Conan eventually let go of Kaito.

Last night, KID had not only sent a heist notice, but had the audacity to declare he was reclaiming a lost suit—requesting the police kindly return it washed and cleaned.

P.S.: The suit is quite valuable. Please handle it with care. Do not wash with water. Dry clean only.

Inspector Nakamori stormed into the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department first thing in the morning, only to be swarmed by a horde of reporters at the gates. Microphones shoved into his face, questions flying about the heist notice. He bellowed at the reporters and the cameras:

"Don't get cocky, KID! How about returning the gemstone you lost last time before making demands? What do you think MPD is—a professional dry cleaner store? You jerk!"

He took a few deep breaths, then added:

"I spent nearly an hour scrubbing that coat by hand. Show some damn gratitude. When I catch you, I'll make sure the warden assigns you to the laundry unit. You'll see how fun that is!"

Conan shook his head with a sigh.

Yes, while the deduction last night was logically sound, there were still alternative explanations. Based solely on the heist notice and the clues in hand, it was plausible KID could have expelled the drug immediately upon falling into the water—rendering the dosage ineffective. After all, when Gin forced poison into Kudo's mouth, he yanked his bangs back and poured it in. Bourbon, on the other hand, only shoved a capsule into KID's mouth before tossing him into the pool. KID might never have swallowed it.

Glancing again at the clueless Kuroba Kaito, Conan clutched his phone and returned to his seat.

The classroom post-midterm felt more like a zoo.

"Hey, did you know there's a special Kamen Yaiba movie airing at 6 tonight?!"

"Huh? But I'm going out for a barbecue with my parents! No way I'll be back in time. Don't you dare spoil it for me."

"What's so great about Kamen Yaiba? My cousin's taking me to see the latest Marvel superhero flick on Sunday night," Kuraki boasted.

"Why not Saturday?" Genta asked. "You always turn in your homework late after the holidays. And you're still going out?"

Kuraki raised a brow, annoyed. "Because Saturday I'm going to see my idol live."

"Your idol? Which one?" Ayumi asked curiously.

"Hmph... none of your business," Kuraki sniffed, turning away. "You all don't need to know."

"Seriously? Stingy much. It's not like I care that much anyway," Genta pouted. "Fine, keep your secret... whatever... who even cares?!"

Conan: ...You obviously do.

First period was math. The teacher walked in carrying a massive stack of graded tests.

"OK,everyone, please return to your seats now. I know you're all excited about next week's field trip, but we still have lessons to get through. Clear your desks of everything except a red pen. I'll be passing out someone else's paper, not your own. I'll read the correct answers aloud. Help me check for grading errors. If you spot a correct answer marked wrong, or vice versa, circle the question number in red. Don't doodle on someone else's test. Once done, return it to the owner."

Conan, seated toward the back, watched the students in front of him sigh. Glancing at the test in the hands of the student in front, he saw a chaotic mess of doodles and the teacher's red corrections—a dizzying sight. He offered:

"Want to switch?"

"Thank you, Edogawa-kun," the student said gratefully, carefully handing over the messy math sheet and retrieving Haibara Ai's instead.

".................."

62 points. Just scraping the pass line. Conan examined the messy handwriting, silently judging. Thankfully, the student had written their seat number—otherwise, he wouldn't have known whose test this even was.

As the teacher wrote the answers on the board, Conan began checking.

Ishikawa Kaito's multiple choice was down by 10 points, mostly due to large-number addition errors. But he got quite a few conceptual questions right. Apparently, visual methods like drawing circles helped him understand better. Still, as the numbers got larger, his circles overlapped—likely miscounted, leading to errors in the latter half.

The clock-reading problems were a mixed bag. The matching questions weren't bad. However, in a question that clearly required identifying a one-to-one function, his answers showed many-to-one and one-to-many relationships—multiple answers for a single question. Yet the teacher didn't mark all of them wrong.

In the final section of pure calculations, he scored nothing. Conan squinted, trying to decipher Ishikawa Kaito's logic through the chicken-scratch and doodles. He struggled to understand how someone could get everything wrong.

