Conan's stance softened following the "Metropolitan Police: 12 Million Hostages" incident. Or rather, he began projecting his childish persona more explicitly around Furuya, much like he did with the Tokyo Metropolitan police. Around me, however, he maintained a cold, detached "anti-Organization" posture.
Furuya looked at him with a mix of irritation and exhaustion.
"It's a bit late to start playing the child now. And please, stop ignoring me so blatantly. It actually hurts."
"Eh? Hehe... You're just imagining things!"
Despite his primary school appearance, his true identity remained that of a high school student. Such an act felt entirely forced and transparent. Still, since he was technically a child either way, I found it somewhat tolerable.
Furuya sighed in disbelief.
"You're a brilliant kid, but you certainly have a 'bratty' side to you!"
Lately, I had been stunned myself when Conan nearly took a delinquent's head off with his Power-Enhancing Kick Shoes just because the boy tried to flirt with Ran-chan. You really are the embodiment of excessive jealousy! I had to restrain him with both arms, a chaotic scene of me shouting "Calm down!" while he yelled "Let me go!" This had to stop; it was basically a criminal assault. Besides, if he kicked someone's head like a soccer ball with those shoes, wouldn't it cause a gruesome disaster?
Anyway, this marked our first meeting with Heiji-kun. We were currently riding in a limousine provided by the Suzuki Financial Group, heading toward the Modern Art Museum in Osaka, which the group sponsored.
The case involved the "Memories Egg," a Romanov legacy targeted by the Phantom Thief Kid. The police had apparently requested Kogoro Mouri's assistance. As Mouri's "apprentice," the chairman of the Suzuki Group had sent me a formal invitation as well. Given the sequence of events, I reached a conclusion immediately: the Romanov heritage and the "Memories Egg" definitely meant the third movie, The Last Wizard of the Century.
The plot centers on Seiran Hoshi, known as "Scorpion," who assassinates those seeking the egg while working in the shadows to claim the Romanov legacy. Since the story ends with a fire, I couldn't deny that the trauma of the Mokuba-so arson might resurface... but it was generally a straightforward story without much cause for dread.
If there was a problem, it was this: Seiran Hoshi and I already knew each other. In fact, she had once tried to recruit me for a "duo," targeting my combat skills. At the time, leaving the Black Organization would have defeated my primary purpose, so I simply refused.
In my position as "The Wolf's Dog" and a member of the Lupin III gang, such invitations were as common as stars in the sky. I treated it as a regular occurrence, even if it occasionally earned me enemies.
We stepped out of the limousine and headed toward the museum where Chairman Suzuki awaited. There, we first encountered two people on a motorcycle: the high school detective of the West, Heiji Hattori, and his childhood friend, Kazuha Toyama.
Heiji called out Conan's real name without hesitation.
"Hey, Kudo!"
Furthermore, he added in a cheerful tone:
"Are you the old man's apprentice that guy on the phone mentioned?"
This caused Conan to let out a literal, exaggerated wail.
"Waaa! Waaa! Waaa!"
"What's with you, Kudo? Why the loud, over-the-top screaming? It's noisy. Speaking of the old man's apprentice... is this guy really okay?"
"Am—In front of Amuro-san, you—you idiot!?"
Conan reached a level of panic where his words no longer made sense. Feeling sorry for his state, I stepped in to save him. I crouched beside him and whispered in his ear.
"Conan-kun, I have some sad news for you."
"...What is it?"
"I've known the truth about you since the moment I arranged the meeting between Shiho-chan and her sister. There's no need to hide anymore."
"!? Damn it... then why haven't you reported me to the Organization?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just because."
"Just because!?"
The furious expression on his face was hardly fitting for a protagonist. Furuya-san and I couldn't stop laughing internally.
"I'm joking. If I reported you, Shiho-chan would eventually be exposed to the Organization as well. We don't want that."
"Blast you! You should have said that from the start! Stop playing with me!!"
"Hahaha. I enjoyed it; I couldn't help myself."
After calming the fuming Conan, I turned toward Hattori-kun. Since we were about to discuss Organization matters, I addressed Ran-chan and Detective Mouri as a precaution.
"My apologies, please go on inside. I have much to discuss with Hattori-kun."
"Kazuha, you go ahead too," Heiji added.
Sonoko-chan, sensing the mood, led Kazuha-chan away (who was grumbling, "Oh, why?") while saying, "There's a lot of 'man talk' to handle." I had always thought this, but the Suzuki heiress seemed remarkably adept at reading the room, perhaps due to her background. She was a socialite who knew exactly what was required of her from a simple smile. She was someone I hoped to ask for help later.
Avoiding the sweltering late-summer air, Detective Mouri and the others entered the cool building. Only Heiji-kun, Conan-kun, and I remained in the circular plaza.
Though it isn't important, it makes absolutely no sense that today is August 23rd, while last week was November 7th! Even when I asked Furuya-san, he just looked confused. "...? Is something wrong?" It was a somewhat terrifying experience.
Hattori-kun, his expression stern, pulled back slightly in a defensive stance and addressed us.
"...Hey, are you one of those so-called Organization members?"
"Yes. Nice to meet you. I'm Toru Amuro, known as Bourbon. I hope we get along."
"Ah, nice to—wait! You aren't someone I should be getting along with!?"
(Ah, there's that authentic Kansai accent!)
I flashed the most innocent smile I could muster—one that suggested I wouldn't hurt a fly—and placed my hands on Conan's shoulders.
"Don't worry, I'm just a harmless Organization executive."
"Listen, kid, unfortunately, the concept of 'harmless' doesn't exist when it comes to leaders of criminal syndicates!"
"It's the truth. After all, look. Conan-kun is still alive!"
"Ooooh!??!?"
"Is that supposed to be a real answer? Are you actually waiting for a response to that?"
Even though my words were technically true, neither of them accepted them. Conan suddenly shoved my hands off his shoulders and began grumbling like a cat being petted by someone it hates. If the underworld heard of this, they would be shocked: it was an extraordinary situation for those around "The Wolf's Dog" to remain unharmed despite their hostility, and for him to live openly without hiding. Some say my reputation is far too negative, but that's another matter.
Under the West's detective's suspicious and blatant glares, we safely entered the museum. Notably, Hattori's gaze softened halfway through when Conan advised him, "You should stop taking him so seriously; it just leaves you open to his mockery." Heiji took the advice to heart.
"What is this, Kudo? Are you really on good terms with an Organization executive?"
"I have my own complicated circumstances."
"...Well, whatever. Just don't die, Kudo. Promise you'll call me first if anything happens."
"...Alright."
The fact that Hattori-kun spoke loudly enough to ensure I heard proved he was fully aware of his actions. It was more of a threat—letting me know he was "watching me"—or a declaration that he would take revenge if anything happened to Conan. What a beautiful friendship.
Inside, the famous Chairman Suzuki greeted us with a grand, dignified welcome. Other guests were already present, and their gazes fell upon us all at once. Among them were Sergei, the first secretary of the Russian Embassy; an antique dealer named... Inui-san? (As I recalled); Seiran Hoshi, the Romanov researcher and thief; and the film director, Sagawa-san.
The moment my eyes met Hoshi-san's, she directed a precise killing intent toward me, targeting my right eye. It was a violent greeting. When I smiled back at her, Seiran realized the gap in our strength; she withdrew her intent and looked away.
What was this? A ranking test for wild animals? Her brief glance and eyes narrowed in frustration made her message perfectly clear: she wanted to speak with me in private.
Whether it was good luck or bad, I wasn't the only one who received that silent message. A heavy sigh escaped me as I saw the two detectives staring at me with piercing, sharp looks.
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