Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

He stared in shock, his eyes widening.

Could it really be true?

He turned his head to look at Vermouth, who was looking out the window and showed no intention of answering him.

He guessed right?

To be honest, before this, he was only a little skeptical, but Vermouth's silent reaction made him somewhat believe it.

Sensing that Vermouth was in a bad mood, he didn't say anything more, thinking about going back and talking to his older brother, his thoughts wandering.

If Vermouth and the older brother are having an affair, then what is the relationship between Ran Mouri and the older brother?

He quickly shook his head, trying to clear the jumbled thoughts from his mind.

How could Ran Mouri possibly have anything to do with her older brother?

Even if Vermouth had a relationship with her older brother, it was only a physical one, and there was no emotional connection between them.

Not everyone is like Koniac, who loves pure love.

In the back seat, bored, Fryward caught a crucial piece of information and involuntarily leaned forward slightly.

Cohen sat up abruptly, all sleepiness gone.

Fryward's gaze lingered on Vermouth's retreating figure and Vodka's thoughtful profile, a playful smile curving his lips.

Is Ran Mouri Vermouth's daughter?

She did a quick check last night and found that Ran Mouri is just an ordinary high school student. Her father is Kogoro Mouri, and her mother is Eri Kisaki. Her parents separated years ago, and it is suspected that their relationship is not good.

If Ran Mouri is Vermouth's daughter, then that makes sense.

After giving birth to Ran Mouri, she switched Eri Kisaki's daughter with hers and secretly sent her to her biological father.

Eri Kisaki discovers something is wrong, her relationship with her husband breaks down, and they separate.

"real or fake?"

She looked at Vermouth, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Vermouth finally moved.

She slowly pulled a cigarette from the pack, lit it with a click, and the pale blue flame reflected the half-smile on her lips.

She took a deep breath, slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, and through the hazy smoke, looked at the inquisitive faces of the two people in the back seat through the rearview mirror, a hint of mockery in her eyes:

“Imagination is a good thing. However…” she changed the subject slightly, with a hint of mockery, “If you insist on interpreting ‘simple appreciation’ as ‘deep mother-daughter affection,’ I can’t stop you.”

"Just admiration?" Fryward leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and shook his head with a light laugh. "I don't see anything admirable about that girl."

A little girl immersed in love, innocent, naive, and romantic.

There are tons of people like that.

Aside from her undeniably attractive appearance, she couldn't see anything particularly special about her.

The more Vermouth denied it, the more she believed it.

It's worth noting that Vermouth's gentle attitude towards Ran Mouri was completely undisguised, while her attitude towards Koniak was one of a mother-in-law's scrutiny and dissatisfaction with her son-in-law.

Isn't this just putting yourself in the role of a mother?

This also explains Koniak's connection with a high school girl—because the girl's true identity is Vermouth's daughter.

Vermouth glanced at her, and wisps of gray smoke rose, blurring her expression.

She chuckled, her tone carrying a hint of sighing and indulgence.

"Then you can treat her as my daughter."

Her concern for Xiaolan is common knowledge. She has always played the role of protector, and the added rumor about her daughter is more beneficial than harmful to Xiaolan.

With that shrewd guy in the FBI, he won't easily believe such rumors.

As for the organization's internal structure...

Anyone who wants to make a move on "Koniac's girlfriend" or "Vermouth's daughter" should first consider their own worth.

As for that high and mighty BOSS...

A cold glint flashed in Vermouth's eyes.

He wouldn't take such nonsense to heart.

Cohen listened silently to the gossip.

The idea that Ran Mouri is Vermouth's daughter is just too outrageous. Who would believe that?

He looked at Fred beside him and saw a knowing glint in Fred's eyes.

Cohen: "..."

No way... there are actually people who believe this kind of thing?

Chapter 422 Gin, you really are a heartthrob

In the lounge.

Gin, dressed in all black, sat on the sofa, leaning back with his legs crossed, cigarette smoke curling from his fingertips.

He slightly raised his head, looking towards the entrance, his expression as cold as a knife.

Vermouth, walking at the front, seemed oblivious to the intimidating gaze. She calmly walked to the single sofa opposite Gin and sat down gracefully.

"How's the mission going?"

Gin got straight to the point, his words concise and to the point, his voice icy.

Vermouth leaned back slightly, naturally stretching her waist, as if to relieve the fatigue after a long journey.

She shook her head and sighed, seemingly somewhat saddened.

"The mission went smoothly. Gin, you're such a cold man. The first thing you ask is about the mission, you don't even care about me. I even confessed my feelings to you last night."

Gin: "..."

She should have kept quiet, because mentioning Gin brought up the unpleasant experience of being harassed by two people the previous night.

Fryward felt a little amused, so she laughed.

