Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Book author: This is not enough to express my opinion

Book Description: [Real Sake] [Soul Swap] [Shinichi & Ran Breakup] [Main Character Unaware of Plot] [Single Female Lead: Ran Mouri]

Aosawa and Mao Lilan are two completely different people. One lives in darkness, lazy and dead.

A life in the sunshine, romantic and beautiful.

Two people are like two completely non-intersecting parallel lines, and perhaps they will never intersect in this life.

But an unexpected exchange of souls bound the two people together tightly.

They were forced to play each other and intervene in each other's world in an irresistible manner.

"Mr. Qingze, is this what your world is like? Dangerous, depressing, and deadly."

"Girl, put away your excessive sympathy. Now, you have become me."

"Since you have become me, please, Mr. Qingze, forget your identity for a while and experience the life of an ordinary high school girl!"

……

Later, Kudo Shinichi, who had returned to his original appearance, looked at his beloved girl standing next to another man with their fingers intertwined with each other with bloodshot eyes.

------

Ps: This is a post about Shinran, the author is a fan of Ran Maori, please do not read if you mind.

Don't discredit the original characters.

Lan has not turned evil, and her life creed will not allow her to kill or do evil.

But under the influence of the protagonist, he will turn from white to black, his cognition will change, and he will become a little sinister.

Chapter 1 Body Swap

Warning: This video may contain content that may disrupt the original Rin's (Shinichi and Ran's) plans. If you are concerned

It's not a transgender story, but rather an occasional body swap.

(The author has only watched the anime, so all the characters are from the anime version.)

The timeline is after the Bourbon arc and before the Rum arc.

___________

[Beginning of main text]

It took Qingze a full half minute to figure out his current state.

Before him were a pair of slender, pale hands, completely different from his own, without calluses from gunshots or knife marks, impeccably clean.

Lowering your gaze further, you see a cute nightgown, now disheveled, revealing a pair of fair and slender legs.

When I stood up, I felt a heavy, uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

Looking around, it was a bedroom full of girlish charm. A schoolbag was leaning against a chair, and homework that had been finished but not yet put away was on the desk, with the title "Required Course for Grade 11" clearly visible on the cover.

He walked to the desk, where moonlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, falling on the cover of his workbook, where the words "[Teitan High School, Ran Mouri]" were clearly visible.

Teitan High School, Aozawa knows where it is.

But... can someone tell him why he was making explosives at home one moment and turned into a high school girl the next?

He was certain that there were no deaths or explosions.

His bombs were always in the semi-finished stage before they were used.

This day was no different from any other day. There were no shooting stars or a conjunction of the seven stars. He just suddenly became a different person without any warning.

Reaching out to support his somewhat dizzy head, he realized that his body was still burning up.

He reached out and pinched himself, the long-lost pain returning, a feeling that seemed like a distant memory, almost unfamiliar.

What happened? Did the original owner of this body die from a high fever?

Qingze twitched the corner of his mouth. His temperature was just over 38 degrees Celsius, which was obviously not high enough to cause death from a high fever.

Now there's only one possibility.

He picked up the old-fashioned red flip phone next to him, which was clearly outdated, looked at it with disdain for a second, and then dialed a number.

The call was answered shortly afterward.

A familiar voice came through the phone in a tone he had never used before.

"Um...hello?"

The voice, which was originally clear and cold, was now filled with hesitation and softness, as if it had been possessed.

The current situation is no different from possession.

The difference is that one is active and the other is passive.

Hearing himself make such a delicate voice, several veins bulged on Qingze's forehead, and he crumpled the neatly arranged notebook on his desk.

"Don't you think it sounds really out of place when this kind of language is spoken in my voice, Ran Mouri?"

He emphasized the words "Ran Mouri" with a familiar tone, his voice coming out with an unprecedented coldness that sent chills down the spine of the person on the other end of the phone.

The person on the other end of the phone chuckled awkwardly, unsure how to reply, their expression a mixture of embarrassment and helplessness.

Qingze didn't need her reply.

He continued speaking:

"Now, don't touch anything on the table. Stay where you are, don't touch anything, don't move anything. I'll be right there."

After the call was disconnected, Ran Mouri's awkward and bewildered feelings eased considerably.

She patted her chest, trying to calm her racing heart, but what she touched was not the soft, yielding touch of usual, but a hard, yielding surface.

Looking down at those hands with their distinct knuckles, she still felt a sense of unreality.