But then it clicked. For single-digit arithmetic, he drew pictures. For anything more complex, he just "added the numbers"—as in, concatenating digits, not adding values. Then he'd do single-digit math on the result.

2+4=? 6

8-1-2=? 5

1+3+4+5=? 3

1+1+3+8-5=? 4

111+25=11125

28+30+3= 2833

13+24+5=?1329

14+12+2-2+3-3=? 1416

Honestly, 62 points was generous. Partial credit was Ishikawa's saving grace.

Sensei asked, "Everything correct? I'm writing down the class score distribution. You'll get an idea of where you stand. Congrats to those who did well—clearly you've mastered the semester so far. If your score's low, don't be sad. Keep at it. I'll find some classmates to help those who need extra support as tutors."

Kids forgot things easily. Ishikawa Kaito, in front of Conan, had clearly forgotten the earlier "incident." Eyes wide, he turned around:

"How'd I do?"

Conan swallowed. The hopeful eyes of his not-so-academic classmate made even the rational detective hesitate. A glance at the board confirmed it—Ishikawa Kaito ranked dead last. The class average was 85. He was the outlier. By far.

"Ah... seriously?" Kaito tilted his head, visibly distressed. "Thanks anyway, Edogawa-kun."

Conan nodded, already being dragged into another discussion about problem-solving. But he couldn't help casting a worried glance backward. Even Ayumi noticed:

"Ishikawa-kun looks really upset. I saw how hard he tried during the test. If it were me, I think I'd cry."

"If you have time to fuss over others, why not focus on fixing your own careless mistakes?" Haibara Ai, having just tucked away her perfect paper, advised gently. "Some people are simply destined to cause trouble. Better to stay away."

"Hey, hey.........." Conan gave a half-lidded eye. "Feels like you're hinting at me."

"Oh my, so I was being too blunt, huh?" Haibara Ai returned to her seat and resumed reading her science magazine. Ayumi sighed, stuffed the mechanical pencil and the scrap paper back into Conan's hands, and asked him to help with the last question. Conan nodded, glanced back again—and saw that Kaito had already slumped over his desk, face buried in the crook of his arms and tousled hair.

Maybe it was guilt. Guilt from earlier, when he had doubted Ishikawa Kaito

But as Haibara Ai had said, some people were simply destined to run on parallel tracks. Ishikawa Kaito and Conan were worlds apart in actual age, and even their intellectual levels were on entirely different planes. Conan could befriend him, yes—but only as a classmate. It sounded melancholic, but it was the truth. Edogawa Conan never let go of any chance to reclaim his identity as Kudo Shinichi .

Halfway through reviewing his test, a shadow passed by outside, followed by a knock at the door.

"I'll step next door to consult with another teacher. You may start correcting your papers, everyone," said Kobayashi-sensei.

The moment Kobayashi-sensei turned and exited the classroom, Kuraki seized his chance. He had been waiting. Now was the time. As the saying goes, "Heaven is high and the emperor is far away" He slipped from his seat like a wisp of smoke and dashed to the back.

Ayumi yelped as he bumped her shoulder. "Ow—!"

"Wahahaha! Let me see!" Kuraki forcefully yanked the paper from Kuroba's hands. Kuroba Kaito instinctively held it down, refusing to let go.

"What the hell are you doing? Go back to your seat! Hey !!! Wait___Let go!"

Kuroba Kaito was in a foul mood. He blamed himself for applying high school grading averages to an elementary-level math test—an absolute miscalculation. Forget average—he had become the most conspicuous student in the entire school: the dead-last bottom-feeder.

Too much attention!

"Let me see!" Kuraki's arms were unusually muscular. No one knew what kind of diet he was on, but he didn't look like a chubby Genta—more like a solidly built cola bottle. He always swung around yo-yos and diabolos, and somehow, his arms now had two obvious muscle balls. All brawn, but effective. Kuroba feared the paper would get torn and had no choice but to let go.

