Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Every word was stained with tears, and every tear was filled with hatred.

This is the revenge of someone who has nothing.

It was also the only ritual he was able to complete while he was still alive.

As Ran Mouri listened to Yuichi Nakamura's broken and indignant narration, her heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, a dull ache throbbing within her.

Over the past year, she has witnessed and heard too many tragic stories, each one leaving her feeling oppressed and overwhelmed with a deep sadness.

But this time, listening to a living person recount in a hoarse voice how their flesh and dignity were crushed inch by inch, the impact was still so sharp that it almost suffocated her.

Who would want to commit a crime if they weren't forced to?

If there were other ways, who would want to take this path?

She looked at Yuichi Nakamura's withered profile, which contained not only hatred, but also the lingering, distorted marks of pain left behind after being mercilessly crushed by a massive machine.

She was acutely aware that some "evil" in this world does not originate from an individual's innate wickedness, but rather is born from the soil of injustice, nurtured by silent indulgence, and ultimately erupts in the most tragic way by ordinary people driven to the brink of despair.

This glamorous world has two faces.

On one hand, there is the dazzling achievement of "Gateway to the Sky," accompanied by flowers, applause, and wealth.

On the other hand, there are the sweat, blood, tears, and even the silent loss of lives buried beneath the foundation.

She unconsciously drifted towards Qingze, who was not far away beside her.

His profile appeared somewhat cold and stern in the dim light. He was recording Nakamura Yuichi's words, his hatred, and his ruthlessness.

His eyes were slightly lowered, revealing no emotion.

Ran Mouri opened her mouth, as if to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

At this moment, any words are as thin as paper, unable to bear even the slightest weight of truth.

Mitsuhiko, standing to the side, clenched his fists and couldn't help but shout his rebuttal:

"But Uncle, this isn't revenge! You're creating panic, disrupting order, and indiscriminately killing innocent people! Your bomb almost killed everyone!"

No amount of reasons or excuses can cover up the fact that a crime was committed.

Creating panic, disrupting order, planting bombs, and launching indiscriminate attacks—these are the actions of terrorists!

Looking into the boy's angry and bright eyes, Nakamura Yuichi felt as if his heart had been suddenly pierced.

His lips trembled, and tears rolled down his cheeks again.

"If my daughter were still alive... she would say the same thing to me... but she's never coming back..."

"I planted three bombs. One under the stage, sending Kenta Karasuma to hell; one at the entrance to the banquet hall, to let those important figures taste fear too..."

His gaze shifted to the load-bearing column whose steel bars had been exposed by the explosion, and his voice softened:

"The last one is there."

"I'm sorry if I've accidentally hurt any of you."

He suddenly ripped open his shirt, revealing the bomb strapped to his body.

"I apologize to you with my life."

As he spoke, he backed away, walked towards the load-bearing column, and grasped the detonator with his fingers.

Upon seeing the bomb, Ran Mouri's pupils constricted, and she couldn't help but rush forward, her voice urgent:

"Mr. Nakamura! Please don't do this... Your daughter certainly wouldn't want you to end your life this way!"

Her cries were like a stone thrown into a deep pool, failing to create even the slightest ripple.

Yuichi Nakamura slowly shook his head, his gaze passing over her blankly, as if looking at some distant place.

"You need a reason to live... My reason is buried in the ground."

He murmured, as if talking to himself, or as if speaking to someone in the void.

He never intended to live when he arrived here today.

Mitsuhiko clenched his fist and shouted:

"But your daughter would be heartbroken if she saw you like this! You said she would agree with me, so she would never want you to become the kind of person she hates!"

"Child, you're right."

A faint, almost gentle smile appeared on Yuichi Nakamura's lips, but it was quickly swallowed up by immense sorrow.

"So... I am no longer worthy to be her father. Now, I am just an empty shell devoured by hatred."

Ayumi, who had been silent all along, suddenly cried out in a tearful voice:

"It's not just an empty shell! Uncle, you just apologized... You felt sorry for almost hurting us, you're a good person! You still have a heart!"

This naive remark caused Yuichi Nakamura to sway almost imperceptibly.

He closed his eyes, and two streams of turbid tears slid down his deep wrinkles.

"It's precisely because my heart still aches... that I can't continue. Every breath feels like swallowing glass."

“Every day I see this world reminds me that Reiko will never see it again.”

"This kind of pain...you cannot understand it."

Chapter 484 Please step back

Ran Mouri's eyes reddened; the feeling of watching someone walk towards death was too painful.

