Chapter 221: The Culprit Confesses
Conan Edogawa's head whipped around, his gaze locking onto Lisa with a mixture of intense doubt and burning curiosity. What had she seen? What crucial piece of evidence had allowed her to pinpoint the killer with such unnerving speed?
At the same time, a familiar, ominous premonition began to coil in his gut. 'Could it be?' he thought, a sliver of unease creeping in. 'Is her method of solving cases… the same as Natsume's?'
Before Inspector Megure could even formulate the question, Lisa acted. Without the slightest hesitation, she raised a slender finger and pointed directly at the man in Booth 2—Honma Kyota.
"Mr. Honma," she stated, her voice cutting through the low hum of the crime scene, "you're the one who killed that man, aren't you?" Her eyes flickered meaningfully toward the cold corpse lying just a few feet away.
Honma Kyota bristled, his face contorting with outrage at the sudden accusation. "What are you talking about?!" he boomed, his denial sharp and loud. "That's slander!"
Inspector Megure, however, leaned forward, his expression alight with expectation. "Miss Lisa," he prompted, "since you're so certain Mr. Honma is the murderer, have you discovered some definitive evidence?"
All eyes turned to the elegant librarian. Facing their collective gaze, Lisa calmly tucked a stray lock of her brown hair behind her ear, a faint, almost apologetic smile on her lips. "Evidence?" she repeated, her tone disarmingly frank. "I'm sorry, Inspector, but I haven't found any."
Conan, who had been watching with breathless anticipation, felt his shoulders slump. He had been ready for a brilliant, irrefutable chain of logic, but this… this was just an empty claim.
The accused, Honma Kyota, seized on her admission, his anger flaring anew. "No evidence?!" he sputtered, his voice trembling with indignation. "Then how can you stand there and accuse me of being a killer?! On what grounds?!" His eyes, wide with fury, burned with a sense of deep injustice.
Lisa, however, seemed entirely unconcerned by his outburst. She simply turned her serene gaze back to the inspector. "I may not have physical evidence," she clarified, her tone steady and confident, "but my accusation wasn't random."
Before Honma could protest again, Lisa began to lay out her reasoning. "The answer, Inspector, began with these photographs," she said, gesturing toward the evidence bag. "The victim had been stalking us—or rather, a closer look at the photos reveals his true target was Sonoko. Given Miss Suzuki's family background, the motive is painfully obvious: a kidnapping for ransom."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. ", look at the contents of his bag. The rope, the restraints, the careful planning… this wasn't an amateur's first attempt. This man was a professional, or at the very least, a repeat offender."
With that, Lisa crossed her arms and began to pace slowly toward Honma Kyota, her heels clicking softly on the floor. She stopped directly in front of him, her gaze sharp and penetrating. "So, that brings us to the real question," she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Is it possible that the person who killed this kidnapper did so as an act of revenge for one of his past crimes?"
Her stare was heavy, a evident pressure that seemed to suck the air from around them.
A sheen of sweat broke out on Honma Kyota's forehead, and the color drained from his face. He struggled to maintain his composure, forcing a dismissive scoff. "How should I know? You should be asking the killer that question, not me."
"So, you still insist you didn't kill this man?" Lisa pressed, her voice taking on a harder edge.
Honma gave a cold, brittle laugh and crossed his arms, mirroring her earlier posture. "Of course. This is all just a story you've concocted. I don't even know this person. And besides, you said it yourself—you have no evidence."
He seemed to have regained a sliver of his confidence, the initial shock of her accurate guess having worn off. What Honma didn't realize, however, was that in those few short minutes, his fleeting moment of panic had been witnessed and cataloged by both Inspector Megure and Conan Edogawa.
Conan, in particular, had observed the man's every micro-expression. The flicker of fear in his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands—it was an unmistakable reaction. Lisa wasn't wrong. This man was almost certainly the culprit.
But how? How did she know? There was no logical precursor, no trail of clues to follow. From beginning to end, her deduction seemed to spring from thin air, leaving even Conan completely baffled. As Honma had pointed out, there was no concrete proof.
Lisa, however, had no intention of looking for any. She knew that in such a short time, finding a key clue was nearly impossible. Instead, she took a different approach.
She turned and walked back to Honma's side, gesturing for him to look down at the victim on the floor. "You say you don't know him. Very well. If you say one simple sentence to the deceased, I will believe you have no connection to him."
Honma's eyes narrowed. "What sentence?"
"Just look at him and say: 'You were a good person.'" Lisa's voice was soft, almost gentle, but to Honma Kyota's ears, it sounded like the hiss of a sorceress forcing him to swallow a fatal poison. A sharp, agonizing pain lanced through his heart.
The room fell silent. Everyone watched, waiting.
It was just a single sentence. A simple string of words.
But as Honma Kyota stared at the loathsome, lifeless face on the ground, he swallowed hard, his throat working. The words 'You were a good person' felt like gravel in his mouth, impossible to form, impossible to speak.
At that moment, a soft sigh from Lisa broke the tension. "Mr. Honma, you've already had your revenge, but that can't change the past. Turn yourself in. It's the only path forward for you now."
Honma's gaze remained fixed on the corpse, his heart a maelstrom of hatred. This was the man who had cruelly murdered his son—that bright, innocent life, extinguished far too soon.
Lisa was right. He had succeeded. His revenge was complete, and for a fleeting moment, he had felt a deep, long-awaited satisfaction. But it was immediately followed by a hollow emptiness, a sense of loss that felt even greater than before. He stared at the kidnapper's body, and an ocean of sorrow and regret washed over him. He realized, with crushing finality, that even this act of vengeance could not bring his son back.
Now, it was time to pay the price. Perhaps, in doing so, he could find some small measure of peace.
"I understand..." Honma Kyota's lips trembled, his voice hoarse and laced with a deep, helpless resignation. As if a dam had finally broken, he began to speak, confessing the method and the motive behind the murder.
The case was solved. Though the conclusion felt somewhat abrupt, Inspector Megure and his officers were relieved to have apprehended the criminal with such efficiency.
Only Conan Edogawa, standing off to the side, remained completely dumbfounded.
'No, wait, why?' he thought frantically. 'Lisa just said a few words, and the killer confessed? How on earth did she pinpoint him in the first place?'
The curiosity was too much to bear. He ran straight to Lisa's side. "How did you know?" he asked, his voice full of a child's earnest bewilderment.
The police officers, who were in the middle of cuffing Honma, paused. Even the confessed murderer himself turned his head, his tear-streaked face etched with the same question. It was clear that everyone in the room was desperate to know the answer.
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