Kuraki cackled. He was already a full head taller than Kuroba. All he had to do was raise the paper high above his head, and Kuroba could barely reach.

"Haibara... they're bullying Ishikawa-kun again. What do we do?"

"...Ayumi." Haibara Ai shook her head slightly. "The teacher will be back soon. She needs to see it herself. That's what's best for Ishikawa-kun. What are you going to do, fight him?"

"But..."

Kuroba Kaito decided to play along, leaping up in protest. "Kuraki! Give it back! That's my test! What the hell are you doing?!"

Kuraki laughed harder and batted his hand away. His sidekicks crowded around, yelling:

"What's the score, huh? Tell me tell me."

"I better not be dead last again—my dad'll whip me with his belt."

"Don't worry, I bet Ishikawa is worse than you."

"Give_It_Back! Knock it off!" Kaito shouted.

Kuraki's grin widened. Seeing Kaito's usually aloof face twist into anger only egged him on. He jumped up on the desk. "What'd you get, huh? 62?! Oh my god, what the hell did you get wrong?"

His exaggerated tone and expressions sent everyone into fits of laughter.

"Jesus Christ, you flunked basic addition and subtraction? Hey, back row—looks like you're not the dumbest in class after all! Oh man, wait—listen to this: 111 + 25 = 11125. 28 + 30 + 3 = 2833! This guy just strung the numbers together. Hahahaha, what a riot! So by your logic, 14 + 12 should be 1412, right?"

"Ah... but weren't there more numbers after that?" Kuroba tilted his head.

"Idiot. Those numbers cancel each other out! What the hell's in that brain of yours? Hahahaha— OW!"

Whizz!

A burning pain zapped through Kuraki's hand. He had no choice but to let go. The crumpled paper fell. Kuraki spun around, stunned.

Conan's foot was frozen midair, smoke curling from the sole of his shoe. A rubber eraser, launched like a missile, slammed into the back bulletin board, bounced off with a loud thud, and plopped straight into a water bucket.

"C-Co... Conan..."

The look on Edogawa Conan's face was one never meant for a child. His eyes—sharp, severe—reflected Kuraki's bulky frame and shrank it into insignificance.

Kuraki froze. He had always viewed Conan with suspicion, always kept his distance. Never once had he seen through this quiet classmate.

Now, even though Kuraki feared no one at school—not even teachers—he flinched. He instinctively stepped down, nearly toppling from the desk.

Conan advanced, eyes blazing through Kuraki's defenses.

Picking up the test paper, he barked: "Enough! That's enough!"

"You... mind your own damn business..." Kuraki muttered.

"Did he give you permission to go through his paper?" Edogawa Conan's tone was razor-sharp.

"I... I mean, he didn't say no..." Kuraki mumbled.

"Oh really? Because all of us heard it—loud and clear—didn't Ishikawa-kun tell you to give it back?"

Kuraki stumbled a few steps back. That boy's presence—it was like a commanding officer storming the battlefield. Relentless. And Kuraki's bluster wasn't enough to hold the line. He was retreating.

"So what if he's dumb? Did he ever wrong you? If anything, you should thank him. Without him dragging down the average, maybe you'd have fallen below it. What the hell are you mocking him for?"

Each question landed like a hammer. Kuraki had no response.

Kuroba, on the other hand, twitched at the eye. Sure, the famous detective had stood up for him—but that was the first time someone had seriously called him an idiot.

Which is sucks.

" Did he steal your score—so what exactly is your problem with him? Is bullying the weak your only pleasure in life?" Conan frowned.
"Let me tell you, what you're doing is bullying. Don't think that just because you're young and your parents are there to shield you, you can act like you're above the law. A lot of things in life, you have to take responsibility for yourself."

Kuraki raised his eyebrows, fury simmering, yet he couldn't find the words to argue back. The anger swelled in his chest with no way to release it, and there was no way he could lay a hand on Conan. He stomped back to his seat, fuming and frustrated.

