Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

He sat alone in the shadows of a corner, a glass of untouched wine in front of him, his long, silvery hair disheveled, his head hanging low, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the cold glass.

Vodka's gaze followed Vermouth's and landed on the boy.

That was the first time he met Koniak.

Sixteen-year-old Koniak sat in the most secluded spot, several meters away from the people around him. He sat with his head down, indifferent to the things around him, and unusually invisible.

Vermouth smiled genuinely, her red lips curving upwards, and walked over gracefully in her high heels.

She stopped in front of the boy, her voice languid and familiar, carrying a hint of teasing from a long-awaited reunion.

"Koniak, long time no see. What are you doing hiding here all by yourself?"

As she spoke, she did what she would occasionally do in the past, with an almost indulgent gesture, and tried to reach out and gently lift his chin, forcing him to raise his head so that she could properly appreciate the face she had always admired.

Her movements were natural, intimate, and even carried a sense of casualness befitting a controller.

Vodka's attention was also completely focused on it, and he was curious about what this person, codenamed Koniak, who kept his head down, looked like.

however--

The very next second after Vermouth's fingertips touched Koniak's skin.

"Click".

A chilling crack rang out—the sound of a finger bone being snapped by brute force!

Before Vermouth's smile could even fade, excruciating pain struck!

Her pupils contracted sharply, but even faster came an immense and irresistible force.

Koniak, sitting down, raised his foot and kicked her hard in the stomach!

Bang—crash!

Vodka watched helplessly as the stunningly beautiful woman was thrown backward as if hit by a speeding car, crashing into and overturning a bunch of tables and chairs!

Expensive dresses scraped against the ground, and wine glasses and ashtrays shattered, scattering debris with a piercing noise.

The entire hall suddenly became eerily quiet.

All conversations and wiping sounds came to an abrupt halt at that moment.

Countless eyes were fixed on the hairy boy sitting in the shadows.

The boy slowly stood up, his eyebrows drooping, his scarlet eyes looking down at the woman lying on the ground with undisguised disgust and deathly stillness.

"This attitude is disgusting."

Vermouth leaned against the overturned table leg, barely managing to prop herself up with her elbows.

She looked up at the student she remembered, and for the first time, her charming eyes, which always held a smile, clearly reflected confusion and fear.

Where did that child who would obediently call her teacher, whose eyes held a subtle, almost imperceptible warmth... go?

This suffocating silence seemed to be the spark that ignited some dangerous fuse.

Without warning—

The boy moved.

He suddenly lunged at the nearest, still dumbfounded, lower-ranking member!

click-

The sound of a neck breaking rang out.

He snapped her fragile neck in one swift motion.

The slaughter began.

There were no roars, no maniacal laughter, only the simplest and most efficient movements, and the most primitive and violent methods.

His figure moved as fast as a ghost, weaving through the crowd. Each pause was accompanied by the sound of bones cracking, screams, and the muffled thud of life ending.

This is not a battle, but a one-sided massacre.

The boy's eyes were weary, even a little lifeless, as if he were just cleaning up a pile of unsightly garbage.

Vodka immediately hid behind the table and pretended to be dead, his heart pounding in his throat.

The killings began without warning and ended with remarkable efficiency.

When the last dying whimper faded into the pool of blood, only he and the heavily wounded Vermouth remained standing in the hall.

Underfoot was sticky, slippery blood and corpses lying haphazardly.

The boy stepped over a still-warm body and walked step by step toward the exit.

Blood dripped from the ends of her silvery-white hair, and in the dim light filtering in from outside the door, her profile was half scarlet and terrifying, half pale and ghostly.

In the corner, Vermouth coughed violently, each cough aggravating the pain in her abdomen.

She looked at the crimson stains and wreckage scattered on the ground, at the direction in which the boy had disappeared, and the bewilderment in her eyes was gradually replaced by a deeper chill.

She looked at Gin, who had arrived late.

"What's up with him?"

How did that seemingly harmless child, who secretly harbored kindness and intelligence, turn into this?

Gin looked at the blood and corpses all over the ground, his lips twitched, and his feelings were complicated.

"crazy."

Vodka witnessed the entire conversation.

Realizing that the evil spirit was gone, he went limp, gasped for breath, and his back was soaked with cold sweat.

He had just relaxed when a dark figure stood in front of him, casting a shadow over him.

His heart, which had just settled, jumped again. He slowly raised his head and saw a face that was completely different from Koniak's.

He stood up quickly, bowed his head, and said, "Lord Gin."

Gin glanced at Vodka, who looked disheveled but was unharmed, and said, "Not bad, you have some sense."

