Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

"Don't look at me like that. I've only done a few commissions. We haven't had much contact, but the prices are quite high."

"However, I reckon that Kaito Kid might know a little about it."

His voice rose slightly at the end, carrying a meaningful tone, "An organization named after gemstones, and a thief who specializes in stealing gemstones—I really don't believe there's no connection between them."

Vermouth frowned slightly.

Qingze's gaze fell on her, and he casually said, "Just report it like this. Without any clues, finding a missing person is like looking for a needle in a haystack."

Vermouth glanced at him and nodded.

The car slowly drove away from that street.

Melted snow splashed under the wheels, and the street scene receded further and further away from the car window.

Qingze leaned back in the back seat, his hood pulled down, revealing his short white hair.

He idly twirled a coin between his fingers and asked casually.

"How many have returned so far?"

Gin's gaze shifted from the road ahead and met his.

"The four from Europe are arriving soon. The two from Southeast Asia will land tomorrow morning. The five from North America will arrive the day after tomorrow morning."

Qingze caught the coin he tossed with his finger, but was a little disappointed.

"Is that all the people there?"

"How many do you think there will be?" Gin was speechless.

Code name members aren't as common as cabbages; those in charge, those core members who control funds, connections, and resources, are even more of a minority among code name members.

"What about the one in South America?" Qingze remembered that there was one in South America as well.

"died."

Qingze didn't ask how he died.

unimportant.

In places like that, it's perfectly normal for someone to die.

"It seems the organization is about to get lively."

A gleeful smile, as if he loved watching a good show, spread across Qingze's face, and the coin between his fingers gleamed.

……

The plane passed through the clouds and descended slowly.

Porter leaned against the porthole, watching the Tokyo night view getting closer and closer.

The city lights flickered in the night, dense and cold, like countless prying eyes.

He looked away, picked up the whiskey in front of him, took a sip, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

His mind was racing.

Rum is dead, along with everything they held in their hands—

Money. Connections. Resources. Equipment. Intelligence.

All of it became ownerless property.

The cards will be reshuffled.

The plane's wheels touched the ground, and the fuselage shuddered slightly.

Porter opened his eyes and looked out the window. The runway lights at Narita Airport flickered in the night, like a path leading to the unknown.

An elegant yet ambitious smile appeared on his lips.

As the car entered downtown Tokyo, Porter leaned against the window, watching the street scenes rushing past.

"How is the organization doing now?"

The man driving glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"chaos."

Porter raised an eyebrow.

"How exactly is this chaos happening?"

"Gin and Koniak have been stabilizing the situation and have purged a lot of people, leaving everyone feeling insecure. There are many rumors circulating within the organization that something bad has happened, and many people are uneasy..."

Porter did not speak.

Gin. Koniac.

The two names spun around in his mind several times.

He knew Gin; they were old acquaintances.

Dangerous and shrewd, ruthless killers, but absolutely loyal to the organization and of high rank.

Rum is dead; he was indeed the one most eager to stabilize the situation.

—He is also his biggest rival besides Graba.

Koniak...

This codename was notorious within the organization before, but after several years of silence, he recently carried out another massacre at the base. He is a mentally unstable psychopath.

He has no ambition, so as long as you don't provoke him, you don't need to worry about him too much.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Porter stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Tokyo night view.

The city lights spread out beneath my feet, boundless, like a luminous sea.

His gaze fell on his reflection in the glass.

He's fifty-three this year. He's been in the organization for twenty-seven years. Starting from the bottom as a lowly errand boy, he climbed step by step to the position of head of Europe. He's seen too many storms and too many people fall.

Rum is dead. The old guy who's been putting pressure on him for decades is finally dead.

He had waited far too long for this opportunity.

Chapter 600 They are the new generation of gods

The stark white light poured down from above, illuminating every corner of the laboratory.

Ai Haibara sat in the chair, wearily rubbing her temples.

The ill-fitting white lab coat draped over her now petite frame looked like a large robe.

Her sleeves were rolled up several times before revealing her pale, slender fingers. Dark circles clung to her eyes, and her once youthful face betrayed an undeniable weariness.

Since returning to the research institute, she hasn't left that door. She gets very little sleep each day, often just a short nap leaning against the lab bench before the night is over.

