The bomb squad had already received orders: cut the wire at the very last second, grab two seconds' worth of intel, and leave the rest for the great detective, Mouri Kogorou, to solve.
"Attention—last second!"
"Roger!"
Everyone crouched around the bomb held their breath. Saying they weren't scared would've been a lie. But their job was to protect the public right on the edge of danger. So even if they were afraid, leaving was not an option.
The red countdown ticked in sync with their racing heartbeats. Life or death—everything came down to these final moments.
In the last three seconds, the clue appeared, displayed on the phone screen acting as a remote detonator. Luckily the signal was local, inside Tokyo. If it had been a rural area, the delay might've meant dying in vain.
Two seconds flashed by. The wire was cut. The explosion stopped.
Success? The bomb squad slumped, limbs weak. Those final seconds had been so suffocating that they'd almost forgotten to breathe, as if they were already dead. Terrifying.
"Bomb disarmed!" The squad relayed the message along with the intel.
Megure clenched his fist. "What about the last two seconds' clue?" He needed it for Mouri to finish the deduction.
"Yes sir. The final message was… 'educat…'"
An English word. That was already a big lead. It could be the verb educate (to teach), the noun education, or the adjective educational. All pointed toward "education."
Conan instantly thought of schools. And right now, the only ones in session were high schools—elementary and middle schools were still on winter break.
But there were so many high schools across Tokyo. Evacuating all of them would be near impossible.
"We can't evacuate them," Conan suddenly said. He reasoned that the bomber wouldn't let the police save students so easily. "Mouri-ojisan said the bomber might be secretly watching the schools."
A twisted criminal like this? Very possible. "Then what should we do?"
"We can quietly send people to check the schools first. If bombs are found, handle it before making any announcement," Conan said.
Megure nodded in agreement, and everyone split up to take action.
Satou was assigned to Teitan High, investigating without alarming anyone. Naturally, Conan, worried about Ran, insisted on tagging along.
Inside the quiet campus, students sat absorbed in their exams. The peaceful scene gave Conan a pang of nostalgia. Once, he'd been one of them—he had friends here, soccer club buddies. But now, he was just a little kid. He pushed the thought aside. First priority was making sure Ran was safe.
The bombs weren't hard to spot. Those suspicious oil drums clearly had no business being in a school.
Conan crept up, peered over the rim, and gasped. Bombs—nothing but bombs, packed full inside. And there were plenty more drums just like it. If they all went off, Teitan High would be reduced to rubble.
"Damn that bomber," Conan muttered. If he hadn't spotted this, Ran could've been killed. "Satou-keiji, these barrels are all explosives."
"Yeah, and there are a lot of them. I'll contact the bomb squad right now," Satou said.
But just then, Liu A'dou stopped them. "You'd better not do that."
"Liu A'dou?" Conan's face tightened. 'Why him again? And isn't he supposed to be in the middle of an exam?'
"I handed in my exam early. The bomber's been watching the school the whole time. If anything suspicious happens, he'll probably detonate right away."
"What?" Conan and Satou immediately scanned their surroundings.
"There!" Satou spotted the bomber. Sure enough, he was close by—the very man who had killed the one she loved.
"Satou-keiji? Wait!" Conan saw Satou dash forward and wanted to stop her, but there was no chance. "Satou-keiji, don't act rashly! He still has the remote!"
But Satou had already lost her reason.
Conan was torn—stay behind, or chase after her? Staying meant he couldn't protect Ran or defuse all these bombs anyway. The better option was to arrest the bomber directly. If he stopped the man from pressing the switch, that would be victory.
Chase!
Liu A'dou watched Conan pump his little legs after Satou's long strides and thought, 'How is that even possible? Totally unscientific.'
Would Satou actually kill the bomber? She truly loved Matsuda, and she hated the one who had killed him with every fiber of her being. In the original story, she had fired, but Takagi stopped her shot at the last moment. This time, Satou really meant to kill.
Matsuda's death had been too tragic, too senseless. If he'd lived, the excellent Matsuda and Satou could have had a happy life together—maybe already married, maybe even with kids.
But Matsuda was dead. And because he was gone, Satou only remembered the good—never the bad. She cherished their memories, even the quarrels seemed sweet in hindsight. Three years of longing, of missing him, had turned Matsuda into the perfect lover in her heart. All the more because he'd been her first love.
But Matsuda had been slaughtered, cruelly, mercilessly, by this bomber—forced to give up his life, and with it, Satou.
The bomber. Satou's eyes burned with killing intent like never before.
Conan trailed behind and saw Satou draw her gun. His heart skipped. He remembered the story gossip-loving traffic officer Yumi had told him, and he silently begged, 'Satou-keiji, don't do something foolish.'
But Satou couldn't hear his prayers. She stepped right up behind the bomber. "Hands up."
She was completely irrational, forgetting the bomber still held the remote.
"Don't come any closer. I'll blow it up—I'll take Teitan High straight to the skies." The bomber was startled but still confident the police couldn't touch him.
But Satou's gaze was wrong, filled with murderous fury. "Three years ago—the amusement park ferris wheel, the Beika General Hospital bombs—those were you too, weren't they?"
"So you've figured it out." The bomber didn't even deny it. "Didn't expect you to find me after defusing the bombs, but it doesn't matter. I'm going to make you cops into rats hated by everyone. Don't move, or I'll detonate right now and make you regret it."
"You… scum like you…" Thinking of her first love murdered by this trash, Satou couldn't hold back. Matsuda had been so gentle, so kind. Her finger rested on the trigger.
Just a small squeeze, and she could end this scum.
Conan, catching up, spotted the remote in the bomber's hand. He knew he had to act immediately, before the bombs went off. No hesitation—he went with his safest move: a soccer ball attack. Too far for a tranquilizer dart, but a kick would work.
"Ah!"
The ball flashed like light.
The remote in the bomber's hand shattered into pieces. His face froze in shock—without the remote, his arrogance was gone. He couldn't run now.
But Satou still refused to let him go. Her gun stayed aimed, her finger still tight on the trigger.
Conan sensed it right away—something was very wrong.