Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

The curve was deep, yet devoid of any warmth. His gaze lingered on Kaito Kuroba's face, as if he were looking at an interesting toy, or perhaps assessing a possibility he had never considered before.

“I’m quite curious,” he said slowly, “what kind of expression will your dad have when I stand in front of you, now shrunken.”

He paused, as if seriously imagining the scene.

“Anger? Shock? Excitement? Perhaps all of those.” The firelight flickered in his pupils. “But I suspect there’s definitely no sadness in it.”

Ran Mouri looked at his deliberately frightening expression, picked up her teacup, took a sip, and concealed the upward curve of her lips.

Kaito Kuroba looked at Aozawa, his hand involuntarily reaching for the playing card gun hidden on his person.

The touch of his fingers on the cold metal did not give him any sense of security.

"What do you mean?"

His voice was strained, as if something was choking him.

Qingze did not answer the question.

He lowered his eyes, his thumb tracing the fine lines on the lighter. Then, with a "click," he closed the cap.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet living room.

He looked up at Kaito Kuroba.

"Would you like to guess what your father's code name is in this wine cellar?"

With a loud bang—

Kaito Kuroba felt as if thunder was exploding in his ears.

It's not a metaphor.

There really was that sound, exploding from deep within his ears, all the way to his brain, making his vision go white, making him unable to hear anything.

Code name?

wine cellar?

Father?

These three words spun in his mind, making him dizzy and nauseous.

How is this possible...?

Something invisible seemed to be collapsing.

It didn't fall piece by piece; it sank all at once—sinking into darkness, so deep that he couldn't hold onto anything.

Ran Mouri looked at him.

That face was blank now. Empty, like a house that had been emptied out.

The girl he liked had a father who was a policeman and hated phantom thieves, but he became the phantom thief Kid in order to investigate his father's death... These words still echoed in his ears.

But at this moment, all of this became a sharp sword piercing him, completely negating all his beliefs.

Ran Mouri opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found that she didn't know what to say.

comfort?

How do you comfort someone in this situation?

Just like when she first confirmed that Conan was Shinichi, that feeling was something she could only process herself.

The pity in Qingze's eyes faded.

Like the receding tide, little by little, until only bare rocks remain.

Instead, there is indifference.

It's like standing on the shore watching someone struggling in the water, neither reaching out nor leaving, just watching.

He continued speaking, his voice flat, as if he were reading a report.

“Vermouth—the Thousand-Faced Witch of our organization, who learned the art of disguise from your father along with Yukiko Kudo, is your father’s student.”

Kaito Kuroba's eyelashes trembled.

“Eight years ago, your father ‘died.’ As a student, she certainly couldn’t just sit idly by.” Qingze paused. “Then, she discovered that your father was not dead. And your father also noticed her strange behavior.”

The living room lights were very bright, illuminating every corner clearly. But Kaito Kuroba suddenly felt that the light was too dazzling, making him want to close his eyes.

“Vermouth is a very special person.” Qingze’s voice continued, unhurriedly, “She is over fifty years old, but in appearance, she is still in her most youthful and beautiful state.”

He paused for a moment.

"This is very unusual, isn't it?"

Kaito Kuroba did not answer.

He stood there, like a statue. Everything was a blur of white before his eyes, and he couldn't see anything clearly, but Qingze's words kept drilling into his ears—every word was crystal clear, like nails being hammered in one by one.

"She has maintained her youth, which has aroused your father's curiosity and attention."

Qingze's tone remained calm.

"Your father, as the first Phantom Thief Kid, was truly incredibly skilled. Coupled with his special identity, he became that old man's proxy without anyone knowing..."

Some of it I learned from Vermouth.

But more often than not, it was his own speculation and investigation.

The first-generation Phantom Thief Kid – his abilities need no introduction, his intelligence is top-notch, coupled with his agile skills as a phantom thief and his unparalleled disguise skills.

He became brandy without a sound.

Even Rum and Gin were completely unaware of it.

Only Vermouth, this woman who has always been a mystery, knows.

