Chapter 134: Help Me, Big Brother in Black with a Gun
The culprit didn't even have time to scream or act, because that voice carried a cryptic power, turning into a bone-chilling frost that seeped into his body and mind, freezing him completely.
Behind that gloomy, low voice, Mo Yu's gaze was exceptionally cold, even dangerous.
As a criminal, being backed into a corner by a detective is pathetic enough. But what's even uglier is shouting at the detective to "produce evidence" at the very end. You've already chosen the path of crime and trampled on morality, yet in the final moment, you try to use the law and the detective's own ethics as a life-saving straw for one last struggle?
Normally, Mo Yu wouldn't say anything. Most criminals in the Conan world are at this level, and having swam in the depths of the internet for years and watched countless anime, he's seen every type of clown imaginable. He'd usually just laugh it off.
But that was on the condition that this clown wasn't wandering around using his name.
As a God, Mo Yu didn't particularly care whether his "kin" were righteous or evil. After all, the trope of a Holy Church or a God of Light being the final villain is a staple of web novels. However, Mo Yu believed that even a villain needs backbone and pride. Especially in this world-bubble where he manifested as the God of Crime, Moriarty. If his followers were all low-life thugs who couldn't even stand their ground, where would he put his face?
Thus, as the criminal made his dying struggle, Mo Yu struck through the link they had established.
"You are unqualified as a criminal or a follower. Fortunately, I'm short of an interesting prop, and you fit the bill perfectly. Now, perform a simple magic trick for these old faces on my behalf... and announce to them that I have never truly left..."
In the next instant, the criminal fell to his knees, letting out a shrill scream. But after a few moments, the scream shifted from pain to fanatical euphoria. The "Absolute Evil" will, the predator of all life, descended from the void, allowing him to feel an unspeakable ecstasy amidst boundless terror.
The saying "trouble comes from the mouth" is true. When he said he would offer "everything," he truly did—life, soul, fortune, and body were all presented to Mo Yu through the invisible link.
But that didn't matter anymore, for supreme bliss was descending!
The fanatical joy swept through every nerve, letting him know the Great Lord was watching. Inspector Megure and Conan were horrified. They could understand a criminal going insane, but when the screams turned to pleasure, it became truly nightmarish.
Because the criminal's skin and flesh were violently dissolving!
Conan was especially shocked. I just used a few words to deduce the truth, I didn't throw a bucket of sulfuric acid on him! Is the reaction really this big? Is this another change in the new world line?
But he soon realized it wasn't just him being dramatic. The criminal's flesh melted, then his bones, until he was nothing more than a puddle of pitch-black liquid flowing on the floor. Strangely, the screams—a mix of fear and joy—continued to echo from the black slurry.
Mo Yu watched. He hadn't actually "done" anything; he had simply "pulled" certain things away through the link.
The "Xiao Hei" body is condensed from the extreme Killing Intent of Heaven and Earth. Every inch is physical power. A true, complete Xiao Hei—like Mo Yu's Moriarty body—is comparable to Ichigo Kurosaki at 100% Absolute Domain in World 0: a super-power entity built from the torrent of the Soul King.
The problem lay here: Ichigo reached that level through his innate potential as a Transcender and a conviction strong enough to punch the world. What did these criminals have? A low-tier criminal heart?
If there was one "advantage," it was that by stepping onto the path of crime, they were already infected by the Killing Intent, giving them a slightly higher adaptability to it than a normal person. This manifested as an easier time coming up with "flashy" criminal plans. But that was it.
This OCD world-bubble wouldn't miss a chance to pay tribute to the original. A "Xiao Hei" wouldn't just be born; the Stands of these criminals—their fortune and souls in the backend—were the ones with the potential to become Xiao Heis.
Without Mo Yu's intervention, the world's criminals would occasionally manifest a "Xiao Hei" form during crimes for a short time, granting them ghostly movement or immortality while their identity was unknown. But these were temporary. Without the Moriarty shards, a human evolving into a permanent Xiao Hei was impossible.
But by using the shard, this criminal paid the price: he devoured his own Stand as fuel for the metamorphosis. By losing his Stand (his fortune), he lost his qualification as a "human."
And he didn't even get to enjoy the result. Because Mo Yu pulled out the "Moriarty Shard" power that stabilized the Xiao Hei form, the criminal was instantly swallowed by high-concentration Killing Intent.
It was like a cultivator losing the "Mantra" that suppressed their Qi. The energy went into a violent riot. Melting into a puddle of black pus wasn't the price; the true price was that even in this state, he was still "alive"—and much more "energetic" and "active" than before.
Killing Intent permeates all things. It is the root of evil in this world. Many criminals would never have started their path if not for a tiny negative thought being expanded by this intent until it became a twisted atrocity.
Pure killing intent, yet possessing the traits of infection, filth, expansion, and mutation. This was the true face of the world's malice.
The uncontrolled, physical Killing Intent fully manifested its traits, guided by Mo Yu. The black puddle of pus began to swell. Pitch-black tentacles emerged, writhing eerrily. More horrifyingly, eyes grew out of the tentacles, staring fixedly at everyone.
Inspector Megure, Kogoro, and Conan felt their Sanity points drop instantly! The monster radiated a majestic malice that stood in opposition to all life.
