Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

The mourning hall, adorned with white chrysanthemums, was filled with solemn and respectful funeral music, while the guests' insincere mourning surrounded him.

But he felt no sadness, only a huge, almost bursting, ecstatic joy surging within him!

The funeral hall was no longer a place of mourning, but the hall where he was crowned!

"You said I'm not capable enough... not as good as Amin..."

He muttered to himself, his voice rising and falling, carrying a dreamlike quality, while his face alternated between deep-seated hatred and twisted triumph.

"But so what? Tell me, so what?!"

He suddenly raised his voice, questioning the empty space ahead as if his father were standing there.

"I admit he's 'excellent'!"

He spat out the word through gritted teeth, with extreme irony.

"But now? I'm the winner! The one who stands here in the end, controlling the entire Fukuda family, is me, Fukuda Shin! Not the 'good son' you chose!"

A strange smile, a mixture of resentment and immense satisfaction, appeared on his face. His fingers nervously rubbed the soaked silk sleeves, as if he were adjusting a non-existent gown.

“As a politician…” He raised his head, trying to project an air of superiority, his wet hair plastered messily to his forehead, making him look even more comical and terrifying. “The most important thing to discard is pointless emotion. These are the golden words you taught me since I was a child! How well have I learned them? Have I implemented them thoroughly enough? Hmm?!”

The empty tea room became his personal stage, where he staged a one-man show filled with malice and madness.

"Hahahaha!" He burst into wild laughter, the sound echoing and crashing against the walls, filled with a chilling declaration of victory.

"Old man! Go in peace... Don't worry! I've arranged the best memorial tablet for you at Kiyomizu-dera Temple! The most expensive incense! Hahahaha..."

Ran Mouri clenched her fists, almost unable to resist punching that face.

"So ugly."

Aozawa slapped him across the face, the crisp sound accompanied by the knocking out of several teeth. Fukuda Shin's left cheek immediately swelled up, briefly pulling him out of the illusion.

"It hurts, it hurts so much... You hit me? How dare you hit me!?"

Fukuda Shin stared menacingly at the person in front of him, his eyes filled with a terrifying, almost predatory look.

I'll make sure you die a horrible death!

Qingze slapped him on the other cheek as well.

Fukuda Shin, who had just been arrogant, sat back down obediently with his face completely swollen, his head bowed.

"How despicable."

A cowardly bully who preys on the weak.

Even hitting Qingze felt like dirtying his hands.

However, the genuine emotion just now was very effective; with a little editing, it would be enough to ignite public opinion.

"I ask, you answer."

"Yes."

The effects of the hallucinogen hadn't worn off; the two slaps merely reminded Fukuda Shin of his current situation.

He's currently in a state somewhat like he's drunk; his thinking ability is suppressed, and he's just answering whatever comes to mind.

But his memory won't be lost; once he regains consciousness, he will remember everything.

"How many of your men are in the Kyoto Police Headquarters? How did you bribe them?" Qingze's voice was as cold as iron.

Fukuda Shin tilted his head, as if recalling a trivial matter:

"Hmm... seven or eight, I guess. Only one of them is a high-ranking officer, and he's in an administrative position. Tsk, that's a bit of a shame."

He paused, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"However, I still have some influence with that old man Moroboshi. He's the one who cleans up the little trouble my kid occasionally gets into."

"Having some face" was clearly his humble remark, but his tone betrayed an undeniable sense of control.

The truth serum made it impossible for him to pretend, and his truest thoughts flowed out nakedly.

"Besides the Fukuda family and your father, how many other people have you killed? How did you kill them? Tell me in detail."

“I haven’t counted,” Fukuda Shin said in a flat tone, as if he were talking about the weather. “Probably… a dozen or so? I remember the first one clearly though.”

His gaze flickered for a moment, as if searching for distant memories. "It happened when I was fourteen. There was this kid in my class, I forgot his name, he was quite the show-off. I just wanted to teach him a lesson, but... I went a little too far and he died."

He paused for a moment, a hint of naive感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex emotion encompassing both admiration and naivety) appearing on his face:

"I was terrified. But the old man took care of it so easily, and just scolded me a couple of times."

"In that instant, I understood... what are they? They're worlds apart from someone like me. Killing them... is no big deal."

There was no regret in his words, only a sudden realization, a certainty about his position, and the subsequent triumphant acceptance of the power of life and death.

"Later, his parents wanted to make trouble, but the old man had his own way of dealing with it. Anyway... he never showed up again."

“Only one of them did it personally,” Fukuda Shin added with a hint of self-righteous arrogance. “The eldest son of the Fukuda family… has plenty of ways to make someone disappear, and there’s no need for him to dirty his own hands.”

Ran Mouri looked at his calm, expressionless face, her knuckles clenched so tightly they turned white.

Killing was as commonplace to him as brushing away a speck of dust.

That disregard for human life was chillingly suffocating.

She felt no guilt whatsoever about using the truth serum on him; all she wanted was for this vile man to be punished!

Qingze glanced at Ran Mouri's barely suppressed expression, a slight smile playing on his lips, and continued, "Which officials have you bribed? Who are your faction members, and what have they done for you?"

"Governor of Kyoto Prefecture..." Fukuda Nobu announced the name and amount, as if reading a shopping list.

What are your thoughts on Makoto Fukuda's alleged pedophilia?

"What kind of mess is this? To die over something like this, how ridiculous..."