Just when Kuroba thought Conan, having fulfilled his duty as a detective, would take his leave, the boy turned and headed back to his desk without sparing him so much as a glance or a word. Kuroba's face flushed crimson as he lowered his head, his stomach cramping sharply—

Haahahaha.............

Then came the rustle of movement ahead—the sound of someone packing up, followed by a deep, heavy thud like a sack of rocks hitting the floor. Kuroba turned pale.

No way... you've got to be kidding...

_____Bam.

Kuroba Kaito slowly lifted his head. A backpack now occupied the seat beside him. The girl who had been sitting there was gone. Conan now sat at his side, methodically unloading books from the bag into the drawer and lining notebooks up one by one. The entire classroom had fallen into a stunned, breathless silence. Only the sound of mingled breathing remained as Kuroba stared, wide-eyed and horrified, whileMeitantei finished settling in and finally turned to look him straight in the eye.

At that moment, Kobayashi-Sensei happened to finish her conversation and returned to the classroom with a stack of test papers.

"Sensei, I'd like to change seats. May I sit with Ishikawa-san?" Conan's voice rang loud and clear.

Kobayashi had originally planned to ask Conan to help Kuroba after class, but he took the initiative before she could even open her mouth. Delighted, she immediately agreed and turned back to the board to resume the lesson.

Kuroba Kaito rubbed his eyes. Maybe his vision had been damaged from shrinking—he wasn't sure—but today, Conan looked nothing like his usual self.

He wasn't the brat who bared his teeth when backed into a corner. No, today he was calm, composed. Clean-cut lines framed his features, and that utterly self-assured smile looked as if it could slice through lies and pretenses with surgical precision. He was like an arrow, drawn tight on the bowstring, ready for a deadly shot. He radiated quiet precision, cutting through to the truth with unwavering clarity.

Light and shadow danced along the angles of his face, sketching out a pair of eyes startlingly similar to Kuroba's own. Hints of misty mystery cloaked those eyes—the same shade of blue, just as piercingly clear.

Staring into them, Kuroba Kaito lost all ability to speak.

The sky.

It was the sky itself—boundless, ever-changing, a canvas of dreams and futures. Just one look and he was already lost.

It was the night, littered with stars, dazzling and bright. All one had to do was look up, and they'd find their guide.

"From now on, if you don't understand something, just ask me. Whatever you don't know, I'll teach you."

______________________________

"Whatever you don't understand, I'll teach you... Where the hell did he even learn to say something like that... Is this what detectives train for? To look cool?"

KID leaned against the iron railing, glove in hand, lazily slapping it against his face.

"Tsk... Say that line to Ran, not to me......you damn detective."

He rolled onto his back, eyes fixed on the sunless night sky. With a twist of his wrist, a chain of interlocking rings materialized in his palms—a set of entangled metal loops. The pieces were uneven, twisted in shape, the kind of puzzle that once snapped together, would not come undone easily... unless...Unless you pressed just the right notch...

Well then, Meitantei, let's see if you can catch me this time.

_____________________________________________

Conan kept his eyes on the ticking hand of his watch, swallowing dryly. If KID was truly going to appear tonight, did that mean he had never actually been drugged and escaped after all? Or had Bourbon lied to him from the start...?

No. Bourbon had no reason to deceive him. If anything, he could've kept his mouth shut altogether rather than deliberately stirring suspicion.

Earlier that day, as he walked down from the office with Uncle Mouri, Conan spotted Amuro cleaning the glass door at the front of the café.

"Aren't you going to see KID's performance tonight, Amuro-san?" Conan kept up appearances in front of Ran.

"No. I'm waiting to hear from you. The boss has been watching me too closely lately. He doesn't want any trouble."

Conan nodded. Once Mouri Ran and Kogoro were out of sight, he quickly doubled back.

"I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Be careful. I suspect someone might be impersonating KID. If things get strange, don't take any chances."

9:45 PM. Inside the museum, the air dropped to freezing.