"Crime is an abyss of chaos. If you lack the will to be the Abyss Lord who rules it, then become part of the chaos itself. Laugh at reason with your mouth, show idiocy with your eyes, bite order with your teeth, and curse this ridiculous world of 'predestined things' with your very existence..."
The gloomy voice echoed in the void, delivering the Gospel of the Crime God. It was a blessing, and a curse.
The puddle expanded into a mountain-sized, amorphous mass of horror, waving dozens of eyed tentacles. The psychotic laughter grew louder.
Kogoro Mouri stammered, "Am I dreaming? Or is this criminal actually a Kaiju from a Tokusatsu show?"
The distorted thing looked like it belonged in a cosmic horror film, not a detective story. But thanks to this appearance, Kogoro's psychological block vanished. He instinctively aimed at the monster's "weak points" and opened fire. The bullets hit, but they just vanished into the amorphous flesh without a sound.
The shots weren't useless. The monster let out a crazed laugh and lashed a tentacle forward. It moved like a lightning strike, the thick limb swinging like a falling utility pole. The killing power was immense.
Megure, though not the best at deduction, was never lacking in bravery. He didn't understand the mutation, but his Stand's fists flew like the wind, engaging the beast while he gripped his last Inspiration Stick, ready for an ultimate move.
Among them, only Conan sensed the "Black Hand" behind the scenes. But he was helpless. Starting as a "useless child" in a world of supermen was hard enough. Realizing his proud deduction was now just a "support skill" was a blow to his ego.
And if the monster had lost all human reason and only knew how to laugh manically, what was the point of a "sharp deduction" or "ironclad evidence"? This creature would never kneel and repent for its sins.
Conan retreated from the shockwaves, feeling a surge of frustration. A different protagonist might have spiraled into self-loathing, but Conan's terrifyingly strong logic kept him calm. He needed power. To face the evil born from his own actions, he needed a way to fight.
But how do I get power?
His thought was interrupted by the nightmare whisper in his ear:
"Oh, my dear little Holmes... did you miss me? If not, I swear I'll have Grandma Brown kick your butt..."
Conan's body went rigid. Cold killing intent flashed in his eyes. Only Moriarty—the unpardonable evil—was someone Conan wanted to kill at any cost.
"Don't look at me like that, little Holmes. It doesn't suit your age. First, some bad news: after the Sixth Divergence, as your second personality and Stand, I was forced apart from you. We can't play games together all the time. You must be as sad as I am. But here's some good news: I found a way to keep playing. See that monster? I just modded him. The look, the aura, the tentacles... cool, right?"
Conan listened silently. He didn't ask why Moriarty was here; he had expected it after seeing the shards. He said with disgust:
"Moriarty, your aesthetics are appalling. And even after being stripped from me, you still intend to haunt me?"
"Heh. We were split, but we are one. You won't admit defeat, so why should I give up? Since we both rejected the ending of the Fifth World Line, our game must continue. Between Holmes and Moriarty, there is a winner and a loser, life and death—but never a draw where we coexist!"
Conan didn't argue. Moriarty's words hit home. The adult world of compromise and "gray areas" was not something Shinichi or Conan had learned yet.
"How do you want to play?" Conan asked.
The voice chuckled. "I created such a cool monster for a reason. From now on, they will be born endlessly, hunting you down with cool poses and lines. Surely, like a Hero, you will resolve everything stylishly. Until finally, you find the mastermind—me—and kill me, right?"
The moment Moriarty finished, the monster fighting Megure suddenly turned its head. Its myriad eyes locked onto Conan, turning blood-red. Its body swelled further as its laughter turned into a malicious murmur:
"Kill you... kill you... kill you..."
Seeing this sanity-shredding scene, Conan had only one thought: Moriarty, you bastard. But his logic made the smart choice: Strategic Retreat.
As Conan dashed out of the office toward the fire exit, a thunderous crash sounded behind him. The monster ignored Megure and Kogoro, smashing through walls with impossible speed, its tentacles whipping the air.
Conan vowed that when he found Moriarty, he would destroy him in a "stylish" (read: brutal) way. He lunged down the stairs, the sounds of Megure and Kogoro's struggle echoing above as they tried to stall the beast. He burst out of the building onto the street, but the monster smashed through the wall and leaped down after him.
Even in Beika, a monster of this scale was too much. Screams erupted as pedestrians fled. Conan bit his lip. He couldn't lead it toward a crowd; he had to find a quiet area and a way to win.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimmer of hope. He sprinted toward his "solution."
A silver Porsche was parked by the curb. A man in a black trench coat and fedora, with waist-length silver hair, leaned against the car, smoking.
Conan screamed at the top of his lungs:
"Big brother in black with the gun, SAVE ME!"
Gin's eyes flickered. His cold nature usually meant he wouldn't meddle in others' business. But that thought lasted only until he looked up and saw a mountain-sized, eyed monster charging at him like a rabid dog.
Suddenly, Gin began to laugh. A terrifying, cold laugh.
"Ah... Shinichi Kudo. You monster, you're still alive! My wandering through Beika looking for your trail wasn't in vain after all...!"
Conan, hearing this from a distance, nearly tripped. He thought Gin had recognized him, but then he realized Gin was staring at the monster behind him.
"Big brother, be careful! That monster is really strong!"
Out of residual guilt or basic kindness, Conan warned him. But Gin only smiled sharply and pulled out his gun.
A terrifying killing intent erupted, a majestic pillar of force piercing the sky!
End of Chapter
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