Gin frowned, his cold gaze piercing through the smoke and landing on Freward, an invisible pressure spreading outwards.

Fryward felt a bit thrilled after being attacked by two people's cold air conditioning in one day.

She walked over nonchalantly, ignoring Gin's murderous aura, and then gave him a flirtatious wink.

“Gin, it must be so comfortable to be with you in the summer.”

Gin: "..."

He narrowed his eyes, his expression scrutinizing.

When Fryward first came to Japan, he was quite restrained, but now it seems he's starting to reveal his true nature.

Facing Gin's scrutinizing gaze, Flaward shrugged, his tone exaggerated.

"Don't look at me like that. If I hadn't failed to draw a dare, I would have confessed to you too."

“Hehe…” Vermouth covered her mouth and chuckled, “Gin, you really are a heartthrob.”

Gin: "..."

Gin stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, took off his trench coat, and casually draped it over the back of the sofa.

He twisted his neck, making a slight clicking sound, and his cold gaze locked onto Freward.

"A frivolous attitude and meaningless banter."

Gin's cold voice carried a heavy sense of oppression as he looked down at the person in front of him, his expression indifferent.

"Your ability report shows that you are proficient in close combat. Now, prove it to me."

Fryward's smile vanished, his eyes instantly sharpening as he launched the first attack.

Gin moved. Without any unnecessary movements, he took a step closer, moving with incredible speed. He parried Fryward's fist with his left arm, and his right fist, like a hammer, slammed straight into her abdomen.

boom!

Fryward groaned, the sharp pain causing her to arch her back instantly.

She reacted quickly, enduring the pain, and delivered a vicious knee strike to Gin's ribs.

Gin sidestepped, and almost simultaneously, his right leg swept out with a whoosh!

Fryward was kicked in the shinbone, and the excruciating pain made her lose her balance and stagger backward.

She gritted her teeth, trying to steady herself and fight back, but Gin didn't give her a chance.

He followed her like a shadow, closing in on her and grabbing her wrist with lightning speed with his left hand, twisting it forcefully!

Fryward felt pain, and his body was involuntarily pulled to the side.

Gin's right hand formed a claw, precisely aiming for her throat!

Flaward's pupils constricted, and she desperately twisted her neck to try and dodge. Gin's hand grazed the skin on her neck, leaving a bloody mark, and the next second, it changed from a claw to a palm, slamming hard below her collarbone!

"Uh!"

Fryward was sent flying by a slap, crashing heavily against the cold wall of the lounge with a dull thud.

She slid to the ground, clutching her chest and coughing violently, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, her face deathly pale.

The entire process of being knocked down after making a move was incredibly fast. Gin stood still, his breathing steady, without even a lapse in his breath.

He looked down at Fryward, who was leaning against the wall, his eyes devoid of any emotion, only cold scrutiny.

"Is this all the quality you've got?"

An assassin with fighting skills that even Ran Mouri couldn't match.

Fryward coughed up blood, unable to speak from the pain, but his eyes gleamed with an almost fanatical, twisted light as he stared intently at Gin.

So strong!

Seeing Gin defeated by Koniak in a few moves that day, she subconsciously underestimated Gin. However, when they actually fought, she couldn't even last a few moves against him!

Gin took a step closer, and the shadow fell over her.

"In an organization, good-for-nothings don't last long. If you want to play with fire, first consider whether you have the ability to avoid being burned to death."

After saying that, he stopped looking at Fryward on the ground, turned to Vodka and Cohen, and gestured with his chin toward the fighting room.

"Extra training."

After saying that, he bent down, picked up his trench coat, and walked towards the fighting room.

Vodka slumped down, looking miserable as he followed his older brother.

Cohen's shoulders slumped.

Why did he suffer this undeserved misfortune?

Half an hour later, Gin walked out of the lounge and walked steadily back to the sofa where he had been sitting, as if he had never left.

Vermouth remained seated, while Flavord had already left. She watched Gin sit down again, her fingertips lightly tapping the armrest.

Gin placed his hands on his knees, slightly raised his chin, and stared intently at Vermouth, not missing a single expression from her.

"Binga went missing. Last contact was made while cleaning up Chianti."

Vermouth raised an eyebrow slightly, her tone laced with a hint of inquisitive languor: "Dead?"

"vanished into thin air."

"Rum's side...not a single clue?"

Gin leaned back in his chair, his expression indifferent. "Binga has read the emails but hasn't replied. He's probably already been captured."

Vermouth frowned, and the movement of her fingers stopped:

"The FBI? They were already targeting Binga last time. Plus the Eye of the Sky fireworks... It's not impossible for the police to secretly pull off a coordinated operation with the FBI."

"Arak confirmed that the police took no action. The FBI is the prime suspect."

"Hmph..." Vermouth let out a cold snort, a hint of seriousness flashing in her eyes.