Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

"Oh?"

"Someone disguised themselves as me and went to someone else's house."

"That's really interesting." Kuroba Toichi's voice was devoid of emotion. "Did you catch them?"

No. He left after he finished eating.

"Then how did you know it was someone in disguise?"

“Because the real me went there again later.” Kudo Yusaku’s tone remained calm. “When that owner opened the door, he was stunned.”

Kuroba Toichi chuckled softly.

“There are only a handful of people who can disguise themselves,” he said. “Are there any suspects?”

Yusaku Kudo did not answer immediately.

The night outside the window was very quiet, so quiet that I could hear my own breathing.

"Yes," he said, "but I'm not sure."

"If you need any help, just ask."

"Okay," Yusaku Kudo replied, then changed the subject, "By the way, where have you been lately?"

"how?"

"Just asking." Yusaku Kudo's tone was relaxed. "Yukiko was just saying the other day that she hadn't seen you in a long time. Kaito has grown up too, come back and visit sometime."

There was silence for a few seconds on the other end of the phone.

"We'll see," Kuroba Toichi finally spoke, his voice a little calmer than before. "I've been a bit busy lately."

"What are you busy with?"

"Some private matters."

Chapter 578 I'm leaving too.

The two chatted for a few more minutes about trivial matters.

Just as Yusaku Kudo was about to hang up, Toichi Kuroba suddenly spoke:

"Oh, right, Yusaku."

"Ok?"

"Shinichi..." Kuroba Toichi's voice paused for a moment, "Are you alright?"

Yusaku Kudo's fingers tightened slightly.

The funeral has been over for some time now. That small urn, those black mourning banners, those somber expressions—it was all for show.

"It's alright," he said, his voice steady. "Time heals all wounds."

"That's good." Kuroba Toichi's tone carried a perfectly timed tone of comfort. "You're different from him. You still have Yukiko, and you still have your own life. Don't be too sad."

"I know."

“However…” Kuroba Toichi suddenly changed the subject, his tone slightly mischievous, “Have you ever thought about having another one? While you two aren’t too old yet.”

Kudo Yusaku paused for a moment, then laughed helplessly.

"Dao Yi, you bastard..."

"Just kidding." Kuroba Toichi laughed as well. "But seriously, some things should be let go. The dead cannot be brought back to life."

"Yes," Yusaku Kudo replied. "I know."

"That's settled then. Go to sleep early."

"it is good."

The phone hangs up.

Yusaku Kudo put down his phone, stared at the ceiling, and remained silent for a long time.

Kuroba Toichi's voice was still echoing in his mind—that lazy, impeccable tone, those perfectly timed pauses, that probing mention of Shinichi at the end.

He was clearly in Japan, but he pretended to be in another country.

It was him just now, but he won't admit it.

They even asked about Shinichi...

Is it just simple concern, or is there something else going on?

A night breeze blew through the window, causing the tree branches to sway and cast dappled shadows on the glass, reflecting his pensive figure.

……

The sky was overcast, with low-hanging clouds like a thick, old quilt, suffocating the entire city.

There was no wind, but the air was damp and cold that seeped into your bones, making you instinctively shrink your neck.

In the Edogawa family's living room, the heating was on full blast, and a thin layer of condensation had formed on the windows.

Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and another person sat on the sofa in silence.

The TV was on, playing some boring cartoon, but nobody was watching.

Mitsuhiko stared blankly at the untouched plate of snacks on the coffee table. It was unusual for Genta to be uninterested in snacks.

Ayumi hugged the cushion, her eyes red-rimmed, but she held back her tears.

"Ai..." she whispered, "Is she really gone?"

Conan stood by the window, his back to them.

A layer of fog covered the windowpane; he ran his finger across it, revealing the greyish-white sky outside.

"Hmm," he responded softly. "She has her own things to do."

“But it was so sudden…” Ayumi’s voice began to tremble, “She didn’t say anything to us, she just left suddenly…”

There were no signs of parting, not even a farewell; they simply left behind a few letters and then departed.

