Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

As the car drove along this quiet mountain road, Kogoro Mouri couldn't help but wonder what would happen next.

How will that organization act?

Can that kid Qingze protect himself?

And then there's that brat Conan—although he has a lot of opinions about him, he's the child he watched grow up and raised in his own home for so long, so he's still worried about him after all.

But he didn't ask any questions; none of these things mattered as much as the safety of his wife and daughter.

The road grew narrower and narrower, and the snow on both sides grew thicker and thicker. Occasionally, a few abandoned wooden houses could be seen, their roofs weighed down with thick snow, and their windows dark and empty, as if no one had lived there for a long time.

After driving a little further, a wall appeared by the roadside, its gray stone bricks covered with withered vines.

The car stopped in front of an iron gate.

Ran Mouri opened the car door and got out.

A cold wind swept over me, carrying the crisp scent of the mountains and forests.

She looked at the three-story villa before her—gray walls, dark window frames, and a roof covered in thick snow. A wall surrounded the entire house, and apart from the snow and trees, there was nothing else to see.

“Aze said this is a private residence left by his parents. Very few people know about it. He had it cleaned a few days ago.”

Kogoro Mouri climbed out of the car and looked around the house.

"His parents..." he paused, "...did he remember things from the past?"

"Yes." Ran Mouri nodded. "I remember everything now."

Eri Kisaki stood beside her daughter, her gaze fixed on the yard. Through the cracks in the iron gate, she could see fresh footprints in the snow, as well as signs of human activity.

"It seems like someone is inside."

Kogoro Mouri immediately became alert.

Just as he was about to speak, footsteps came from the other side of the iron gate.

A man slowly walked out of the courtyard and looked at them through the iron gate. He was a young man in his early twenties with features similar to Qingze's. When he saw the three of them, his eyes lit up, and he quickly opened the iron gate.

"Is this Mr. Mori?" he exclaimed with delight. "My brother said you'd be coming, and I've been waiting. Please come in, it's cold outside!"

Kogoro Mouri paused for a moment, then relaxed.

"Mr. Matsui?"

“It’s me, and my mom and brother are here too.”

Chapter 604 Will he act as a witness for the prosecution?

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting parallel streaks of light on the desk.

Rei Furuya sat in a chair with a cup of coffee that had gone cold in front of him.

The office was quiet. Only the wall clock was ticking, the second hand moving one tick at a time, like a silent urging.

Kuroda Hyōe sat opposite him, his one eye fixed on the documents spread out on the table. Three personnel files, three names, three expressionless passport photos.

Zhuxingzhifu. Ryuichi Sakamoto. Ishikawa Ichiro.

They were all high-ranking officials in the Metropolitan Police Department, with extraordinary status and position.

“Just these three,” Kuroda said, his voice low and hoarse. “I’ve sifted through the Metropolitan Police Department. These three are the prime suspects.”

Rei Furuya shifted his gaze from the three files to Heiji Kuroda's face.

Heiji Kuroda, formerly the head of the Nagano Prefectural Police's First Investigation Division, is now the superintendent of the First Investigation Division of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department's Criminal Investigation Division, as well as his direct superior and the head of Team Zero.

He was in his fifties, with a fierce appearance and a cold, hard aura. When his single eye stared at someone, it was sharp and gloomy, carrying an extremely heavy sense of oppression, as if it could see right through their skin and peek into their deepest secrets.

Rei Furuya's expression didn't change much in the face of this aura.

He was just looking at those three documents, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Is there any evidence?"

“No.” Kuroda Hyōe’s answer was crisp and decisive, without any beating around the bush. “They are being cautious. We have no suitable reason to openly intervene in the investigation.”

Rei Furuya didn't speak. His brows furrowed even more.

This is a dead end.

If the mole isn't identified first, any police action will be exposed to their watchful eye. The moment a meeting is held to plan, the organization receives the news. When they swarm out, they'll find nothing but an empty nest.

However, deploying only a small number of personnel is insufficient and will not be very effective.

Neither advancing nor retreating is an option.

Kuroda looked at him, his hands clasped together, calm and unhurried. "But these are special times. Special times call for special measures."

Rei Furuya looked up. "What do you mean?"

Kuroda Hyōe leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table.

"Monitor everything. Twenty-four hours a day. Phone calls, emails, whereabouts, people contacted—leave no one unchecked." His voice was steady, as if stating a fait accompli. "I won't act without evidence; that's not my style. By the time the evidence comes out, it'll be too late."

He paused, and his one eye narrowed slightly.

"If you focus too much on formalism, you'll end up accomplishing nothing."

Rei Furuya did not respond immediately.

He knew, of course, that Kuroda Hyōe was right.

