Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

[Current time 10:34. The solitary confinement cell will automatically open in 72 hours.]

Chapter 300 A Tribute to This Legendary Scapegoat

Through the dim light of the corridor, she saw the scene of the solitary confinement cell.

This is a very narrow solitary confinement cell, only one meter wide and two meters high. Inside is a peculiarly shaped, seemingly solid iron bed, with a 20cm gap between the bed and the door.

This 20cm gap is the only space where one can stand and move around.

This environment is incredibly oppressive just to look at, and being inside would be a huge challenge to both body and mind.

Ran Mouri had been prepared for this for a long time.

Seeing that there was a bed inside, I felt a little relieved.

It's good that there's a bed; at least she can lie down, instead of having to stand in solitary confinement for 72 hours.

Her gaze fell on the ceiling, which was pitch black, making it impossible to tell whether there were any hidden cameras inside.

As I entered the solitary confinement cell, the iron door behind me clicked shut.

The world seemed to fall into absolute silence in an instant.

Intense darkness also descended.

It was so dark that it felt like entering a void.

The smell of damp mold and rust wafted to my nose, along with a hint of fishy odor.

She turned around and slowly backed away until her calves touched the cold edge of the bed before slowly sitting down.

The weight of his body pressed down on the hard iron bed, producing a faint metallic crackling sound that stood out sharply in the deathly silence.

Now, only she remains.

Ran Mouri had never "heard" her own existence so clearly before.

She seemed to hear the blood rushing through her ear canals, each heartbeat like a dull drumbeat.

The sounds of inhaling through the nose and exhaling from deep within the throat were amplified infinitely in this vacuum-like silence.

There is no visual difference between having your eyes open and closed, and you can't even perceive the time scale.

The musty and fishy smells still stubbornly lingered in my nasal cavity, so unpleasant that it made me want to suffocate.

In such a space, every minute is torture.

She wasn't sure how long she could stay inside, but she had to give it a try.

If she really can't hold on any longer, she'll break down the door and leave.

Ran Mouri plugged her nose with a tissue and lay down on the bed.

This quiet environment is quite suitable for thinking things through.

As long as you can calm your mind and eliminate the influence of taste, hearing and other senses.

Ran Mouri's mind was filled with a jumble of thoughts, and for a moment she didn't know what to think.

One moment Aozawa's face pops into her mind, the next Sonoko, then her parents, then her teacher, then Shinichi.

She's going to stay here for three days. Can Qingze handle her mother?

Aozawa should be in class right now. He must be very angry. I wonder if Sonoko will notice anything amiss.

And then there's Sera, a very perceptive detective.

Hopefully, Qingze will be angry, but he won't forget to play his part.

I don't know if the teacher will contact her in the next few days, but Qingze will probably find an excuse to refuse to meet with the teacher.

After thinking it over, she realized that Qingze didn't actually have anything for her to worry about.

Qingze has always played her role very well; on the contrary, it is she who makes Qingze worry.

She sighed softly, the sound echoing loudly in the narrow space.

She stared at the pitch-black ceiling. Opening her eyes or closing them made no difference here; all around her was pitch blackness.

She wasn't sure if there were any surveillance cameras inside, those invisible infrared cameras that could capture her facial expressions even in the darkness.

Therefore, she cannot show the expression that belongs to Ran Mouri.

She needs to remember that she is now Koniak.

A brightly lit room not far from the solitary confinement cell provided a stark contrast to the darkness of the cell.

Dr. Payton, dressed in a black trench coat, yawned. Beside him, Fiano, wearing a white lab coat, adjusted his glasses and stared blankly at the young man lying on the bed in the surveillance footage.

He chuckled, resting his elbow on the edge of the control panel, his gaze fixed on the gray screen: "This is the first time I've seen Koniak in solitary confinement, stuffing his nose with tissues and stuff, it's kind of funny."

Dr. Payton's fingertips unconsciously traced the cold metal edge of the control panel. His gaze swept across the figures on the screen, then he looked up at Fiano, his tone carrying the rigor of a researcher:

Is it funny?

It's just normal behavior, what's so funny about it?

Without waiting for Fiano's answer, he paused and pressed on, "First time? You haven't seen any records before?"

Fiano shrugged and spread his hands: "Do you think I'm that free? I'm only here to help you with your experiment."

He changed the subject, his gaze falling on the blue progress bar flashing in the center of the control panel. "So, when does it begin?"

