Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

He lowered his head, his fingers tapping on the keyboard, and began drafting a preliminary monitoring framework for the upcoming "family package" experiment.

Gin glanced at the rearview mirror; the silent figure in the back seat remained shrouded in shadow, showing no reaction to the discussion in the front.

"Koniak, devise a plan."

Qingze remained silent, making no move, as if he hadn't heard anything.

Gin frowned, somewhat annoyed.

He preferred listening to Koniak's trash talk to Koniak's silent, gloomy, and dangerous state.

At least, even if you find him annoying, you'll still get to work.

But given the current situation, it's impossible to expect Koniak to do any work.

Sigh. We still have to rely on him for the mission.

In the dead of night, all was quiet.

The Porsche, like a drop of oil mixed with ink, slid into the quiet block where the target residence was located, turned off, and fell silent.

The two figures in the front seat landed on the ground.

Gin waited for a long time, but the person in the back seat remained motionless, showing no sign of coming out.

He opened the car door directly, and the dark muzzle of a gun was pointed at him.

"Koniak!"

Qingze opened his eyelids, his scarlet eyes flickering like eerie will-o'-the-wisps in the night.

He stared at the gun barrel pointed at him, his eyes filled with a violent and disgusting intensity that seemed about to overflow like a black tide about to burst its banks.

"Do you know that someone keeps pointing a gun at me...?"

His voice was hoarse, and his bloodshot eyes were clearly visible under the dim streetlights. He exuded an aura of extreme instability and impending collapse.

"...It's so annoying."

Gin felt a chill run down his spine, and in the instant the other person finished speaking, he swiftly withdrew his gun!

The movements were so fast that they almost left afterimages.

Almost at the same instant Gin holstered his gun, Fiano, who had been keeping a close eye on Koniak's condition, slammed the back door shut with a loud bang.

The force was so great that the entire car shook slightly.

The car doors separated the inside from the outside.

Fiano quickly took half a step back, his eyes behind his glasses fixed on the blurry darkness inside the car window, his breathing slightly erratic, and the lingering finger marks on his neck seemed to throb again.

I'm about to have a seizure.

Hurry up.

Gin didn't hesitate for a second, and without even glancing back at the car, he turned and quickly left.

Fiano immediately followed, his hands, which were carrying the suitcase, turning slightly white.

Outside the car, the two figures quickly disappeared into the distance.

Inside the car, deathly silence returned.

Qingze remained leaning back in his seat, his scarlet eyes slowly moving in the darkness before finally looking up at the roof of the car.

He raised his hand, pressed hard on his throbbing temples, and pulled a biscuit from his pocket.

The cookies are sweet and crispy.

He ate in small bites, as if savoring his only solace.

Chapter 529 Dr. Payton will be in charge of controlling your condition.

Gin stood in the shade under the tree, gazing at his car in the distance.

Fiano stood to the side, rubbing his neck.

Seeing that there was no movement from the other side, the two of them breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why is Koniak's condition still so unstable?" Fiano wondered, still shaken.

Gin's gaze fell on him, a mocking smile crossing his face.

"The fact that he didn't kill you outright is already a sign that things are stable."

After working day and night for a few days, Koniak vented his frustrations and said some trashy things to annoy people, but he still got back to work.

Now, it's the person he hates most who wants to arrest people for human experimentation, and given that he's already in a volatile state, it's no wonder he's having a breakdown.

Fiano was speechless for a moment.

What about the mission?

“Keep going. I’ll have Vodka come pick us up and take that family of five away.”

Gin sneaked into the mansion alone, his figure blending into the darkness of the room like a ghost.

He entered each room in turn, covering the mouths and noses of the sleeping family of five with soft cloths soaked in potent anesthetic, dragging them into a deeper coma.

The whole process was silent and without any surprises.

After confirming that everyone was unconscious, he put them in the living room before walking to the back door and opening it a crack.

Fiano, who was waiting outside, immediately slipped inside.

The room was brightly lit, and the curtains were tightly closed.

His eyes, behind his glasses, quickly swept over the five figures lying on the ground, as if assessing a batch of newly arrived precision instruments.

His gaze lingered briefly on the child's innocent face, a mixture of excitement and pure academic inquiry rising on his face.

“Two aging periods, two maturity periods, and one growth period…” he murmured to himself, his hoarse voice barely concealing his excitement, “A perfect sample of age gradients.”

He crouched down and quickly checked everyone's pulse and pupil response.

"Although two of them do not carry the target bloodline, they serve as a good control group...comparing mutation rates, side effects, and metabolic rates..."

He stood up, adjusted his glasses, and turned to Gin, his tone one of the self-assuredness of a researcher demanding more material:

"Five samples are enough for the baseline control group, but it is far from sufficient to analyze the genetic expression lineage, plot the dose-response curve, and exclude individual random variations."