“But death isn’t the end! You’re gone, and all the pain and mistakes are truly set in stone, with no way to undo them! Live on, even if it’s just to remember your daughter…”

“I remember it every single moment.”

Yuichi Nakamura interrupted her, his voice suddenly becoming unusually calm, like the ashes after all emotions had been burned away.

"It is precisely because I remember her so clearly that I cannot bear the thought of this world continuing to function without her."

"Uncle, after you die, you'll never be able to eat anything delicious again..."

Qingze watched as the group tried to comfort the man who was determined to die, hoping to pull him out of the vortex of darkness.

His lips twitched slightly, but he couldn't quite articulate his true feelings.

What does living mean to Yuichi Nakamura?

My loved ones are gone, my life is over, and even if I were to live, it would only be to wait for death in prison.

He still has a conscience and feels guilty for hurting innocent people, and this guilt makes it even harder for him to live.

Death was a relief for him.

Why don't you just die?

How can you still have the nerve to live?

"You murderer!"

"You demon!"

You'll die a horrible death!

Accusations and rebukes echoed in his mind. Qingze closed his eyes and pressed his brow.

After a moment, he looked up and around.

Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, Genta, and Ran are still trying to dissuade them.

These kind and righteous people, with sincere and passionate hearts, wanted to dissuade Nakamura Yuichi from his suicidal act and wanted him to live.

He, along with Rumi Wakasa and Ai Haibara, remained silent, uttering not a word.

His lips twitched, a hint of self-mockery in his expression.

If it were him who wanted to die right now, probably only Xiaolan and these real children would want him to live.

Hearing the repeated attempts to dissuade him, Yuichi Nakamura took a deep breath and placed his thumb on the detonator.

"I appreciate your kindness."

He slowly scanned the faces of the people present, some anxious, some fearful, some sad, and some indifferent.

At the very end of his life, a few strangers tried to persuade him to live, so the world wasn't entirely bleak.

“I have come to the end of this road. My revenge is complete, and my sins... should also be ended by myself.”

"Please step back."

His tone carried an undeniable resolve, and an extreme calmness as if he had reached the edge of life and death.

All the words, all the reasoning, all the emotional appeals of the crowd seemed to hit an invisible yet solid wall, and were all bounced back.

Language, faced with an unwavering resolve to die, utterly loses its power.

Aozawa grabbed Ran Mouri, who was trying to rush over to stop him.

What we consider good may not be good for him.

"Living is not a happy thing for everyone."

"For him, death was rest, an end, and a release."

Looking at him, Ran Mouri seemed to see Aozawa from her dreams again.

He opened his arms, closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, and quietly welcomed death.

The way he sought liberation was so similar to how Nakamura Yuichi is now.

Tears streamed down her face as she leaned against Qingze's shoulder, clutching his clothes tightly.

Qingze gently stroked her back and sighed softly:

“I understand you don’t want to see someone die in front of you, but please respect other people’s wishes.”

"For some people, being forced to stay in this world is nothing but torture."

Ran Mouri looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"What if one day you were the one to choose death?"

Qingze reached out and gently wiped away the tears that had slid down his face.

"Will not."

Qingze gently pressed his forehead against hers, their noses touching, their breaths mingling.

"With you here, I won't choose death lightly."

Ran Mouri stared at him intently, as if trying to dispel the images from her dream.

A moment later, Qingze moved his forehead away, leaned close to her ear, and spoke very softly.

"If that day ever comes and I choose to die, it will be because I have no desire to live anymore."

Ran Mouri's heart skipped a beat, and she gripped his clothes tightly.

Qingze grabbed her and walked towards the emergency exit, his voice drifting into her mind from ahead:

"If one day I choose to die, please respect my wishes."

Aozawa left with Ran Mouri, while Ai Haibara and Rumi Wakasa also ran towards the safety passage with the three children.

Some people, once they've made up their minds to die, cannot be swayed.

They had to leave quickly to avoid being affected by the explosion.

Yuichi Nakamura walked up to the pillar and gently touched it.

This place holds the destruction he created, and it will soon become his grave.

With his back against the cold reinforced concrete, he seemed to have finally found his home. After the footsteps had completely faded away, he slowly closed his eyes in the quiet banquet hall.

boom--

The smoke from the explosion swept in, much stronger than the previous three explosions.

The building shuddered violently, the ceiling groaned under the strain, large sections of decorative coating peeled off, and dust poured down like a thick fog.

Spiderweb-like cracks spread rapidly from the base of the load-bearing column at the center of the explosion, like black lightning.

Rumbling--