The exhibition was held in the central atrium of the museum. The space, towering nine meters high, was walled in glass—flooded with natural light by day, and lit from within by an array of lights at night. The showcase stood at the center, but it wasn't just any display case: it was a high-voltage electric trap disguised as a glass dome. The top was rigged with a live conductor, connected to the containment system in real-time. The voltage hovered just below the maximum safe limit.

Anyone who tried to pry it open or break in would be instantly electrocuted and rendered unconscious. The case itself was solid, sealed with plaster, no hidden compartments, no room for anyone to hide.

KID's target tonight: The First Dance.

By the time Conan and the others entered the hall, Inspector Nakamori and Suzuki had already activated every defense system. The area was locked down tight. If anything was even slightly amiss, the alarm would sound instantly.

Five hours before the operation, Nakamori and Suzuki were already barking orders, triggering a complete lockdown. Meanwhile, fans and curious onlookers had crowded the surrounding streets, forcing the police to cordon off the area entirely.

"Has the surveillance camera on the rooftop been fixed? I don't want that bastard sneaking in with a hot air balloon again! If it doesn't work, I swear I'll have someone sit on the roof all night!"

"It's sealed. We even welded steel bars on top and filled it with adhesive. Not even a rat can crawl through." a subordinate reported.

At that moment, hearty laughter rang out as several bodyguards escorted Suzuki Jirokichi to the hall.

"Ha ha ha! Not even KID could break through my latest security system! That brat doesn't stand a chance!"

Nakamori muttered something under his breath, clearly feeling the lack of proper vigilance among his men. Then, suddenly, he raised his voice and barked out commands, startling more than a few officers into attention.

"Attention everyone! From now on, no one is allowed to leave their post, zone out, or rest! I don't care if you haven't slept for two days straight—if he succeeds tonight, I swear, you'll all be writing reports until next year!"

Suzuki Jirokichi let out a hearty laugh, stomping the floor with his heels. "Don't underestimate these anti-theft devices. The simpler, the better! Simplicity, a solid counter, an electrified display case, and the most primitive brute-force manpower strategy—I'll do whatever it takes to keep my treasure safe."

Nakamori narrowed his eyes. "Huh? Don't you usually go on and on about how the jewel doesn't matter and catching that guy is your real goal? What changed....... could it be that you........are Kaitou KID?"

His fingers twisted restlessly. Suzuki shot him a glare. "Catching that guy is a given. But he didn't return the jewel he took last time. I still want it back. Since there's no guarantee he'll return it this time either, I need to mitigate any financial losses. Hahahaha!"

Conan turned his head in exasperation.

He still couldn't fathom why KID the Phantom Thief kept flaunting his presence even after the incident. Why stick to the flashy notice letters, the dramatic, public announcements of each crime? Isn't he worried it'll draw the Organization's attention?

"Besides...curator? I assume you've already explained our security setup to Nakamori- keibu, right?"

"Of course," the curator replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "Suzuki-sama, it's about time. Please move to the guest room upstairs. If anything happens to you here, how on earth could I compensate for that?"

"Don't worry, don't worry. I'm not scared of some petty thief. If he dares lay a finger on me, I'll—wham!—throw him over my shoulder."

He stroked his stubbly chin. "Don't let my age fool you. I'm over seventy, sure, but I've picked up a few moves from Sonoko's boyfriend, Kyogoku Makoto. Want me to snap your arm to prove it?"

The curator took a nervous step back. "That might not be the best idea..."

"Then shut your mouth and stop doubting me. This time, I'll definitely—"

Before he could finish, the ten o'clock chime rang precisely on time. Nakamori's expression changed suddenly. "Wait... What if he cuts the power?"

Snap—

As if answering his fears, a shadow slipped behind the suit of armor closest to the window, and the next moment, the immaculate white-clad thief stepped forth from the darkness.

Everyone stared in anticipation—how was he going to pull it off this time? He was nearly ten meters from the gem display, which was surrounded by a ring of officers. Yet with a snap of his fingers, white smoke burst from the floorboards.

"Quick! Gas masks on!"

