In the Marvel Universe: I can summon items from all dimensions.

Chapter 74 Eat my feet and strengthen my teeth!

With a quick glance, Mason noticed that the clothes on his shoulder had been completely torn open, and the skin underneath was turning purplish-blue at a visible speed.

Shouldn't the brewery be using pistols and sniper rifles? What's with this whole "physical ascension" thing?!

Of course, to be fair, in terms of performance, this middle-aged man is obviously far inferior to Makoto Kyogoku, and may even be inferior to Ran Mouri, but his killing intent is much clearer than the other two, and he looks like he won't stop until he blows Mason's head off.

"Drink it!!!"

The kick missed its mark, and the middle-aged man immediately straightened his body and chased after him, throwing a punch at Mason's head as if it were the same trick he used before. Mason immediately squatted down, rolled away again, and at the same time pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the former's head.

Just as Mason was about to pull the trigger, he saw the man rush towards him with lightning speed, hitting his pistol with a hook punch and smashing two of his fingers into strange shapes.

The pistol spun around and smashed against the wall, falling apart instantly and becoming unusable.

Mason realized his mistake—he should have just aimed for the body, but he instinctively tried to aim for the head, which allowed his opponent to catch him in the wind-up animation and disable his weapon with a single punch.

That's going too far, buddy. If you keep doing this, I'll have to use cheat codes!

Air guns are useless against powerful mutants, but they're definitely effective against a karate expert who's only slightly stronger than an average person. Once I create some distance, I'll slam you against the wall so hard you won't be able to pry you off!

Great, I have a plan. The next step is how to implement it—how can I distance myself from this bastard?

The situation doesn't seem too optimistic.

All of the above thoughts were completed while Mason was rolling on the ground. When Mason tried to stand up, the middle-aged man immediately took a big step forward, raised one of his muscular legs high, and slammed it down on him like a battle axe.

One click.

The crisp sound reached Conan and Shiho Miyano's ears.

They peeked out of the elevator and saw Mason being chased. He had taken a solid kick to the back—his entire torso immediately showed a dent that matched the shape of a middle-aged man's leg, clearly indicating that his bones and muscles had been shattered, and his internal organs were probably in bad shape as well.

"Kudo, what should we do?"

Shiho Miyano gritted her teeth and said, "Shall we run away now?"

"no."

Conan shook his head decisively and said, "Haibara, this is no longer a small matter like the Black Organization investigating traitors. If what Mason said is true, we must find out what kind of plan the organization is preparing. Otherwise, even if we escape today, more and bigger troubles will come knocking on our door sooner or later."

"We can't possibly get involved in a fight between a cyborg and a karate master! Besides, that Mason guy is probably already dead! What's the difference between this injury and being run over by a car?!"

She waved to Conan, trying to stop him from acting impulsively, but what she saw out of the corner of her eye immediately startled her.

Mason, whose body was contorted and who looked like a dead man to an ordinary person, chuckled strangely twice. He used his still-functioning right arm to support himself on the ground, raised his head, and stared at the middle-aged man with his bloodshot eyes.

"Is that all you've got?"

He scoffed, "You can't even feel my pain?!"

That's absolutely true.

The injury, with half of his torso dented from being kicked, should have caused him excruciating pain, but whether it was due to excessive adrenaline or some other reason, he only felt a strange tingling sensation, along with an accompanying—excitement.

He didn't know how to describe this feeling—if he had to put it into words, it was like the phenomenon of being "severely injured" brought him a kind of stimulation he had never experienced before.

Damn it, what kind of weird development is this? I'm not a masochist!

However—didn't some veterans say something like, "The moment between life and death is when a person truly feels their own existence"? Perhaps that's what it's like to experience something like that right now.

"What are you?!"

The middle-aged man stared dumbfounded at Mason, who slowly stood up in a bizarre posture, his worldview severely challenged.

Is it possible for a human to survive injuries of that severity?

"This guy's not even human anymore!"

Inside the elevator, Shiho Miyano murmured in almost terror.

"I never believed before that people could turn into children—" Conan said with a wry smile. "Since such things exist, we just have to accept it—what else can we do?"

"What's wrong? Aren't you going to attack?"

