The Different Color Tracks in the Detective Conan World

The day the stitches on Lin Mo's arm were removed, he received a call from an unknown number. The caller's voice was processed, with a cold, electronic tone: "Want to know about Rum's whereabouts? Tonight at eight o'clock, the rooftop bar at the Miho Hotel, come alone."

The call ended, leaving only a busy tone on the receiver. Lin Mo stared at his phone screen, his fingertips lightly tapping on the table. Rum, the organization's number two, was as mysterious as a thick fog. This invitation was too deliberate, like a meticulously laid trap.

But he knew he had to go.

"Want to go?" Conan's voice came from the doorway. The little guy had appeared there at some point, holding a miniature listening device. "The professor said we can put this in, and we'll provide backup outside."

Lin Mo took the bugging device and weighed it in his hand: "No need, I can go by myself."

"This is too dangerous!" Haibara walked in, her face grave. "This could very well be a trap set by Bourbon. He's been frantically investigating the organization's spies lately, and he's also testing your identity."

"I know it was him." Lin Mo smiled and handed the bugging device back to Conan. "Bourbon's real identity is Public Security Police Officer Rei Furuya. He wanted to confirm whether I was 'one of their own.'"

Conan and Ai Haibara were both stunned.

"How do you know?" Conan pressed. This information was only a guess even the FBI had, and had never been confirmed.

Lin Mo didn't explain—this "prophet" was his biggest trump card. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." He looked at Haibara, "Do me a favor, check the check-in records of the Beika Hotel for the past three months, especially the guests who registered under aliases."

Haibara nodded: "I'll have the professor investigate."

In the evening, Lin Mo changed into a black suit, concealed a folding knife in his sleeve, and drove to the Mihua Hotel. The rooftop bar was dimly lit, with jazz music playing lazily, seemingly a world apart from the hustle and bustle downstairs.

He had just sat down at the bar when a man in a waiter's uniform came over and handed him a glass of whiskey: "Sir, your drink."

Lin Mo looked up and met a pair of deep eyes. A faint smile played on the corners of the man's lips; it was Amuro Tooru—or rather, Bourbon.

"I didn't expect you to actually come." Amuro Tooru's voice was low, tinged with amusement. "Aren't you afraid it's a trap?"

"More than a trap, I'm interested in clues about Rum." Lin Mo picked up his glass but didn't drink. "Or rather, what do you want from me?"

Amuro Tooru leaned back against the bar, his body slightly forward, instantly closing the distance between them: "I want to know, who exactly are you? Why are you around Conan? Why do you know so much about the organization?"

"Who I am is not important." Lin Mo met his gaze without flinching. "What is important is that we have a common enemy."

"A common enemy?" Amuro Tooru laughed. "Why do you think I'd believe you?"

Lin Mo put down his wine glass and traced a symbol on the table with his fingertip—a code known only to those within the public security police. "Do you recognize this?"

Amuro Tooru's gaze sharpened instantly, like a cheetah that had been pricked: "Who exactly are you?"

"Someone who wants to destroy the organization." Lin Mo's voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable power. "I know you're looking for Shuichi Akai, and I know about your deal with Vermouth. If you're willing to cooperate, I can help you find Rum's weakness."

Amuro Tooru remained silent for a long time, as if the jazz music in the bar had frozen. He took a photograph out of his pocket and placed it in front of Lin Mo—the photograph showed the profile of a one-eyed man against the backdrop of warehouses in Yokohama Port.

"This is one of Rum's stand-ins." Amuro Tooru's voice turned cold. "He's recently been tracking down some raw data about 'aptx4869,' which is in the encrypted database at Tokyo University."

Lin Mo's heart tightened. The data, which Miyano Akemi had mentioned before, was a research manuscript left by her parents, which had been locked in the school's highest-level server.

When will the organization make its move?

"Three days from now." Amuro Tooru took back the photo. "Vermouth will personally lead the team." He looked at Lin Mo. "If you can get the data, we can make a deal."

"Deal." Lin Mo stood up. "But I have one condition: Miyano Akemi cannot be harmed."

Amuro Tooru raised an eyebrow: "You seem to care a lot about her."

"She is innocent."

Amuro Tooru didn't press further, simply waving his hand: "I'll be waiting for you at the university gate in three days."

The night air was unusually cold when Lin Mo left the bar. He got into his car but didn't start it immediately. Instead, he looked in the rearview mirror—a black sedan was following him from a distance, its headlights like two spying eyes in the night.

He is a member of Vermouth's group.

He sneered, slammed on the gas, and the car shot off like an arrow. Weaving and twisting through traffic, it quickly shook off its pursuers.

Back in his apartment, Lin Mo turned on his computer. Haibara had already sent him the check-in records for the Beika Hotel. One of the guests, using the alias "Chris Vineyard," had checked in yesterday, and her room number was directly below the rooftop bar.

"She really is here," Lin Mo said in a low voice. Vermouth was not only monitoring Amuro Tooru, but also him.

He dialed Conan's number and told him everything about Amuro Tooru.

"Are you really going to cooperate with him?" Conan's voice was full of worry. "Bourbon is too dangerous and not trustworthy."

"I know." Lin Mo looked out at the night sky. "But right now, he's our only way to get information about Rum. And I need his power to keep Vermouth in check."

"Then the data from Tokyo University..."

"We must get it." Lin Mo's tone was firm. "It's the key to taking down Rum, and also a bargaining chip to protect the Miyano sisters."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Mo opened the encrypted folder, which contained all the information he had collected about the organization over the past few months—from the codenames of the men in black to their modus operandi, from the compositional analysis of APTX4869 to speculation about Rum's possible identity. This information was like scattered chess pieces, finally finding their place tonight.

He is not Shinichi Kudo, obsessed with pursuing the truth; nor is he Gin, indulging in the destruction of everything. He is simply Lin Mo, an intruder with the advantage of "prophecy," weaving his own web in the cracks between red and black.

This network includes undercover police officers, FBI agents, struggling members of an organization, and ordinary people who seem unremarkable yet possess extraordinary abilities. He doesn't need to redeem anyone, nor does he want to destroy anyone; he simply wants to forge a unique and unconventional path in this black-and-white world.

Three days later at dawn, Lin Mo stood at the entrance of Dongdu University, watching the rising sun pierce through the clouds. Amuro Tooru's car was already waiting at the street corner, the window rolled down, revealing his unfathomable eyes.

"Are you ready?" Amuro Tooru asked.

Lin Mo nodded, opened the car door, and got in. The car slowly drove into the campus, heading straight for the database building that held the secrets.

Sunlight shone on the car, reflecting a cold, metallic sheen. Lin Mo knew the chessboard was set, and every move from here on would determine the fate of countless people.

But he was fearless. Because what he saw was not a black-and-white world, but that vast gray area—where the key to breaking the deadlock lay, and where his only possibility lay.