Conan ducked behind another display case and activated the tranquilizer watch, aiming at KID.

But the phantom thief didn't move. Instead, he chuckled, as if amused, and offered a slight bow. "Tonight, I've come not only to take the gem... but also to express my deepest apologies. I'm afraid... I'll need to borrow 'The Last Dance' a little longer, Suzuki-san."

Nakamori hesitated, unsure what to make of the smoke slowly rising and forming a screen between KID and the crowd. He didn't dare step through but still growled, "What kind of nonsense is this?! Just say you're stealing it! Fine! As long as you come quietly, we'll find it ourselves—you don't even have to return it!"

KID swept his cape with a grin. "Afraid I can't oblige. But tonight... allow me to present a magical performance as my apology."

His gaze flicked—brief but unmistakable—toward Conan's hiding spot. Conan immediately fired. KID smirked and smoothly sidestepped the dart. A split second later, a crackling sound exploded into darkness—the power cut.

Before the blackout fully took hold, Nakamori leapt onto the display case, intent on shielding it with his own body until power returned. He wasn't an idiot—he'd come prepared with a waterproof coat to avoid being electrocuted when power came back.

"Damn it! That bastard!" He growled, limbs clenched tight over the display, but in the pitch black, he heard the thief's voice.

"Please, everyone, no need to panic. I won't do anything bad to you while it's dark. Truth be told, my leg's still a bit hurt tonight—I'll skip the skirmish. Now, allow me to show you some magic, alright? Considering it as compensation."

What?!

Conan gritted his teeth. Sure, Agasa-hakase's glass let him track people in the dark, but now the entire floor and half the room were cloaked in fog. He couldn't see a damn thing.

Damn it—where is he?

What's he planning?!

"Meitantei, I won't play with you tonight. Little boys should get their sleep if they want to grow taller." KID teased. "Now then... forgive me, but I'll be taking my leave. Good night."

KID's voice echoed in Conan's ear—deep, smooth, magnetic.

Nakamori shouted and gestured wildly. "Backup power, now! It's been ten seconds—we should be—"

Crack!

The sudden flood of light left everyone blinking and dazed. Nakamori tumbled off the display, groaning and scrambling up as he cursed, "Idiots! Not all at once! The gem! Where's the damn gem?!"

"Inspector! It's gone—he... KID stole the jewel!"

What?!

Edogawa Conan, true to his reputation, stood stunned as the smoke cleared, staring at the now-empty display case under the harsh lights. Speechless. Unbelieving.

His heart pounded. Pupils dilated. Every nerve and muscle in his body tensed. Eyes scanning the entire room, every object, every person—he missed nothing.

Not this time.

Yes. How did KID, standing at a distance, manage to steal "The First Dance" from the display case in just that half-minute of blackout?

The more chaotic the scene, the more composed one must be. Conan retraced every second of what had happened in that brief ten-minute window. The true turning point had to be when KID cut the power, plunging the museum into complete darkness.

That meant his method once again hinged on misdirection. But how had he retrieved the jewel from afar? Retrieving an object remotely?

The moment the gem vanished, Suzuki exploded like a cactus in a thunderstorm, shouting and pointing out the window: "Look!!! Isn't that KID's glider? Damn it!"

One officer squinted, unsure. "Could that... be a robot?"

"A robot your ass!!! Look at that figure—does that look like a robot? Damn it!" Nakamori snapped, picking up the cry. "All units, pursue immediately!"

"Wait, wait—hey! If all of you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do?! Leave some personnel behind at least!" The curator came stumbling out from the back.

"S-should I keep the power to the display on or...?!"

Wait—

Conan paused. "Could it be... what he needed wasn't darkness... but the —"

"Hah?" Nakamori stopped, glaring at the curator with a look that screamed are you an idiot? "The gem's gone! What's the point of leaving the power on?! I'm busy as hell here. You deal with it."

Like a stampede of wild horses, the police stormed out.

"........have a good time chasing the dummy doll."