In a strange excitement, Mason secretly slipped the air gun onto his left thumb, and instead of closing his thumb when making a fist, he pointed it forward.

"Then I'll be heading over there."

The light energy stored in his body was largely depleted, and with a strange, teeth-grinding sound, his torso swelled up again. Such a scene might not be presentable in a horror movie, but in reality, it would be enough to scare most people into screaming.

"Strange----"

The middle-aged man had barely uttered a word when, in that split second, a black shadow the size of a human head suddenly flew towards him from the side. Drawn by the strange changes in Mason, he was completely unaware of the thing's presence and was struck squarely on the head.

It turned out to be a soccer ball.

He was hit by the soccer ball and launched into the air, spinning like a windmill several times before finally landing on the ground—just a hair's breadth away from landing headfirst.

This stuff is obviously much better than anesthetics.

Because just before he hit the ground, the instant he was struck on the head, he had already fallen into a deep, infant-like sleep.

It's fortunate that Conan didn't use much force. If we consider the kick he later delivered to the satellite, the middle-aged man would probably only have his two legs sticking out of the ground, while the rest of his body would have turned into a bloody mess.

"6

Mason, who was about to let this guy experience what it meant to have "body-breaking true qi" (referring to secretly throwing a few air gun shots into the boxing match), paused for a moment.

When I saw that my opponent was unable to rise again, the inexplicable impulse in my heart suddenly vanished without a trace, like a phantom.

Unfortunately—I was planning to have a proper fight to find out exactly what that feeling was all about.

But since things have already come to this, let's look for another opportunity.

"This is my only suit, what a pity."

Looking at the several tears in his clothes, Mason sighed, then looked towards the elevator and said, "Let's get out. This guy probably won't wake up anytime soon."

Conan and Shiho Miyano cautiously peeked out, looking around.

"Alright, attacking a colleague for no reason? Even Vermouth couldn't possibly call that many people all at once." Mason shrugged. "Besides, I'm the one in danger, you guys are safe, what are you afraid of?"

"Honestly, I've never felt that the word 'safety' was so awkward."

Conan rubbed his forehead, then slowly walked out of the elevator.

Then, he glanced at the fallen middle-aged man with a complicated expression.

Having grown up with Ran Mouri, he knew all too well what kind of absurd creature a karate master was. So, in his haste, he didn't even have time to carefully adjust the power before kicking the soccer ball. The instant the guy took off, he even had the thought, "Am I going to kill someone myself to stop a murder?" But thankfully, the man still had vital signs and had probably just passed out.

"Now I finally understand why there are people who have suffered severe head injuries in cases related to you."

Mason clicked his tongue in amazement, then walked to the left wall and reached out to open a cabinet there.

The safe house didn't have any fancy layout; it was just a square room of about 100 square meters, with a row of cabinets on each side containing supplies such as food, weapons, and poison. To prevent any ambushes, Mason simply opened all the cabinets and checked the ventilation openings, but found nothing.

"Very well, now we just need to wait for Lady Vermouth's arrival."

Mason took out several folding chairs from the cabinet, unfolded them one by one, and then waved to the two good people who were checking for hidden cameras and listening devices: "Come sit down and let's talk about the next plan."

In a short time, Conan had scanned the entire safe house with his multi-functional glasses and then showed a slightly relieved expression.

Dr. Agasa's technical skills are truly unfathomable!

Then the two men came over and saw Mason tinkering with something in the cabinet behind their backs.

"What's wrong?"

"You should know that Vermouth is a very cautious person," Mason said while rummaging through his things. "It's not easy to fool her. For example, if she tells me she'll be there in a dozen hours, she's probably lying. Similarly, it's unlikely she'll be coming alone. Although this is a bit far-fetched, she probably won't bring many helpers, but there are only three of us, so we definitely don't have much of an advantage in this regard."

Upon hearing this, Conan suddenly became alert: "What are you trying to do?"

"It's very simple—"

'

Mason snapped out of his daze and gave a sinister smile: "You just need to cooperate with me."

Incidentally, he was holding two ropes and a roll of tape in his hand.

Conan was a seasoned pro at this, and he could tell at a glance what Mason was planning to do, but before he could shake his head, a phone rang behind him.

