Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Why was he sniped in Chapter 579?

Aozawa strolled leisurely toward the Mouri Detective Agency, a lollipop dangling from his mouth.

The temperature was exceptionally low today, and the weather was bitterly cold; the white breath we exhaled quickly dissipated in the wind.

He put his hands in his coat pockets, walking at a leisurely pace, switching the lollipop from left to right.

Turning the corner, I saw a few people gathered at the alley entrance, along with several familiar small figures.

"Brother Qingze!"

Ayumi was the first to see him, her voice hoarse from crying.

Qingze paused for a moment, then walked over.

Several children huddled next to the mailbox, their expressions still shaken.

Conan squatted in the alley, his back to him.

What are you doing here?

“We…” Mitsuhiko swallowed hard, his voice trembling, “We were on our way to the Mouri Detective Agency, and then, then suddenly someone died…”

Qingze glanced into the alley.

Kenzuru Wakita lay dead in a pool of blood, a dark red stain beneath him.

Conan was crouching nearby, examining something.

"How did you die?"

"It should have been a shooting, but we didn't hear any gunshots; the person just suddenly collapsed..."

Qingze frowned: "Did you call the police?"

"I've already reported it." Conan turned around, his gaze falling on him, his eyes scrutinizing him. "When Qingze-nii came over, did you see any strange people?"

Qingze shook his head.

He took a step forward, looked around the alley, then stepped back and stood in front of the children, blocking their view.

Are you alright?

"It's nothing." Several children shook their heads, their voices varying in tone.

"That's good."

Qingze glanced into the alley again. His brows furrowed, a hint of discomfort showing on his face, his lips pressed tightly together, and his gaze lingered on the corpse for a second before shifting away.

“This person…” he paused, “is he an employee at the Iroha Sushi restaurant?”

"Hmm." Conan nodded, stood up, and walked back.

Qingze looked at the body, then glanced around at the surroundings, his tone filled with doubt: "A shooting... Judging from the situation, it was a premeditated sniping from a distance. Why would a sushi restaurant employee be sniped?"

Subaru Okiya walked over from the other end of the alley, adjusting his glasses. He had been following Conan from the shadows.

“He might not be an ordinary shop assistant.” He looked at Qingze and nodded. “Mr. Qingze.”

Aozawa nodded in response, without saying much. He glanced down at the children, then looked at Subaru Okiya.

"Since Mr. Okiya is here, I'll leave these children in your care," he said. "I have other matters to attend to, so I'll be going now."

Subaru Okiya looked at him and nodded.

There is no doubt about Qingze in this case.

He was just passing by.

And, as always, he didn't have much curiosity or interest in the case or the murder.

He looked down at the exaggerated front teeth on the deceased's face, and pried them open through the handkerchief—sure enough, they were fake teeth used for disguise.

This sushi restaurant employee is no ordinary person; his identity is unusual.

He looked up at the spot where the sniper had been standing.

Two hundred meters or so is not far. Judging from the figure of the sniper when she was spotted retreating, she should be a woman.

I just don't know if it has anything to do with the organization...

Aozawa turned and walked towards the direction of the Mori office.

A smile played on his lips as he bit into the lollipop in his mouth, making a crisp crunching sound.

After walking a short distance, he took out his phone, quickly swiped his fingers, and sent a message.

Fake Rum is dead.

Click to send. Put your phone away.

He had planned to arrange Rum's death, but after receiving a mission from the organization, the matter was temporarily put on hold.

Now that he had some free time, he brought the stand-in back to the sushi restaurant, where he became Kenjiro Wakita.

Rumi Wakasa—the elementary school teacher who had a grudge against Rum—had been keeping an eye on the sushi restaurant and found out on the very first day Rum returned.

Today, on the third day, the fake rum has died.

Without a doubt, she did it.

They were fast, decisive, and highly efficient.

Those who knew that Wakita Kanenori was a fake were the dead Fryward and Champagne, who was drugged by Shiratama on the first night Wakita Kanenori appeared and died in his apartment.

Thus, everyone who knew the rum was fake was dead.

Soon, the organization will learn of Rum's death from the news.

Then, the organization will fall into chaos.

