Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

If Miss Mizunashi were to get into trouble because of his decision, he would never be able to forgive himself for the rest of his life!

He quickly ran to a deserted corner, took out his phone, and called Amuro Tooru.

After glancing at Conan twice, Aozawa turned his attention to the dead Makoto Fukuda.

He did not do anything to Makoto Fukuda.

Although he intends to kill him, he hasn't done anything yet.

The result was that he died not long after we talked to him for a few minutes. Isn't this just drawing attention to him?

Qingze even suspected that this guy might have used his own death to set up a trap for him.

Fortunately, he wasn't planning on causing any trouble today. The only medication he had brought with him had already been used up, so he was completely clean and had nothing to fear from being checked.

His gaze swept over Fukuda Makoto and landed on a small, inconspicuous pinhole on the back of his neck.

Needle hole...injection...

Fukuda Makoto must have been injected with something and then died.

To commit such a crime in such a public place and succeed, this murderer must be quite capable.

His gaze fell on the last few people Fukuda Makoto had contact with, and he had a good idea of ​​who had killed them.

The banquet hall, now filled with the dead, became noisy and chaotic. Plainclothes police officers pulled out their badges and, with the help of their colleagues, took control of the scene.

The entrances and exits were blocked, and the entire clubhouse was immediately placed on alert.

The banquet was forced to be suspended, and several bodyguards escorted the Japanese imperial family members, the prime minister's wife, and others who were attending the banquet to leave.

Even at the scene of the murder of the senator, they had the privilege of leaving.

The remaining personnel were kept in the banquet hall for screening.

Including Aozawa's target—Kawasaki Reita.

Qingze looked at the still-leftover mushrooms and kelp on the table and felt a pang of regret.

Not many people have taken it, and it's unknown when the drug will take effect.

Conan plugged the earphone cord into the earphone jack, talking on the phone while keeping an eye on the events in the banquet hall.

"Mr. Amuro, something's happened!"

"I already know."

Amuro Tooru's expression was also not good. There are only about a hundred people like this in all of Japan.

Representative Kawasaki didn't die, but Representative Fukuda did, which is no small matter.

“Mr. Amuro, do you think it’s possible that this is a feint? They’re using a fake target to distract us while their real target is Representative Fukuda.”

"That's possible. But it's also possible that Representative Fukuda's death was an accident. You just examined the body; did you find anything?"

"His breath didn't taste almonds, so it wasn't cyanide poisoning. A small injection hole was found on the back of his neck with very fresh tissue fluid seeping out; that should be the cause of death..."

"Then it seems the murderer is one of the last people that Representative Fukuda had contact with, so it's unlikely that the organization was behind it..." Amuro Tooru's words were certain.

The organization, acting in such a public place, certainly wouldn't leave a single murderer alive.

For assassinations of important figures, they either use immediate drugs like aptx4869, which cannot be detected by autopsy, to fake sudden cardiac death, or they use delayed-acting drugs to allow ample time for the assassination to occur.

The methods used in this case are completely out of character for the organization.

"We still can't let our guard down with Representative Kawasaki..."

Chapter 35 What happened?

Qingze undoubtedly became one of the suspects who received special attention.

Conan Edogawa, the little boy, also quietly followed among the police, listening to them question and investigate several suspects.

Before Makoto Fukuda died, he had contact with seven or eight people, but only three of them had brief physical contact with him.

They are Qingze, a pot-bellied real estate developer, and a female senior manager of a construction company.

Two men and one woman – a classic three-way choice.

Makoto Fukuda's ideas are all about real estate, so apart from Aozawa, a freelancer, the other two are both professionals in the real estate industry.

After checking his belongings, Conan finally learned Aozawa's name.

"Brother Qingze, why did Mr. Fukuda talk to you?"

He had seen Fukuda Makoto talking to Aozawa before, and the two didn't seem to know each other.

But why would a member of parliament randomly choose to speak to an unknown nobody?

Looking at the little one in front of him, Qingze showed a sentimental expression.

"He said I look a bit like his deceased brother, and seeing me reminds him of his brother..."

Conan carefully examined Aozawa's face and discovered that he did indeed look somewhat similar to Makoto Fukuda.

Especially the nose and mouth, the similarity is about 70%.

However, the beautiful features on Aozawa were less effective on the older and heavier Makoto Fukuda.

"Mr. Aozawa, did you know Mr. Fukuda before?"

"No, this is also my first time meeting Mr. Fukuda." Aozawa answered his question patiently.

Qingze's identity is clean and his past is traceable, so he has nothing to fear from investigation.

Conan asked very detailed questions, including about his freelance work, which he had only briefly mentioned when questioned by the police.

"What does Brother Qingze do?"

"I've been working on my creative projects lately, and I'm here to gather inspiration."

During a break in the questioning, Qingze casually asked a question.

"Little friend, are you a detective?"