It came from a middle-aged man.

All three of them simultaneously asked: "?"

They rushed over and quickly pulled the phone off the man's shirt. The screen displayed the name "Sharon".

Meanwhile, on a private plane flying from the United States to Japan, Vermouth held her phone to her ear, a hint of barely perceptible anxiety showing on her face.

————————————————————————

Although making a phone call on a plane is dangerous, now is not the time to worry about those things; she must take control of the situation as soon as possible.

That damned Koenek! He used to be such a quiet, unassuming man, never caring about anything except the tasks assigned to him. How did he manage to pull off such a huge feat without a sound?

The phone rang a few times before being answered, and Vermouth immediately asked, "How is it?"

"—What you asked me to do is over—I broke his neck."

"Where are the child and the woman?"

"I tied them up," the voice on the other end of the phone said. "And then? What are you going to do?"

Upon hearing this good news, Vermouth's tense nerves finally relaxed a little.

—Damn it, what am I doing?

While that silver bullet was truly admirable, was it really important enough to warrant the risk of doing such a thing?

What is this? Is it acting on emotion? Am I favoring Yukiko's son? And why?

The answers to these questions were beginning to emerge, but Vermouth forced herself to stop thinking about them before they could transform from vague tendencies into clear words, and then said sternly to the person on the other end of the phone, "Keep an eye on them, I'll be right there."

"I see."

After the voice finished speaking, the phone was hung up.

Vermouth slumped back in the soft chair, and after a long pause, she finally let out a slow sigh.

The man was an assassin she had met privately while operating under the identity of Sharon Vineyard. Due to some past events, the man owed her a favor. Favors from such powerful individuals are naturally very valuable, as they might be useful in saving one's life at any time. However, when she realized that Shinichi Kudo might be in danger, she used the favor after a brief hesitation.

Ha—Am I some kind of fairy godmother?

Vermouth chuckled self-deprecatingly, then closed her eyes, quietly waiting for the moment when the supersonic commercial airliner would reach its destination.

On the other side of the cabin, a person sat silently in a seat.

He was an ordinary-looking young man, the kind you could see anywhere, but his face was completely devoid of any emotion. To describe him, he was like a dead man sealed in wax.

This was the "secret weapon" that Vermouth had temporarily brought in.

Like others have said, she is a very cautious person. Although she has a lot of confidence in the middle-aged man she sent earlier, Konek is not a weakling who can be easily dealt with. There is also the possibility that he will successfully fight back and then deceive her with something like a voice changer.

But the person sitting here is different; it is "absolutely impossible" for a normal human to deal with him.

After a while, the feeling of weightlessness during the plane's descent woke her up.

As the morning light shone, Vermouth hurriedly disembarked from the plane and got into the luxury car that was already waiting for her, together with the stiff-faced middle-aged man. They sped off towards the safe house.

After speeding all the way to the food factory, the two quickly went inside. It was only seven in the morning, and although it was already light, it wasn't time for the factory workers to start work yet. As long as they hurried, there wouldn't be any problems.

Two of the three assassins sent in the first wave have already disappeared. They must have been killed by Koniek. What a bunch of useless trash.

Becoming alert, Vermouth hid behind the young man, letting him stand in front, and the two of them entered the elevator and went down to the safe house.

But Vermouth froze the moment the elevator doors opened.

Conan Edogawa and Shiho Miyano were tied to two folding chairs in the corner. When they saw someone getting off, they struggled with fear on their faces.

This side is fine, but the other side is really baffling.

Koniek and the middle-aged man were entangled in a wrestling-like position, with blood all around them, staining their bodies almost entirely red. This horrifying scene caused Vermouth to fall into deep thought.

What's going on?

She ordered her bodyguards to lead the way, and they walked cautiously toward the horrific battlefield. Only after getting close enough did she finally see what was really going on.

Koniek's limbs were almost completely broken, and there was a gash about half the size of a fist on his neck. He was clearly dead beyond any doubt. The middle-aged man had a large swelling on his head, but he was still breathing.

What's going on?

Even with Vermouth's experience, she couldn't immediately discern what had happened here.

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