can manipulate everything.

But we can't expect people to manipulate the CIA, can we?
If the CIA people all listen to the top leader, then what level of person is the top leader?

That's not scientific.

Conan asked, "Dad, where did you hear these rumors from?"

“It’s not just hearsay,” Yusaku Kudo said.

He took the documents out of the drawer and threw them on the table.

“Look, this is the information he gave me. He asked me to refer to this and write an autobiography for him,” Yusaku Kudo said.

Conan curiously flipped through the documents.

The more I look at it, the more energetic I feel.

These things are really detailed.

Yusaku Kudo looked at Conan and said, "These things are suspicious enough, aren't they?"

Conan nodded.

That is indeed suspicious.

Yusaku Kudo said, "So, is it possible that the CIA member was also deceived by Shoichi?"

"Zheng Yi isn't actually a good person. The reason he hasn't attacked you is because he has greater interests to consider?"

"No!"

Conan shook his head, still opposing his father's idea.

Brother Zheng would never have any ill intentions towards him.

Conan looked at the documents with a serious expression, then placed them on the table and said earnestly:
"This is all a conspiracy by the organization."

"Ok?"

Yusaku Kudo raised an eyebrow and said, "Your analysis is...?"

Conan adjusted his glasses and said, "You said you were asked to write an autobiography, is that Zheng Yi's spokesperson?"

“That’s right.” Yusaku Kudo nodded.

Conan said, "That person probably has nothing to do with Zheng Yi Ge."

Conan analyzed in a serious tone, "Seiichi and I have such a good relationship."

"If you really want to write an autobiography, you will definitely contact me through me."

"After all, it's unlikely that a great writer like you would write someone else's autobiography."

"And if you contact me, you can get a friend's price."

There's no reason for Zheng Yi Ge not to use a cheaper method.

"So..." Conan looked at Yusaku Kudo and said:

"The guy who contacted you isn't one of Zheng Yi's people at all. He's probably from the organization, and his goal is to continue framing Zheng Yi."

Conan sat in the chair and gritted his teeth.

In an effort to smear Zheng Yi, the organization has gone to great lengths, tirelessly weaving one clumsy script after another.

Conan looked at Yusaku Kudo and sighed, seemingly not believing that his father would fall for such a simple trick.

He said, "Such a simple lie, we can find out by just making a phone call to Brother Zhengyi."

Looking at his son's disappointed expression, Kudo Yusaku was not angry at all; instead, he gave a wry smile.

Do you think I'd fall for something so simple?
Before Kudo Yusaku could even offer his 'excuses,' Conan immediately called Shoichi.

"An autobiography? I didn't invite Mr. Kudo."

“I can’t afford to invite writers of that caliber; I only invite Japanese writers.”

“If Mr. Yusaku Kudo is willing, I am certainly willing to name a price.”

Conan waved his hand.

See? Zheng Yi didn't invite you at all.

You've been tricked by the organization. (End of Chapter)