Vodka's gaze swept over the blood and corpses scattered on the ground, and he, who had dealt with killing, actually felt a little nauseous.

Chapter 539 Koniak, Stop

Memories flooded back, and Vodka rubbed the goosebumps that had risen on his arms before continuing to drive.

"He's been doing really well lately, hasn't he? He's even started dating someone..."

Compared to a few years ago, Koniak is now in absolutely the best possible condition.

If it weren't for the fact that he went on another rampage at the base recently, many people would have almost forgotten his formidable reputation.

Gin lit a cigarette and exhaled a puff of white smoke.

"That only applies when the illness isn't acting up."

Looking out the window at the road, and recalling Koniak's love-struck, obsessive behavior, he showed a look of disgust.

"Love is never a cure."

A relationship built on lies and deception will only drag you deeper into an abyss once the truth is revealed.

Vodka sighed.

indeed.

Hopefully, when Koniak suffers heartbreak, he won't drag the whole world down with him...

Just then, my phone rang; a call was coming in.

He glanced at it and answered the phone.

"Vodka, send me a copy of Ran Mouri's detailed information."

Vodka paused, turned on speakerphone, and looked at his older brother.

"Big brother, Fred asked me for information on Ran Mouri."

Gin's brows furrowed abruptly, a chilling light emanating from his grey-green eyes, his voice low and dangerous:

“Freward, my orders to you are to keep a close eye on Bourbon.”

"Yes, I'm keeping an eye on Bourbon, but he's too cautious. I'm going to look for other ways to get through to him."

"So you went to Ran Mouri?"

"Hmmmm~"

Fryward touched his aching wrist, his eyes dark.

Gin gave a cold laugh.

"Stop thinking about your little schemes, or no one can save you."

Even if he wanted to take revenge on Koniak, he did not actively target Ran Mouri.

Chianti wanted revenge, but didn't dare touch Ran Mouri.

Rum had been trying to use Moriland to control Koniak, but nothing had happened for a long time.

They're all being so cautious...

Some people can't see the times clearly and think they're too old for their lives.

……

Qingze felt as if his consciousness had split into two.

One looks at memories without joy or sorrow, with a heart as still as water.

A memory filled with repression, deathly silence, madness, and despair...

Sixteen-year-old Qingze was strapped to a specially designed experimental chair, with countless tubes and sensor patches connecting his body, which was covered with new and old scars.

The air was filled with the smell of ozone and a faint disinfectant.

On the monitor next to him, the curves representing heart rate, nerve potential, and adrenaline levels were rising wildly, breaking through one bright red threshold after another.

"Continue to observe and record the extreme reactions." Fiano's familiar yet irritating voice rang out, calm, even with a hint of scientific interest.

Qingze suddenly opened his eyes.

The high-strength composite material straps binding him were snapped off by the brute force unleashed from his bare body! Fragments flew everywhere.

The researcher closest to him was staring wide-eyed at the out-of-control peak on the data screen when a hand gripped his throat like an iron clamp.

Click.

His neck was broken. Before his body could even convulse, he collapsed limply to the side.

Qingze swayed slightly as he straightened up. He tilted his head, his neck making a soft "crackling" sound, and then the corners of his mouth were pulled back little by little, tearing upwards to reveal an extremely maniacal smile.

He turned his neck and looked at the face of another researcher next to him who was frozen in fear.

The researcher was still holding the record board in his hands, his lips trembling, but he couldn't make a sound.

Qingze looked at him, his smile widening.

"You're shaking, are you afraid of me? Isn't this the medication you've been injecting me with? Why are you afraid of me?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Qingze's fist lashed out with a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow, striking the stiff head with a clean, effortless motion. The head didn't fly off; instead, it remained in place, exploding like a watermelon struck by a heavy hammer!

Red, white, viscous, lumpy... everything mixed together, splashing out radially, splattering onto the cold stainless steel instruments, staining the white walls red, and also staining Qingze's pale cheeks and forehead.

"That's disgusting..."

"what--!!!"

Fear and piercing screams exploded instantly, devouring all reason.

The surviving researchers scrambled to escape, and security personnel rushed in, gun muzzles flashing and bullets whistling.

Qingze moved, his figure becoming blurred and distorted amidst the hail of bullets, moving with inhuman agility and bizarre angles.

The bullet grazed his body, drawing blood, but it had no effect on him.

"Hehe...can't catch him..." he laughed, his figure ghost-like as he clung to a security guard, a slash of his hand falling, the muffled sound of his Adam's apple breaking overlapping with his laughter.

He snatched a gun, gripped the barrel, and used it like a hammer, slamming it into the other man's head.