She, Ran Mouri, is an ordinary high school sophomore.

One second he was lying in bed with a fever, the next he was a stranger, a man.

Panic, fear, helplessness, dread... a whole host of emotions swept over me.

She had never encountered anything like this before and had no idea what to do.

She instinctively wanted to turn to her childhood friend, the famous high school detective, Shinichi Kudo.

But the next moment, she dismissed the idea.

If calls from your own mobile number always go to a busy signal, how can you expect an unknown number to answer?

A mix of emotions welled up inside her; her mind was a jumbled mess, and she felt like crying.

Fortunately, her phone vibrated in her pocket at that moment, saving her from her chaotic emotions.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself down.

Based on the current situation, it seems that she and this stranger have swapped bodies.

She looked up at the table in front of her. It was more like a tall coffee table than a table, with various things on it: test tubes containing liquids, plastic, clay, charcoal, and other things she couldn't identify.

She obediently stayed still and didn't move around. But her mind kept racing; what was she doing?

Looking around the living room, it was cold and deserted, with simple decor but a cold and hard feel to it, and even the lighting seemed to have a chill to it.

She looked at her face through the screen of her phone, which was already off, and was surprised to find that the man in this body had white hair. It wasn't silver or gray, but white, as if the hair no longer secreted any melanin, and thus presented an almost transparent white.

His white hair was short in the front and long in the back, like a super-long wolf tail.

Not only his hair, but his eyes are also very special.

Just like the eyes of a vampire in movies and comics, they are scarlet as blood.

With these two overly obvious features, his handsome, angular face became less captivating.

Why does he have such unusual hair and eyes? Who exactly is this gentleman?

She stared at the screen for a while and noticed that when she looked straight ahead with a blank expression, her scarlet eyes revealed a sharp edge that made people afraid to look directly at her.

When he glances sideways, it's as if he's looking down at ants, carrying a coldness that sees all living beings as worthless grass. But when he lowers his eyes, he's quite lazy, the light reflected from the lamp is obscured, and there's a sense of deathly stillness.

She started to get playful and kept trying out different expressions until there was a knock on the door.

A text message popped up on my phone at just the right time, brief and direct.

[Open the door.]

She jumped up, feeling extremely nervous, and looked around the room for a while before finally finding the door.

She opened the door, and sure enough, there she was, standing outside.

She had changed out of her pajamas into a set of casual clothes that were easy to move in, and her hair was casually tied into a messy ponytail.

Ran Mouri glanced at her chest and realized she was still wearing a bra.

Her face flushed bright red, and she lowered her head to step aside and let the other person into the house.

Qingze frowned as soon as he stepped out of the station.

The more he looked, the more his brows furrowed.

The fact that his body was made to appear so shy and delicate made his fists hard.

The door slammed shut. Qingze didn't say anything to her and strode into the living room with the air of a big boss.

He was fairly satisfied to see that the things on the table hadn't been touched.

Ran Mouri followed closely behind him, wanting to ask many questions, but when she opened her mouth, she didn't know what to say.

"Um...you still have a fever..."

Ran Mouri knows her own body all too well.

Just moments before they swapped bodies, she sat up, preparing to go to the living room to get a drink of water.

Now, this stranger has taken her place as the feverish patient.

As Qingze was clearing the table, he swept a sharp look over, and the cold and contemptuous gaze silenced Ran Mouri instantly.

Looking at her own incredibly familiar face, Ran Mouri was speechless for a moment.

It's clearly my own face, so why does it feel so intimidating?

Qingze put the dangerous items on the table into the safe, then leisurely washed his hands and sat down on the sofa.

He crossed his legs, leaned casually against the sofa, slightly raised his chin, and uttered a single word softly.

"sit."

Ran Mouri sat properly with her hands on her knees, like a well-behaved student.

"Let me introduce myself, Qingze."

Chapter 2 I Became You

Ran Mouri looked at him, or rather, at herself, somewhat dazed.

It's really strange to see yourself appear before your eyes, in a completely different posture.

Qingze immediately noticed that the girl was distracted. He clicked his tongue, instantly bringing her back to her senses.

The girl instinctively gripped her trouser leg with her hand on her knee, feeling both embarrassed and nervous.

Qingze pinched the bridge of his nose and softened his tone:

"Don't be so tense, you can relax. Besides, it feels strange to see myself in such a formal posture."

It's like seeing Gin turn into a sissy; it makes you want to gouge your eyes out.