Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Flaward.

He deliberately reminded Fryward of Koniak that day that Fryward had actually died the night before!

No wonder Koniak's reaction was so indifferent at the time; he didn't take it seriously at all, because the man was already dead.

He frowned and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

suicide?

Are you sure it wasn't a forced suicide?

After a moment of contemplation, he picked up his phone and dialed Koniak's number.

As current partners, it is certainly necessary to share some information regarding the reduction of personnel in the organization's forces.

He always felt that something he didn't know was happening, and that it was something very important.

Qingze crossed his legs, sinking into the large leather seat, the white plastic stem of a lollipop sticking out from the corner of his mouth.

The main light in the study was off; only a desk lamp on the corner of the table was lit, casting a dim, yellowish glow that barely illuminated his lap and the small section of the computer screen in front of him, while everything else remained in darkness.

On the screen, the ripples from the monitoring software had long since smoothed out into a quiet straight line.

He was wearing headphones and could only hear the sound of rain.

The dull, continuous sound of rain, coming through the walls and glass, was like a slow heartbeat.

It's been an hour.

No one touched the bugging device.

He lowered his eyes, the curve of his lips deepened slightly, and he moved the lollipop from the left to the right.

Not dismantling it is an answer in itself.

She tacitly acknowledged the existence of the bugging device, just as he had once tacitly acknowledged the existence of the bugging device on the second floor of the Mouri Detective Agency.

He was waiting then. Waiting for it to play its due role at a certain moment.

Now, Sulli is doing the same thing.

She left the listening device where it was, using his ear to send him a silent message:

—I know you're listening.

—I won't dismantle it.

—Let's talk.

Showing weakness is also a way of testing the waters.

Seek cooperation while also keeping a backup plan.

Qingze bit into the candy ball in his mouth, making a crisp crunch.

He'll probably be able to see what he wants to see soon.

Just then, the phone next to me rang.

Qingze glanced at the caller ID, raised an eyebrow, tapped the table lightly with his finger, and pondered the possibility of Sherry choosing to cooperate with Bourbon.

Compared to Bourbon, Shuichi Akai is clearly more protective of her and more familiar with her, making a collaboration more likely.

He picked up his phone, lowered his voice, and restored Koniak's dangerously mocking tone.

"You're calling me in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, are you trying to confess your feelings to me?"

Toru Amuro: "..."

Amuro Tooru was about to speak when all his words got stuck in his throat, and a vein on his forehead throbbed uncontrollably.

Did this person activate some kind of damn taunt skill?

Even though I knew he was doing it on purpose, I couldn't help but get angry.

"Koniak!" he gritted his teeth, almost growling.

Qingze moved his phone away a little. "I heard you. You don't need to be so lovey-dovey. I'm not gay, and I'm not interested in you."

The veins on Amuro Tooru's fist bulged.

You're so shameless!

He took a deep breath, suppressing the throbbing veins in his neck, and cut to the chase, "Freward, did you handle it?"

"What are you saying? She clearly committed suicide."

"Heh~" Amuro Tooru sneered, not believing a single word.

Who would commit suicide unless they were in dire straits?

However, he had no intention of judging or rebuking them; he was happy to see these people killing each other.

"The organization probably already knows about Fred's death."

72 hours have passed, and it's even on the news. Even the slowest person should know by now.

Qingze's lips curled into an ambiguous smile. "So what if you know? The organization doesn't have time to deal with these trivial matters right now."

Amuro Tooru narrowed his eyes. "Is this a small matter?"

If this is a small matter, then what is a big matter?

"Why don't you look into recent cases of family members going missing or dying unexpectedly while traveling?" Qingze's tone carried a faint smile, as if he were casting bait. "Perhaps you'll make some new discoveries."

Why is it Karasuma in Chapter 560?

Amuro Tooru's gaze suddenly froze.

Those sharp eyes pierced through the rain, as if trying to lock onto the nonchalant figure on the other end of the phone.

What has the organization been doing lately?

Qingze lightly uttered two words:

"Drug testing".

Boom—

A thunderclap exploded in the sky.

Amuro Tooru's pupils instantly contracted to pinpoints.