“Gin, I need more. At least three to five similar family units…”

Gin stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the shadows by the door. His face was obscured by the brim of his hat, and only his fingers were tapping rhythmically on his elbows.

Expanding the scope of operations means the risks increase exponentially, but Fiano is right: fragmented data cannot support in-depth conclusions.

The "activity" exhibited by APTX-4869 is one of the organization's highest priority breakthrough directions.

"Yes. But I want to see some valuable progress, in stages."

For APTX to achieve a breakthrough, appropriate risks can be taken, but there must be a clear timeframe for returns.

Vodka arrived quickly by car.

Upon seeing his older brother, he wanted to ask, "Aren't you on a mission with Koniak?"

What about the Koniaks?

But with outsiders present, he kept quiet and didn't ask any more questions, immediately getting back to work.

The laptop screen glowed, and his thick fingers moved nimbly across the screen as he mimicked the family's tone of voice, sending a message to important contacts on the family's cell phone announcing a "last-minute family trip."

Then they set up their social media backends to publish "travel photos" compiled from online materials at regular intervals over the next few days.

Of course, this is just the beginning.

Every trip must eventually come to an end.

After the five people "die" in the laboratory after exhausting their resources, a "car accident" with no survivors is needed to completely close the case. The case is then quickly closed using an informant planted in the Metropolitan Police Department, and everything is defined as an unfortunate accident.

They need to keep a low profile.

The organization must be completely hidden behind the curtain of ordinary tragedy in the least risky way possible.

With everything arranged, Vodka and Gin worked together to quietly transfer the five unconscious people into the van they had brought with them, as if they were cargo.

Fiano carefully followed along, ensuring that the "sample" was not accidentally damaged during transport.

Finally, Gin returned to the house to do a final clean-up, erasing all traces of intrusion that were not part of his daily life.

The family car, which belonged to the family, slowly drove out of the garage, heading somewhere unknown.

Qingze stood in the darkness, taking in everything.

He lowered his eyes.

Long eyelashes concealed the crimson in her eyes, as well as all the surging emotions, casting only two small shadows on her pale face.

The night breeze ruffled the messy strands of hair on his forehead, brushing against his skin and causing a slight itch, but he seemed completely oblivious.

He stood there, like an outsider, yet also like a tacitly admitted accomplice.

The vehicles had completely disappeared into the distance. The streets returned to deathly silence, as if nothing had ever happened.

Qingze slowly raised his head, looking at the now empty house, and then at the deeper and farther, endless night sky.

The winter wind swept across the land, and he himself was a wisp of that wind.

The black and gray colors were mixed together, making them indistinguishable and blending into one.

He turned around and started walking towards where the Porsche was parked.

As I got into the car, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I picked it up and saw it was an email from the boss.

I am aware of your situation.

[Go immediately to the Setagaya Meteorological Observatory in Tokyo. Dr. Peyton will be in charge of managing your condition.]

Follow the instructions immediately.

Qingze's gaze fell on the address on the screen, lingering for a few seconds. Then, he looked away and glanced at the time in the upper right corner of the phone screen.

Four o'clock in the morning.

A deeply sarcastic smile played on his lips. At this time, in this place.

How thoughtful...

With a low growl from the engine, the Porsche tore through the thick, impenetrable darkness and silence of the early morning, heading towards the edge of the city.

The Setagaya Meteorological Observatory lies quietly in the suburbs, surrounded by towering walls.

Inside the open space, various meteorological monitoring instruments cast strangely shaped shadows under the faint starlight and ground lights in the early morning.

Qingze's gaze swept over the weather monitoring devices, finally settling on the most conspicuous, towering parabolic weather radar antenna dome in the center of the field.

The white dome looked like a giant mushroom or a closed giant eye in the night.

"Lord Koniak, please follow me."

Researchers in white coats respectfully led Qingze into the underground research institute.

The underground space suddenly opened up, as bright as day, and was excessively spacious.

A few figures in white coats moved silently in the distance.

The huge silver cabinets were neatly arranged, and thick cables ran orderly through the overhead cable trays. Some complex devices, whose names he did not know and which flashed various colored indicator lights, emitted a low hum of operation.

There was a faint smell of ozone and coolant in the air.

The scene here is more like a physics or engineering laboratory than a biomedical facility.

I'm taking the day off today, so I'll post some jokes.

I'll share some dessert recipes from before, so you won't have to wait in vain today.

This is unrelated to the main text and should not be substituted into the main text.

[Joke 1]

Qingze was taking a nap when he vaguely sensed something had changed; there was a hand on his waist. He opened his eyes and saw that they had indeed switched places again.