She drank cup after cup of coffee until her stomach churned, until even her breath carried a bitter, burnt aroma. She felt as if the fluid flowing in her veins was no longer blood, but diluted coffee.

Beside her, a person ostensibly an assistant but actually a monitor handed her an energy bar.

"Eat something, you haven't eaten for almost eight hours."

Ai Haibara took the energy bar, tore open the packaging, and took small bites.

It was chocolate flavored, sickeningly sweet. She chewed mechanically, unable to taste anything.

Eyes fixed on the fluctuating data on the screen, fingers still unconsciously tapping on the keyboard—the achievements of the past few days are hidden within those densely packed numbers.

Antidote.

She appears to be researching drug A, but in reality, all her energy is focused on developing an antidote.

With the information left by their parents and previous data, the research on the antidote faced almost no bottlenecks.

The formula is complete and theoretically feasible; only final verification is needed.

But now there is a critical problem—how do we get the antidote out?

The research institute is full of people from the organization.

She was watched 24 hours a day, and even her bathroom breaks were subject to time restrictions.

Koniak rarely set foot here, and even when she did, it was just a quick visit. She couldn't find any opportunities, nor could she find anyone she could trust.

Just then, Fiano walked over.

A deep, unyielding gloom hung between his brows, and his entire being exuded a restless, irritated aura. Each thud of his leather shoes on the floor felt like a hammer blow to his heart.

Ai Haibara's gaze involuntarily followed.

She and Fiano are old acquaintances.

Although this person is cold-blooded, he is always calm and composed. Even when he encounters a bottleneck in his research, he rarely shows this kind of expression.

What happened?

"How many test subjects are left?" Fiano adjusted his glasses and asked his assistant.

"There are five more."

"That's all?" Fiano's brow furrowed even more. He tapped the table impatiently, turning his gaze to Ai Haibara. "Sherry, is the APTX4874 finished yet?"

Ai Haibara was silent for a moment.

数日时间，APTX已经迭代了五代。4870、4871、4872、4873、4874……每一代的死亡率没有太大变化，但服药后实验者的存活时间在延长。

The organization doesn't want immortality; it wants to find the "key" to immortality after shrinking.

"We've only made one so far," she said, her voice steady.

Fiano nodded and immediately gave the order: "Have someone send one into the lab to prepare for drug testing."

Ai Haibara's fingers clenched tightly.

The packaging of the energy bar crumpled in her palm, making a soft rustling sound.

This is not the first time.

From the day she returned to the research institute, these drug trials have never stopped.

One by one, people were brought in, swallowed the drugs she had helped develop, and then died in excruciating pain.

She stood before the observation window, recording every step of their transformation into corpses. The numbers, the curves, the contorted faces before death—they were etched into her mind, indelible.

And she was the one who indirectly caused all of this.

It was the sin left by her parents. It was the bitter fruit of her involvement in continuing the story. It was her own hands that concocted the deadly formula.

“Time is of the essence.” Fiano looked at her, his gaze as cold as ice. “The BOSS’s patience is limited. Sherry, if 4874 can’t produce decent results—”

"Tomorrow, you will see one of your friend's hands."

Ai Haibara's heart sank.

The energy bar was completely crushed in her palm, and chocolate-colored crumbs leaked out from between her fingers and landed on her white lab coat.

She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, they had returned to their calm state.

She spoke, her voice calm and powerful, carrying the composure and certainty characteristic of a top researcher:

“The effects of 4874 are a significant improvement over the previous generation 4873.” She paused. “Theoretically, it can stably restore cells to a youthful state, and—it tends to stabilize.”

Fiano stared at her for a few seconds.

Those eyes were as sharp as a scalpel, peeling back the layers of appearance, trying to see what was hidden beneath.

Ai Haibara met his gaze without flinching or feigning. Her hatred and anger were plainly displayed on her face—one of the few things she could still retain.

Fiano withdrew his gaze, a disdainful smile curving his lips.

What good is anger?

Anger without power is nothing but impotent rage.

Hatred?

Oh.

He turned and walked towards the observation room. His leather shoes clicked on the floor with an air of superior confidence.

What they are studying is one of the greatest endeavors of humankind.