In situations like this, waiting for evidence is tantamount to waiting for death. The organization's tentacles are everywhere; once word of the operation leaks out, a single message from an insider is enough for the organization to evacuate beforehand.

Destroy the documents, relocate the hideout, and cut off all contact.

All the efforts of everyone, all the opportunities that everyone risked their lives for, will vanish in an instant.

But he also knew what that meant.

Three high-ranking officers from the Metropolitan Police Department were monitored, wiretapped, and followed without any concrete evidence.

This isn't conventional; it's crossing a red line, walking a tightrope. Once discovered, once bitten back—

"If they have any complaints, they can come to me." Kuroda Hyōe seemed to see through his concerns, his tone was calm, yet carried immense weight.

Someone will cover for you.

Someone is willing to take the blame.

Rei Furuya looked at him, at his superior, and nodded vigorously.

"I see."

Kuroda Hyōe nodded. He didn't continue the topic, but changed the subject.

"How's your investigation going regarding that organization's core drugs?"

Rei Furuya's eyebrows twitched slightly.

The movement was so subtle it was almost imperceptible. But he knew that for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

He lowered his eyes, his gaze falling on the calm surface of the coffee in the cup. He spoke in a flat tone:

"We didn't enter the core area during the previous evacuation, so the information we obtained was limited. We are still investigating."

Kuroda Hyōe stared at him.

That gaze was like a knife, filled with scrutiny and judgment.

"Still investigating?" Kuroda Hyōe repeated, his voice carrying a subtle but palpable pressure. "Zero, you've been dealing with that organization for so many years, there's no way you haven't found anything."

Rei Furuya did not respond.

His fingertips rested on the armrest of the chair, motionless.

Does he trust his boss?

Trustworthy.

He trusted Kuroda Hyōe's decisiveness, his courage, and his willingness to take responsibility for his subordinates.

He had witnessed Kuroda Hyōe's composure in times of crisis, his ruthlessness in dire straits, and his courage to offend his superiors in order to solve a case.

But at the same time, there's not much trust either.

Or rather—he dared not gamble.

Morofushi Kagemitsu died at the hands of an inside man. He would never forget that life.

If Kuroda Hyōe knew the truth about that drug, that it could make people young again and give them a second chance at life—would he still want to destroy it?

will not.

Absolutely not.

Even if he is righteous. Even if he hates evil. Even if he is an honest and good policeman.

He absolutely would not.

Because he is already over fifty years old.

He is old.

His hair is turning white, his skin is sagging, and his body is irreversibly decaying.

He cannot gamble with human greed.

What will happen if this gets out? They'll destroy the organization—maybe. But that'll only be the visible destruction.

They'll keep the drug, keep the research findings, and then claim them for themselves. Then they'll become the next organization, cloaked in righteousness, doing the same thing.

He can't afford to gamble.

"That organization has developed many drugs."

He spoke, his voice steady and unwavering. "The Vivoxil, Guligen, and Guaifenesin products currently on the market are all produced by that organization. As for the more core drugs, they are not circulated outside the market. I can only find the drug codes; I don't even know their specific effects and functions—"

"Does that organization have any drugs that can improve intelligence?" Kuroda Hyōe suddenly asked. His tone was casual, as if he were chatting.

Rei Furuya was slightly taken aback.

He looked up at Kuroda Heibei. His wrinkled face was expressionless, and his single eye revealed no emotion.

“…I’m not sure,” he said.

When do you plan to take action?

“With Rum dead, the organization is in turmoil, but the time isn’t right yet,” Furuya Rei said. “I’m waiting for news from my informant.”

Kuroda Hyōe looked at him, his single eye seeming to see into the deepest recesses of his heart, as if he could hear the unspoken words behind every sentence.

Who is your intelligence provider?

Rei Furuya's heart skipped a beat.

He met that gaze and shook his head.

"I can't say."

"Can't you say?" Kuroda Hyōe's tone lowered slightly. It wasn't anger, but rather the natural pressure of someone who had long held a position of power.

"Yes."

Rei Furuya answered without hesitation. His voice was steady, and his gaze did not waver.

“He only communicates with me directly. His identity, his location, his safety—I am responsible for all of that. At such a critical moment, his identity must be kept secret.”

He wouldn't expose Qingze until he destroyed that organization.

But afterwards—there was no longer such concern.

Kuroda Hyōe remained silent.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting long streaks of light across the floor.

"Will he serve as a witness for the prosecution and redeem himself through leniency?" Kuroda asked.

The office was eerily quiet.

Rei Furuya met his gaze, his words concise and resolute.

"will not."

Aozawa cannot serve as a tainted witness. His crimes cannot be atoned unless he saves all of Japan.