The curator scratched his head, visibly torn. Finally, he went to the control room and powered down the entire security system. As he turned the doorknob lightly, he found a small boy waiting for him inside.

"Conan?"

"No more games, KID... I've already unraveled the trick behind your so-called magic."

________________________________

Conan stood with hands in his pockets, casually leaning by the display case, watching as KID took out a lock picking tool and popped open the glass dome in a matter of seconds. Conan stood on tiptoe, peering at the "white plaster" inside the case and smiling slightly. "Just as I thought... This isn't ordinary plaster. I'm guessing you tampered with the case earlier in your role as the curator, raising its height."

KID gave him a glance. "Oh? So Meitantei knows what this substance is?"

"Indeed. 'Smart fluids'—a class of materials that alter their physical properties in response to external stimuli. They can shift instantly from a free-flowing liquid to a gelatinous, semi-solid state, or vice versa. There are two main types: electrorheological fluids (ERF), controlled by electric fields, and magnetorheological fluids (MRF), influenced by magnetic fields.

"These fluids are used in everything from automatic suspension systems to tactical gear and medical aids. When unpowered, they behave like oil or milk—viscous but fluid, slick like a liquid. But once powered, they thicken dramatically, resembling jelly, it absolutely can support the weight of the jewelry, and the changes can be done in the blink of an eye."

Conan adjusted his glasses, watching as KID retrieved the jewel from the milky-white liquid.

"You didn't cut the power to obscure vision—you did it to shut off the current feeding the smart fluid, returning it to its liquid state, then the jewelry sank into the bottom of the fluid. Naturally, no matter how many guards you station around the case, once the fluid reverts, the gem simply sinks and vanishes."

Conan bent down slowly. "In other words, your little 'telekinetic magic show' was just a clever illusion."

"Clever illusion? I'll take that as a compliment."

KID let out a cold chuckle. With one fluid motion, as though he had eyes in the back of his head, he sidestepped a tranquilizer dart that shot from the shadows.

"Meitantei... so you brought backup, huh?"

Despite Amuro's speed, swapping out an empty magazine for a fresh one in a blink, KID had already leapt to the eaves, perching on one foot along the rail. Behind him sprawled the lavish, pitch-black skyline, whipped by night winds.

"KID!!!"

Conan dashed out but was greeted only by KID's gloved fingers tipping his top hat. He grinned wickedly. "Thank you all for the warm concern. See you in the next illusion."

With a straight backward fall, he vanished into the darkness.

Conan rushed to the railing, gripping it with both hands and peering downward. Below, only the roar of traffic and a flurry of drifting feathers met his eyes.

"Damn it! He slipped away again."

Conan took a few breaths and stood upright, startled to see a man stepping out from the shadows.

"You still showed up? I thought you were not coming."

"There's something... you might not want to hear," said Furuya, tightening his lips. He wouldn't speak more unless he absolutely had to.

"The Organization's upper echelon is considering a trade with KID. They want the briefcase back."

Conan gave a small nod. "If neither side has intel or operational leverage, proposing a trade would be a logical first move—to test the waters."

"Problem is... you don't want him making that trade," Conan said, glancing at the gun in man's hand.

"Do you know what's inside that briefcase?"

"Not exactly... but the Public Security Bureau tracked the contact Vodka dealt with. Turns out, it's a pharmaceutical company in the U.S. I suspect you're thinking what I'm thinking..."

Conan went silent for a moment. "What do you plan to do?"

"We need to find him before the Organization does. Which means—" Furuya's tone hardened. "I want him to go through with the exchange deal... but with a fake briefcase, prepped by us. On the surface, he'll be trading with them—but in reality, he is cooperating with us."

" If the things inside the briefcase are really what we think, we may have a huge breakthrough." Amuro said.

This felt like stabbing him in the back to Conan. There had to be a better way.

" Maybe we can take the real case back 'after the deal'...... I doubt that after all this trouble, Vodka is still not going to check the case before closing the deal. And...... Amuro san...... I don't want to drag him into this.