"No, but I want to be a detective when I grow up!"

Qingze reached out and patted his head:

"That's amazing! Keep it up!"

Conan's gaze fell on Aozawa's right hand, which was wrapped in bandages.

He hadn't noticed it before, as his hand had been in his pocket the whole time.

"Brother Qingze, what happened to your hand?"

Qingze glanced at his right hand; a white bandage covered the entire back of his right hand, making it look like he was wearing a half-glove.

He suddenly lost interest in teasing people, his expression became listless and somewhat indifferent.

"Of course he's injured. Kid, if you want to be a detective, it's stupid to ask such an obvious question."

Aozawa's sudden change in style and tone startled Conan.

He chuckled awkwardly and didn't ask any more questions.

After several rounds of questioning and investigation, Qingze was found to be the least problematic.

He wasn't carrying any dangerous items, and the surveillance footage only showed him shaking hands with Fukuda Makoto; unlike the other two, he didn't engage in any intimate actions like hugging.

Conan turned his attention to the other two people.

If Qingze is innocent, then the murderer must be one of these two people.

Qingze took two steps to the open space next to him, distancing himself from the crowd.

I've had enough of the excitement; there's no need to join the crowd.

The various perfumes worn by the ladies were quite a torment for him, given his overly sensitive sense of smell.

His gaze swept across the entire area, lingering briefly on the mission target.

The target had not left; he stood in a corner, protected by several bodyguards.

Seeing the wary look on those people's faces, Qingze's lips curled up.

Be vigilant, be fearful, be suspicious, be uneasy!

When you let your guard down, that's when death comes.

……

It was completely dark when Ran Mouri returned home after a busy day. There was only a drunkard lying on the sofa, and Conan was nowhere to be seen.

She reluctantly threw the scattered beer bottles into the trash can, then went to the kitchen to make a hangover remedy.

While the soup was simmering, she took out her phone and called Conan.

Why aren't you home so late? Are you at Professor Agasa's place, or has something else happened?

The call was answered shortly after it started, and Xiaolan could hear some noise on the other end.

"Conan, where are you? Why aren't you home yet? It's so late."

"Professor Agasa is taking me out to play. I'm staying at Professor Agasa's house tonight and won't be coming back."

"Okay then, be careful."

Ran Mouri offered her usual concerned inquiry without pressing further. The child didn't want to tell her, and she wouldn't get any information out of her anyway.

After waking her father up and giving him some hangover soup, Ran Mouri turned on the television.

News of the congressman's death dominated television news.

These news media outlets, risking their lives for big news, completely disregarded the cold stares of the police at the scene and turned on their cameras with shining eyes.

Rena Mizunashi quickly switched into reporter mode, introducing the current situation while also mentioning today's charity sale.

Ran Mouri looked surprised. Had a member of parliament been murdered?

Fukuda, the councilor? He doesn't seem to be very famous. I haven't heard of any of his ideas or deeds.

The camera followed the reporter's direction and changed angle, and an inconspicuous child in the crowd came into Ran Mouri's field of vision.

The child, dressed in a blue suit and shorts, was not particularly noticeable in the crowd, but those who knew him well could recognize him at a glance.

"Conan?"

Conan, who had just been on the phone saying he was out having fun, suddenly appeared in the news footage, without Professor Agasa by his side.

Ran Mouri gazed at Conan, who was deep in thought on the screen, her long eyelashes drooping slightly, concealing the disappointment and sadness in her eyes.

Having regained some of his senses, Kogoro Mouri heard her questioning voice, rubbed his head, and looked up at the television.

"What's that kid doing in a place like this?"

This banquet looks very high-class; it's not something just anyone can attend.

"Professor Agasa probably took him there..."

Ran didn't see Professor Agasa, but since Conan said so, she'd just assume he was there too.

Kogoro Mouri scoffed, "This kid's got quite a lot going on every day."

"Alright, Dad, hurry up and wash up. You smell like alcohol, it stinks!"

Ran Mouri shoved Kogoro Mouri toward the restroom with a look of disgust. This father, who doesn't care about his image at all when he doesn't have a client, is simply unbearable to watch.

She could already imagine Qingze mentally ranting when he became her.

Returning to the television, Ran Mouri was surprised to find a disturbance in the banquet hall on the other end of the screen.

It started with one person in the background, then gradually two, three, four...

These people either screamed in terror, wept, or shouted with ferocious expressions, as if they had eaten hallucinogenic fungi, putting on a solo performance for the air in front of them.

Time and memory become disordered, and long-dead people appear before you, some happy, some sad, some weeping, some telling stories. They are immersed in their own world and are oblivious to the reactions of the outside world.

The cameras recorded the changes of these people in the background and projected them onto televisions in thousands of households. Their comical, one-man skit-like antics caused the ratings to soar.

Ran Mouri looked bewildered.

"What happened?"