A pleased smile curved Qingze's lips as he pushed open the door of the Poirot Cafe.

The store was well-heated, and the windows were covered with a thin layer of condensation.

There were no customers, only Amuro Tooru standing behind the bar, wearing an apron, arranging freshly baked cookies on a plate.

He had dark circles under his eyes, his eye sockets were sunken, and he exuded an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. His hand movements were mechanical, as if he was maintaining them by inertia.

He looked up when he heard the doorbell ring.

Upon seeing that it was Qingze, he smirked and lowered his eyelids, not bothering to hide his disgust.

Qingze smirked and sat down on the bar stool in front of the bar. He rested his elbows on the counter and tilted his head to look at him.

"Oh dear, Mr. Amuro is here for work today. Those dark circles under his eyes, have you not slept for days?"

Amuro Tooru didn't say anything.

He put down the baking tray, wiped his hands, and then looked up at me. His eyes were bloodshot, but his gaze was deep.

There was a few seconds of silence.

"Has the organization suspended its drug trials?" he asked bluntly.

Qingze shrugged, his movements quite casual.

"You're asking me? Who should I ask?"

Amuro Tooru stared at him, motionless.

Why Karasuma?

Qingze tilted his head to look at him, the lollipop stick curling up at the corner of his mouth.

"Because the boss's name is Karasuma Renya. Didn't you know?"

Amuro Tooru frowned.

“Karasuma Renya is at least 140 years old.”

"so what?"

"Humans can't live that long."

Qingze looked at him.

The curve of her lips deepened gradually.

He took the lollipop out of his mouth, held it in his hand, and twirled it around.

"Then what do you think," he paused, looked up at Amuro Tooru, and said in a calm voice, "that the body shrinks, is that scientifically sound?"

Amuro Tooru's gaze darkened.

Why would he use his own descendants to test drugs?

He stared at Qingze, his brows furrowed, his tone clearly showing confusion.

Most people, aren't they all looking out for their own descendants? Who would turn against their own bloodline?

Qingze took the lollipop out of his mouth and twirled it in his hand. The sugar stains shimmered under the light.

His tone was nonchalant:

"Gin believes that data from close relatives is the cleanest. Without any messy genetic interference, the experimental results are purer."

Therefore, Gin did not find anything unusual about using Karasuma's bloodline for drug testing.

Isn't Vermouth a perfect example?

Amuro Tooru's brows furrowed even deeper.

I asked him, so why did he use "Gin thinks"?

"how about you?"

Qingze looked up at him, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Me? How would I know?" He put the lollipop back in his mouth and mumbled, "I don't care about that medicine."

Amuro Tooru stared at him, not missing a single detail in his words.

“So,” his voice deepened, “Gin cares about that drug, doesn’t he?”

Qingze took the lollipop out of his mouth, held it in his hand, and the smile on his lips deepened slightly.

"Of course. He's a very controlling and ambitious person."

Chapter 580 It wasn't me who killed them.

"Oh, by the way," Qingze suddenly spoke, his tone as casual as if he were remarking on the nice weather, "I just passed by an alley and found someone dead."

Amuro Tooru looked up at him, his hands still wiping the cup.

"so what."

His tone was flat, revealing no emotion. But his eyes remained fixed on Qingze's face, awaiting his next words.

Although Koniak talks a lot of trash, his specific mention of someone's death is definitely not as simple as it seems on the surface.

Qingze paused, took the lollipop out of his mouth, and twirled it in his hand.

"The deceased was a sushi restaurant employee named Kenjiro Wakita. A sniper bullet pierced his left eye, killing him instantly."

Amuro Tooru paused for a moment while wiping the cup.

Wakita Kanenori? Of course he remembered this person.

The one-eyed sushi chef with the strange accent had been to the coffee shop many times, and would occasionally wave at him through the window.

Wait a minute—a pierced left eye?

Amuro Tooru stopped moving.

A thought exploded in his mind, too fast for him to suppress.

No way? No way!

He looked up and stared at Qingze. His gaze was so sharp it seemed to pierce through him, trying to discern something from that face that wore a cynical smile.

Qingze met his gaze, and the smile on his lips deepened.

"Oh? You seem to have some suspicions."

Amuro Tooru didn't say anything.