Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

"Things have developed to this point, and even if you knew, you couldn't change the overall course of events." His voice was light, yet every word was weighty. "Unless you can just kill me—"

His smile deepened.

That smile revealed an undisguised arrogance.

"But if you could kill me, you wouldn't have chosen Ran Mouri."

Gin's pupils contracted slightly.

silence.

A long silence followed.

The wind outside the window stopped, and even the heating in the room seemed to have stopped vibrating. Only the breathing of the two people and the two glasses of wine on the coffee table stood quietly under the lamplight.

"You're willing to do anything?" Gin asked.

The voice was flat, without any inflection. But those eyes remained fixed on Qingze.

Qingze met his gaze.

"At all costs."

His answer was without hesitation or pause, as light as if he were saying that the weather was nice today.

Gin looked at him.

Looked for a long time.

Then he lowered his eyes, picked up his glass, and drank the rest of the wine in one gulp.

The liquor went down my throat, and that chaotic burning sensation exploded again.

He put down the cup, the glass hitting the coffee table with a crisp sound.

"Then I have no other choice."

The bedroom fell silent again.

The tense atmosphere seemed to have vanished; breathing was no longer difficult, and the air was no longer stagnant. The occasional distant sound of cars outside the window, muffled and resonant, reminded me that the world was still functioning as usual.

Gin stood up.

His movements remained unchanged, revealing no fluctuation of emotion. It was as if the confrontation had never happened, as if the undercurrent in that glass of wine had never surged.

"The BOSS commands," his voice was deep and steady, "You will come with me to eliminate any potential threats to the organization. Let's go."

Qingze raised an eyebrow.

"You really are using this as an excuse to make a fuss."

Gin looked at him and did not deny it.

"so what?"

Qingze shrugged.

"Please, brother." He gestured with his chin toward the door. "I want to change my skin."

Gin didn't say anything. He turned around, pushed open the door, and walked out.

The door closed behind me.

He stood at the door for two seconds, then walked down the steps and into the shadows by the roadside.

The streetlights are far away. Their light doesn't reach here.

He took out a cigarette case from his pocket, pulled one out, and put it in his mouth. He struck a match, and with a soft "hiss," the light briefly illuminated his face—the face that wasn't his, the face of Amuro Tooru.

Blonde hair, dark skin—it didn't match the person standing in the darkness at this moment at all.

He took a deep breath. The smoke dispersed in the cold air, shapeless and directionless, and was instantly torn apart by the night wind.

He leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the night sky ahead.

He just stood there, quietly smoking.

One. Two. Three.

The cigarette butt flickered in the darkness, like some faint signal. Occasionally, a car would drive by in the distance, its headlights flashing by before disappearing at the end of the street.

After an unknown amount of time, footsteps sounded.

Gin turned his head to look.

The person who said he was changing clothes was wearing a long silver wig, a black trench coat, and a top hat.

Gin: "..."

The cigarette in his hand broke in two on the spot.

“Koniac!” Gin’s voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth, with a gritted edge.

"You use Bourbon's skin, and I'll use yours. Isn't that great?"

Aozawa looked up, revealing Gin's signature chilling smile hidden in the shadow of his hat.

Gin: "..."

Chapter 589 The ship with the hole is leaking.

As the car drove along the road, Gin, who was driving, maintained a low-pressure atmosphere.

Qingze sat in the passenger seat, slowly peeling the wrapper off a lollipop.

"Why are you so angry? I wasn't angry when you impersonated me last time."

"Ah……"

Gin glanced at him sideways, from which he could see the full face under the shadow of the hat brim.

It wasn't his; it belonged to Koniak himself.

Qingze put the lollipop in his mouth, "I just changed my skin, I didn't disguise myself as you..."

Gin's fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the man next to him who was sporting his signature look, eating a lollipop, and looking completely innocent.

Where does Bourbon live?

“Third district, Moonstar Apartment 703.” Aozawa paused, his tone light, “But I guess they’ve already run away.”

"You reminded me?"

How long has Rum been dead? Not even 24 hours. How could Bourbon possibly recognize Rum? How could he have escaped?

There's only one possibility—someone deliberately informed them.

"What are you saying? Do you think I'm that kind of person?"

Gin was too lazy to pay him any more attention.

The car stopped in front of an apartment building in Sancho-me.

The two went upstairs, unlocked the door, and entered room 703.

The room was completely silent.

The curtains were drawn, there was fruit and a half-full glass of water on the coffee table, the TV remote was casually placed on the sofa, and the trash can was still full. Everything seemed normal.

But no one was in the bedroom.

Qingze's gaze slowly swept across the room. Then he walked to the corner and stopped in front of a potted plant. He reached out and parted the leaves, prying out a tiny pinhole camera from between the leaves.

He turned around and twirled the camera between his fingers.

"They were prepared and have already run away."

Gin glanced at him expressionlessly, then began taking notes and writing a report.

Amuro Tooru... no, now he's called Furuya Zero.

Rei Furuya was taking a nap on his separate desk, with a coffee that had long since gone cold next to him.

After confirming Rum's death, he decisively abandoned his undercover work and returned to his identity as Zero, a member of the Zero Special Operations Agency.

The only thing Amuro Tooru brought back when he returned was his dog.

Suddenly, a notification on his phone woke him up.

He quickly came to his senses and took out his phone to check.

The camera is malfunctioning and the signal has been cut off.

He quickly identified the content transmitted back before the cut.

In the black and white image, his door is open.

He walked in "himself," and then came in a very conspicuous and familiar figure.

Long hair, trench coat, top hat.

He stood there, half of his body hidden in the shadows of the entryway.

The hem of his black trench coat hung loosely, and his long silver hair gleamed coldly in the night vision lens. His top hat was pulled low, obscuring his entire face.

In the scene, the "self" looks around the house before heading towards the bedroom.

The figure in the trench coat disappeared from the frame, and then a gloved hand reached out, at which point the frame cut off.

"As expected..." Furuya Rei crossed his fingers and stared intently at the video.

The organization acted against him faster than he had imagined.

Who was that person disguised as him?

Vermouth?

……

The car drove through the night and stopped in an alley behind an old apartment building.

Gin turned off the engine but didn't get out of the car.

"Third floor, 304." His voice was flat. "There was unusual activity about two weeks ago."

"What's going on?"

"Large sums of money were transferred from overseas, suggesting that the funds may have been used to bribe officials."

Qingze raised an eyebrow.

"You noticed something was wrong two weeks ago, but you haven't done anything about it?"

“I originally planned to keep him around for fishing.” Gin paused. “Now we don’t need to.”

Qingze chuckled, got out of the car, and closed the door.

The motion-sensor lights in the hallway came on, casting a stark white light on the peeling paint. He climbed the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The door to room 304 was closed, and no light shone through the crack.

He knocked on the door.

No one answered.

He knocked again.

There was a rustling sound coming from inside, followed by a flurry of footsteps.

It was indeed unusual; people with guilty consciences react to the slightest disturbance.

Qingze calmly took out a wire to unlock the door.

The door opened, and a gust of wind rushed in through the window—the window was open, and the curtains fluttered in the wind.

He walked to the window and looked down.

A man in pajamas was running wildly through the alley, already more than twenty meters away.

Qingze took out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

"Ran."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Then a gunshot rang out.