Aozawa's questions were asked calmly and deliberately, and Fukuda Shin's answers were completely unvarnished.

Each and every one of these incidents is appalling and enough to stir up a massive upheaval.

Far from being ashamed, he occasionally revealed a hint of boasting in his tone.

Ran Mouri felt a chill creep up her spine.

The person before me has a glamorous exterior, but inside he has long been rotten and stinking from being corrupted by power, twisted beyond recognition.

If those who wield power are all like this, then this country is truly doomed.

Qingze wasn't in a hurry to ask about himself; he felt that wasn't enough and was focused on crushing the Fukuda family.

What is your opinion of the current prime minister?

"A complete waste of space," Fukuda Shin scoffed. "A spineless coward who only knows how to bow and apologize. If I were prime minister, I would definitely be better than him!"

Where is the Japanese Emperor?

"They're just mascots with no real power. We give them some face sometimes, but do they really think anyone cares about them?"

"And what about the President of the United States...?"

Chapter 248 Isn't it because you're angry for me?

Aozawa could hardly bear to look at the awe and fawning expression on Fukuda Shin's face when he mentioned the US president.

They bully the weak and fear the strong; they're incredibly spineless.

Seeing that Ran Mouri was starting to urge him with her eyes, Aoze stopped asking these questions.

"By the way, I heard that Fukuda Akira's son is not dead, and he even hired a detective to investigate you." He spoke calmly, as if he had suddenly remembered this matter.

Qingze wasn't particularly obsessed with figuring out how the original owner ended up in the organization.

Time cannot be turned back, and he cannot change the past.

So many years have passed, whether or not it's meaningful to figure it out is not very meaningful.

However, Ran Mouri cares a lot about this.

"Hmph," Fukuda Shin's face darkened, as if his displeasure had been touched, "I thought that brat would have rotted away in the mountains long ago, but he's got a tough life..."

He said dismissively, "But he can't cause any trouble. His father's case is a done deal; I've covered up all the loopholes. What can he possibly use to overturn it?"

He didn't take Qingze seriously at all. What did it matter if he was alive? What did it matter if he found Kogoro Mouri? The fact that the young punk at the police station couldn't hold back and left last time only made him more certain that Qingze was an insignificant piece of trash.

With no power or influence, even if his adoptive father left him some wealth, what could he do?

They are nothing more than ants that can be easily manipulated.

As long as he's alive, it's just to leave some lineage for his dead brother.

Ran Mouri's knuckles turned white from clenching them so tightly.

This person marked the beginning of Qingze's bleak life.

While he was basking in the glory of having secured his position in the family, Qingze was enduring immense suffering.

While he was enjoying a life of power and wealth, Qingze was suffering.

He took it all for granted, without any remorse or regret, and was full of pride and smugness.

Although he spoke of other crimes in the same way, she felt not only anger, but also shock and chilling.

But it involves Qingze.

She felt a fire burning inside her, a fire that was exploding, angry, and sorrowful.

She wanted to do something, to vent her anger.

"You hate your brother so much that you want to kill your nephew too?"

Qingze seemed very curious and continued to ask questions in a gossipy tone.

“I didn’t originally intend to make a move,” Fukuda Shin said with a smirk, as if he had done a great favor. “We’re brothers, and I’m not that crazy. But this kid is restless.”

His tone suddenly turned cold, tinged with offended anger, "He insists his parents' deaths are suspicious and is even investigating! If he actually digs something up... then he can't blame me. Rather than leaving a bomb in the ground, it's better to let his family reunite and save ourselves the trouble!"

"How was he killed? Isn't he still alive? Tell me."

"He realized I was involved and went to Nara to find evidence. My men went to arrest him, but he disappeared into the mountains. Later, they reported back that they had found the body and sent back a photo, so I believed them..."

"What photo?"

"A corpse with its face gnawed to pieces by wild beasts, but its body shape resembles that kid. Ha, it's not him? What a lucky escape!"

His tone carried a hint of frustration at his failure, but no trace of relief that his nephew had narrowly escaped death.

"Whom did you send to arrest him?"

"Kishimoto, Kuriyama, Tomoki..."

Ran Mouri heard a name she had heard before.

Fukuda Kishimoto!

This person, this Fukuda family lackey who once feigned concern to test her, is actually one of the murderers who personally surrounded and cornered young Aozawa back then!

The rage instantly breached the dam.

After Qingze gestured with his eyes to indicate the last arc.

boom--

A dull, cracking sound echoed through the quiet tea room!

The fist, brimming with rage, was utterly devoid of any fancy moves, slamming hard into Fukuda Shin's face.

"Ugh!"

Fukuda Shinren could only manage to utter half a short scream.

He had no time to react; it was as if he had been hit head-on by a speeding truck, and he was thrown backward violently!

The expensive mahogany low table was smashed to pieces by his heavy body, wood chips and fragments of delicate teaware flying everywhere. He fell awkwardly into the mess.

His face, already swollen from being slapped twice by Qingze, instantly turned into a pig's head, with a horrifying bluish-purple bruise covering his well-maintained cheekbones and eye sockets.

His lips were torn, and a stream of saliva mixed with tea and blood dripped uncontrollably down, landing on his luxurious clothes.

Fukuda Shin felt his head buzzing, as if he had been stuffed into a wildly vibrating bell. Stars flashed before his eyes, his vision blurred, and the intense pain, delayed by a second, surged in like a tsunami, almost suffocating him.

Ouch! It hurts much more than those two slaps before.