Chapter 329: Mondstadt Minister—Venti
After finishing lunch, Toru Amuro did not immediately take his leave.
Knowing that Kogoro Mouri was scheduled to meet a client that afternoon, and having no pressing shifts of his own, the blonde detective flashed an easy smile and suggested tagging along to learn a thing or two. Naturally, Kogoro agreed.
The group traveled together to the new address provided in the client's text message. They stood outside the designated meeting spot, watching the minutes tick by. After a long, fruitless wait, it became glaringly obvious that the client was a no-show.
Helpless and grumbling about wasted time, Kogoro led the group back to the Mouri Detective Agency.
However, the moment they stepped through the door, the atmosphere shifted. Through a series of subtle environmental clues—a misplaced item here, a scuff mark there—both Amuro and Conan Edogawa realized an intruder was hiding inside the agency.
A sudden, deafening gunshot shattered the quiet.
They rushed toward the source, throwing open the restroom door. Inside, a man sat slumped on the toilet, a gun resting limply near his hand in an apparent suicide. A few feet away, a woman lay bound and gagged with thick tape, her eyes wide with panic.
Inspector Megure arrived shortly after with his forensics team. After a brief investigation, he identified the bound woman as Kei Kenzuka. She claimed to be Kogoro's elusive client, stating she had come to commission him to trace the origins of a mysterious locker key. The deceased man in the restroom, Megure revealed, was directly linked to a violent bank robbery that had occurred four days prior.
By the time the police finished taking statements and clearing the scene, the sky outside had darkened into a deep twilight. Seeing the late hour, Amuro politely offered to drive Ms. Kenzuka back to her residence.
Somehow, through a chaotic series of misunderstandings and shifting plans, the entire Mouri trio—Kogoro, Ran, and Conan—along with Kei Kenzuka, all ended up cramming into Amuro's white Mazda.
Miles away from the bustling crime scene, Venti stepped out of the sliding glass doors of his hotel. He stretched his arms above his head, inhaling the cool evening air, and looked at his neon-lit surroundings with immense interest.
Having not been in this world for very long, the Anemo Archon was practically vibrating with excitement. A new world meant new taverns, new brewing techniques, and most —an endless supply of fine wines he had never even heard of, let alone tasted.
Thanks to a generous pouch of "activity funds" sponsored by Master Diluc—given strictly out of friendship and definitely not to get the bard out of his hair—Venti couldn't wait to hit the streets. He skipped away from the hotel entrance, his braided hair swaying as he scanned the vibrant city blocks for a suitable place to spend his newfound wealth.
He wandered through the bustling entertainment district until a sleek, high-end bar caught his eye. The warm amber lighting and the faint sound of jazz drifting from the doorway were enough to stop him in his tracks. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, he strolled right in.
"Please mix me a cocktail you're particularly good at!" Venti chirped, hopping onto a leather barstool and leaning over the mahogany counter, flashing the bartender a bright, expectant smile.
Hearing the overly cheerful voice, the bartender paused. He cast a flat, assessing glance at the youthful face framed by teal-tipped braids, then calmly turned back to the glass he was polishing.
"Sorry," the bartender said, his tone dry. "We don't serve alcohol to minors here."
Venti gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. "But I'm not a minor! Don't let this youthful, charming face fool you. I actually became an adult about eight hundred years ago."
"Is that so?" The bartender didn't even blink, his rag moving in slow, methodical circles over the crystal glass. "I've heard similar stories hundreds of times. Every high schooler who sneaks in here says the exact same thing."
"Oh, you..."
Venti let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. Defeated by the ironclad logic of modern liquor laws, he slumped back into the swivel chair and spun around. His emerald eyes scanned the dimly lit lounge, hoping to spot a generous patron who might be willing to treat a poor, thirsty bard to a drink. If someone else ordered for him, the bartender would have no choice but to pour it.
Coincidentally, a group of figures stepping through the bar's entrance immediately caught his attention.
At that exact moment, Glenlivet—better known to a select few as the Wanderer—walked through the door. He had just wrapped up a tedious mission and was dragged out to "relax" with Gin, Vodka, and Kir. In reality, this was less of a casual outing and more of an active guard detail over Kir, whose loyalty remained under heavy scrutiny.
"Vodka, you are agonizingly slow at parking," Glenlivet drawled, his voice dripping with condescension as he adjusted the collar of his dark jacket. "I've been standing at that door for an eternity waiting for your incompetent self."
Vodka's jaw tightened. He endured the insult for a brief second before snapping back, "There's a massive crowd near this bar. Besides, it didn't even take me a few minutes!"
"Yeah, and Glenlivet, considering you can't even legally order a drink at a bar without us present, you might want to watch your tone," Kir interjected, stepping up to support Vodka.
Under normal circumstances, Kir would never openly oppose Glenlivet. Given his volatile nature and the thinly veiled threats he constantly leveled at her, they were supposed to be in a fragile cooperative relationship.
But she simply could not stand the boy's toxic mouth. It was bad enough that every word he spoke was laced with poison, but he also showed zero regard for her life. Whenever Gin's paranoia flared and he suspected her of treason, Glenlivet never offered cover; instead, he casually tossed fuel onto the fire just to watch it burn.
If it weren't for the absolute necessity of keeping Eisuke safe, Kir often thought she would gladly burn this bridge and turn her back on their so-called cooperation entirely. She couldn't do anything to him on a grand scale, but she refused to let him win these petty, everyday bickers without a fight.
Glenlivet shot a sideways, glacial glare at Kir. He noted how increasingly irritable she had become lately. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to tear into her and demand she speak to him with proper respect, when a sudden, prickling sensation crawled up his spine.
Someone was staring at him.
His indigo eyes snapped forward, sweeping the room with lethal alertness.
Sitting at the bar was a youth in green, waving frantically at him with a blinding, euphoric smile, looking at him as if he were a literal savior descending from the heavens.
Glenlivet's expression instantly flatlined. He pivoted on his heel, fully intending to walk right back out the door.
Gin, who had been silently smoking and doing his utmost to ignore the grating bickering of his subordinates, suddenly froze.
His gaze, sharp and predatory as a hawk's, instantly locked onto the microscopic shift in Glenlivet's demeanor. He watched the arrogant youth's brow twitch into a deep frown, his eyes fixed on a specific corner of the room before he abruptly tried to retreat.
Sensing the anomaly, Gin lowered his head slightly, following Glenlivet's line of sight through the dim lighting.
There, sitting at the counter, was a cheerful youth waving at them with an overly familiar, friendly grin.
Gin's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The temperature around him seemed to plummet. "Glenlivet," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly threat. "Do you know him?"
Sensing the sudden shift in killing intent, Vodka and Kir immediately snapped their mouths shut, their hands inching toward their concealed weapons.
Realizing escape was no longer an option, Glenlivet slowly turned back around. He looked away from the waving bard and let out a dark, mocking sneer.
"Heh. Know him?" Glenlivet's voice dripped with absolute disdain. "How could I not know him? He was once kicked into the dirt by my former colleague, The Fair Lady."
He paused, a cruel, amused glint flashing in his eyes as he looked back at Gin.
"Oh, right. I should probably mention... he's also the Minister of Mondstadt. One of the seven major executives of the famous Teyvat Organization—Venti."
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