That evening at the hot spring resort, after learning that the organization was preparing to conduct clinical trials, Vermouth finally revealed a few words about brandy.

Qingze pieced the fragments together.

Now, he has completely exposed it.

A breeze picked up outside the window. The shadows of the trees in the yard swayed, brushing against the glass with each rustling sound.

Qingze spoke, his voice not loud, but every word he uttered was firm and resolute.

"He is [Brandy]. And now, he is the one who truly controls the organization."

Chapter 576 Shouldn't I hate?

As to whether Kuroba Touichi actually controlled the organization, Qingze didn't need to guess at all.

If he were Kuroba Toichi, wouldn't he have taken control of the organization?

That old codger Karasuma Renya is over 140 years old. I don't know how he managed to live this long, but I bet he's having trouble even breathing.

Acting on behalf of the BOSS's will is, in a sense, being the BOSS.

As for why he didn't just kill that old codger and take over himself?

Why kill him?

The existence of the BOSS neither harms his interests nor prevents him from having a visible target. How wonderful!

The person behind the scenes is meant to remain hidden, unknown to everyone, for that is the safest approach.

The living room was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

Kaito Kuroba stood there, motionless.

The bright lights shone on him, revealing his pale face.

His lips were slightly parted, but no sound came out. The light in his eyes dimmed little by little, as if something was going out.

The shadows of the trees outside the window were still swaying.

One, one, one.

It's like a silent question.

Ran Mouri is also processing this information.

She sat on the sofa, still holding the now-cold cup of tea in her hands, her fingertips slightly clenched.

The water in the cup swayed gently, reflecting the overhead light, breaking into small, shimmering fragments.

If the person behind it all is Kuroba Toichi...

So what about Shinichi being poisoned, shrunk, and hiding under an assumed name for so long...?

What terrifying dark organization, what secrets and conspiracies brewing for years, are they really just infighting among themselves?

A family feud dragged in a bunch of outsiders, pulling countless people into the vortex. Some died, some escaped, and some lived in the shadows for the rest of their lives...

She lowered her eyes and looked at the shattered light in the cup.

Really...

Satire.

The living room was quiet.

The wind outside the window seemed to have stopped, the shadows of the trees were no longer swaying, and everything was still.

Only the clock on the wall continues to tick tirelessly, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

It's like some kind of countdown.

It was like a silent mockery.

for a long time.

So long that the clock ticked away.

Kaito Kuroba has finally regained his voice.

You told me all this—

He spoke, his voice terribly hoarse. It wasn't his usual voice; it sounded more like someone who had been drowning for a long time, finally surfacing but only able to utter broken, breathy sounds.

"What do you want to do?"

He looked up at Qingze.

Looking at that indifferent face.

The light illuminated Qingze's face clearly—there was no pity, no sympathy, not even the scrutinizing look from before. Only a calm face, like a bottomless pool of water.

Kaito Kuroba stared at him.

His eyes were red, but not a single tear came out.

His shoulders were taut, his hands hanging at his sides were slightly clenched into fists, and his whole body was like a fully drawn bow that might break at any moment, or like a string that had been compressed to its limit and would shatter at the slightest touch.

There was still a glimmer of light in those eyes—a resentment, a desire to grasp at something. A yearning to know—

Why are you telling me all this?

what do you want from me?

Qingze met his gaze.

There was no avoidance, no evasion, not even a ripple of emotion. He simply stared straight at Kaito Kuroba, like a mirror reflecting all his emotions back to him untouched.

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm just letting you know. Then, let's see what you do—or do nothing at all."

The light fell on his face, illuminating his calm expression clearly. His eyes held nothing, yet seemed to hold everything.

"Then, I need to figure out what my next step should be."

Kaito Kuroba stared intently at him.

The light in his eyes flickered violently, like a candle flame in the wind. His chest heaved, and his breathing became rapid and heavy.

"You hate him. You want to kill him!"

If they didn't hate, they wouldn't have said something like poisoning.

If you didn't hate them, you wouldn't have mentioned the words "your father" in that tone.

Qingze looked at him.