"...APTX4869."

"Hmm~"

That soft hum carried undisguised pleasure, as if admiring the speed of his reaction.

Thunder rumbled across the sky, and the rain intensified.

Amuro Tooru stood by the window, holding his phone. Rainwater streamed down the glass, distorting and blurring everything outside.

"I've given you the clues." Qingze's voice drifted over slowly, like teasing a hunting dog that had finally caught the scent of its prey. "Our police officers should investigate thoroughly. Maybe they can set a trap in advance and catch our model worker."

Amuro Tooru's fingers tightened, the edge of the phone sinking into his palm.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't want me to tell you everything, do you?" Qingze's tone was tinged with disappointment, as if he were looking at a student who couldn't answer a question. "That would make me think you lack intelligence and initiative."

He paused, the last trace of mockery in his voice vanishing, leaving only a thin, cold tone:

“Bourbon, I don’t work with idiots.”

After the call ended, Amuro Tooru stood still, his fingers still gripping the phone.

The rain was still falling, and the water streaks on the windowpane were layered upon layer, blurring the light from outside into a hazy mass.

He stared at the chaos, motionless.

Drug testing.

The word rolled over and over in his mind, producing a series of sharp, grating sounds.

What cruel and terrifying words.

Treating people like lab rats, experimenting on them, releasing them into the wild, observing them...

This is no longer an ordinary crime; it's paving the way with human lives!

It turns living, breathing ordinary people with names, families, and futures into cold, hard numbers and curves on an experimental report.

Amuro Tooru clenched his fists.

He turned around abruptly, strode toward his desk, pulled out a chair, and didn't even realize that his knee had hit the corner of the desk.

The computer screen lit up, the cold white light illuminating the tense profile of his face.

Fingers tapped on the keyboard, quickly accessing the list of deceased citizens.

This list is not difficult to access.

When a citizen passes away, the relevant departments will register the death.

Even recent death records, given the large number of people and the vast geographical area involved, generate a massive amount of data.

In his previous understanding, APTX4869 was a poison that caused people to die of cardiac arrest, leaving no trace of the poison after death, presenting a perfect and blameless natural death.

However, he had very high access privileges, and he had tried to request permission to access and use the service, but was not allowed.

At the time, he thought it was just another assassination tool developed by the organization.

Looking back now, the drug that Shinichi Kudo was given was this one!

This is not poison at all, but a drug that the organization painstakingly developed in an attempt to reverse the flow of time!

Amuro Tooru's fingertips hovered above the keyboard, and he suddenly felt a chill.

If the organization truly succeeds—

Even if it's only partially successful, even if it's just a very small number of cases, as long as they leak even the slightest hint to the outside world, and show even the slightest bit of evidence to those powerful people who covet immortality and are willing to pay any price for time...

Countless eyes will be on the organization.

Countless funds will flow into the organization.

Countless forces that should belong to the side of justice will turn to darkness for that vague "possibility".

By then, will the organization be wiped out?

Another flash of lightning appeared outside the window.

In the brief glimmer of light, he saw his face reflected in the glass—tense, pale, with a look of near-fear rising deep in his pupils.

That wasn't a fear of death.

It is the fear of "not having enough time".

Hurry!

Amuro Tooru's fingertips paused as three consecutive "Karasuma" characters swept across the screen.

He thought he was seeing things, or that the database had found some strange bug.

While the surname Karasuma is rare, it's not entirely unheard of. It's not impossible for a few people with the same surname to appear among thousands of death records in the Kanto region.

But the next name is still Karasuma.

A few names later, Karasuma reappeared.

All the time is concentrated within this one week.

The section for cause of death was filled with "natural death".

Amuro Tooru's pupils slowly contracted.

It's too obvious.

It was too abrupt.

It was as if the answer was shoved right in his face, written in bold black letters: Look here, the clue is right here.

He quickly retrieved the address information and marked the locations of the deaths of those with the surname Karasuma one by one. Yokohama, Kanagawa, Saitama... Drag the mouse, connect the lines, and a circular route map radiating outward from Tokyo gradually took shape on the screen.

It's not random. It's planned.