“The harmonic transmitter has been activated.” Dr. Payton tapped the screen with his finger, bringing up a line of fluctuating green data.

“The frequency has stabilized within the threshold. As long as he becomes mentally exhausted, he will automatically fall into the deep consciousness space, just like last time.”

“But there are no electrode pads.” Fiano pointed to the prompt box in the corner of the screen. “We can’t attach them to the top of his head to monitor his brain state, nor can we collect brainwaves in real time or suppress his logical thinking. How can we accurately alter his consciousness like this?”

Dr. Payton didn't rush to answer; instead, he adjusted the transmitter's knob, causing the green frequency curve on the screen to become smoother.

“The consciousness wave frequencies collected last time are still in the system, and I have corrected the frequency bands based on that data. Last time it was observation mode, like watching a movie through a screen to retrieve his memories; this time it is immersive intervention, and he will really [return] to the scene of his memory.”

"Now, we just have to wait."

......

Snowflakes fluttered down, covering the campus with a layer of white frost.

Qingze returned to the classroom to continue his lessons.

Ever since hearing that "secret," Sonoko Suzuki has been in a state of complete disarray.

Kaito Kid?

How could it be Kaito Kid?

Thinking about it carefully, it seems that Aozawa has never appeared in the same frame as Kaito Kid.

With such skill, it's understandable if he were Kaito Kid.

But his height and build don't quite match...

She remembered that Kaito Kid had played Sera.

But Ran wouldn't lie to her about something like this. Could it be that Kaito Kid knows the legendary bone-shrinking technique?

It should be.

Kaito Kid can impersonate so many people; he definitely has that ability.

Last time at the art museum, in order to catch Kaito Kid, Ran jumped on the hang glider when he used it and flew around in the sky with him.

It was probably during that incident that the true identity of Phantom Thief Kid was discovered.

No wonder she sometimes felt a sense of familiarity when she saw Qingze.

It turns out to be Kidd, whom I've seen many times before!

I see! I see!

The more Sonoko Suzuki thought about it, the brighter her eyes became!

During break, Hondou Eiyuu and Sera Masumi came over to ask questions, but Sonoko single-handedly turned them away.

Looking at Suzuki Sonoko, who seemed to have been injected with chicken blood, Aozawa smiled inwardly.

The title of Phantom Thief Kid is really useful.

A tribute to this legendary scapegoat.

Chapter 301 Memories Immersed Within

Ran Mouri drifted off to sleep without realizing it. The iron bed beneath her was hard, and even though she was dressed, it exuded a chilling coldness typical of winter.

She shouldn't be able to sleep.

But, by some chance, she fell asleep.

Her consciousness seemed to have fallen into a vortex of dreams, layer upon layer, and she seemed to have forgotten who she was.

Before him stood an unfamiliar city street, in the shadows of a dark corner, his body covered in mud and blood, like a savage who had strayed from a primitive society into a modern city, completely out of place.

A feeling of hunger rose from his stomach, and with each breath, his stomach ache. He felt as if he had been starving for a long time.

Someone spotted him and exclaimed in surprise.

He stared blankly at the person who appeared before him; the person was blurry and faceless.

Am I dreaming?

A hand reached out, wanting to take his hand.

He looked at the stains on his hands and hid them behind his back.

The person in front of him seemed to say something, but he couldn't hear it.

A cookie was shoved into his hand, and he quickly stuffed it into his mouth, finally calming the rumbling in his stomach a little.

He was taken to the police station.

A kind policewoman gently took him to wash his face, and he saw his own face in the mirror.

The thirteen-year-old boy had a head of incongruous white hair, and his black eyes reflected the bewilderment on his face.

Is this what I look like?

It seems that I really do look like this.

"What's your name?"

"Where do you live?"

Who are your parents?

One question after another was asked, and he just shook his head.

He doesn't remember anything, he remembers nothing at all.

The two policemen, whose faces were indistinct, exchanged a glance and both frowned.

Not long after, a policeman came over with some food and a glass of milk.

"Son, you must be hungry. Eat first. You're safe at the police station now."

His gaze fell on the policeman's face, and he looked at him curiously for a couple more times.

The person's face is clear.

"Thank you."

He thanked him sincerely.

He slowly finished his food, yawned, and felt sleepy.

"If you're sleepy, take a nap."

"But I'll make this place dirty."

He heard himself say that.

The police officer, whose face was clearly visible, didn't seem to care about the dirt on his head and rubbed it. "It's okay, this is the police station."

His smile was so gentle that it inspired genuine trust in people.