Mitsuhiko's eyes were downcast, and he looked very sad.

"Perhaps they didn't want to face the separation, so they only left a farewell letter instead of saying goodbye in person..."

Given Haibara's personality, this is highly likely.

Genta took a couple of bites of potato chips and found them tasteless.

Will Ai Haibara come back?

Conan turned around and looked at them.

All three eyes were on him, six eyes filled with expectation, unease, and a fear they were unwilling to express.

He was silent for two seconds.

"I do not know."

He didn't know if Haibara could come back, or if she would ever come back at all...

The situation was getting worse and worse; he was stuck in this quagmire, and the more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

Ayumi's tears finally fell, and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand, pretending that nothing had happened.

Conan looked at them, and something inside him tugged at his heartstrings.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he didn't.

After a long while, he spoke up: "Oh, right, I also have something to tell you."

The three people looked up at him.

Conan paused, then spoke with some difficulty:

"I'm going to America with my parents."

The air suddenly became quiet.

"Go...to America?" Mitsuhiko's voice was a little dry.

"Hmm." Conan nodded, trying to make his tone sound as normal as possible. "The formalities are almost done. I'll be leaving in a few days."

Ayumi stared at him blankly, tears streaming down her face.

Ai Haibara left, and now Conan is leaving too?

Genta also felt like crying. He put down the bag of potato chips and asked, "Then... can we still see each other?"

Conan looked at them and suddenly smiled.

“Of course I can,” he said. “I’m not going to another planet. I’ll be back during my vacation.”

That smile looked relaxed, but he knew how much effort he was putting in.

Yuan Tai suddenly stood up.

"Then you have to treat us before you leave!" His voice was loud, but his eyes were red. "The Junior Detective Club's activity funds are almost gone!"

Mitsuhiko chimed in, "That's right, you have to treat us!"

Ayumi nodded vigorously.

Conan looked at them, and the lump in his throat got stuck again.

“Okay,” he said. “Shall we go now? I was just thinking of going to the Mouri Detective Agency to say goodbye to Ran and the others.”

The four people walked on the streets of Beika Town, and none of them spoke.

The sky was still overcast, with no sun and no wind; the whole world seemed to have been muted.

Ayumi walked in the middle, looking down at her toes. Genta and Mitsuhiko stood on either side of her, like two silent guards.

Conan followed behind, a few steps away, watching their backs.

Winter is very cold.

He put his hands in his pockets, but still couldn't feel any warmth.

Ahead, a man in a sushi restaurant uniform turned into the alley, carrying a takeout box in his hand.

The next second, the man's head exploded, leaving a pool of blood, and his body slumped forward, falling into the alley.

Conan's pupils suddenly contracted.

Shoot him!

He looked up instantly, his gaze locking onto the opposite side of the street.

Three hundred meters away, on the roof of a six-story building, a figure was holding a sniper rifle.

"Danger! Hide!"

He instinctively shouted out, while staring intently at the rooftop.

Ayumi Mitsuhiko paused for a moment, then skillfully shrank behind a mailbox by the roadside.

Conan pressed the button on his glasses, and the image on the lens instantly zoomed in and magnified.

On the edge of the rooftop, a figure was quickly holstering a gun and making his escape. The movements were swift and agile; that back view… it felt so familiar.

He almost instinctively started running, trying to catch up. But as he passed the alleyway, his pace slowed, and then he stopped.

He stood there, staring at the now empty rooftop.

He stood there silently for a few seconds, etching that figure into his mind, then turned and ran into the alley.

On the ground, the man in the sushi shop uniform lay in a pool of blood. The bullet had pierced his eye, which was covered by a medical goggle; his other eye was open, its gaze blank.

Kenjiro Wakita.

Conan recognizes this person.

An ordinary sushi restaurant employee.

but why?

Why would someone assassinate a sushi restaurant employee?