Gin silently replayed the night's events, especially the earlier scene between Jiangxia and Akira Shirakura, and lowered the muzzle of his gun. "…You really like to cast a wide net."
Last time, when Jiangxia left the sushi restaurant, he'd left a ghost behind to spy. Thanks to that, he'd more or less pieced together the shadowy narrative Gin had painstakingly created for him.
He sighed, half-hearted and a bit smug. "Can't help it. I'm not one of those famous detectives with a built-in 'incident physique.' If I want results, I've gotta take more detours than most."
Vodka: "…" Why do you make something so irritating sound so motivational? Are we supposed to praise you?
Just as Vodka stewed in disbelief, he saw Gin actually nod in approval, his tone tinged with rare appreciation. "Indeed."
Vodka: "…"
Big bro… please. Take another look. This guy's a lunatic with a license to kill.
Gin didn't usually go around murdering civilians—not out of morality, of course, but because keeping a low profile was better for the organization. Killing randomly in public? Messy, noisy, too much exposure.
If Jiangxia were the type to roam the streets at night grabbing random "lucky" victims, that'd be a problem. That kind of sloppy hunting would put them all at risk. But this guy? Just moved his mouth a little. No evidence. Barely leaves a trace. Neatly chaotic. Just the way Gin likes it.
From Gin's perspective, Jiangxia's method of gaining credibility was downright efficient. In a blink, he'd gone from some no-name high schooler to a detective people actually recognized.
Suspicion cleared, Gin turned to Akira Shirakura—who still hadn't noticed them and was approaching. "That bag he's carrying looks off. Check the shape."
With that, Gin got out of the car and melted into the shadows.
———
Akira Shirakura kept glancing at himself nervously, paranoid about leaving blood stains.
Just now, he'd asked Professor Hirota for a photo of him cross dressing, only for Hirota to say he couldn't remember which disk it was on. Then, laughing a little too casually, he'd said, "If it's that photo I sent you before, I can find that right away. Should I just send it to the editorial department for you?"
The photo he meant was from before Akira Shirakura's plastic surgery.
To Akira Shirakura, it was a slap in the face wrapped in blackmail. Furious, he grabbed a decorative object off the shelf, turned around, and cracked Hirota's skull from behind.
When the rage subsided, he stared at the corpse, and the instinct to survive kicked his little universe into overdrive.
He swiped all the disks, set the scene to look like a half-finished locked room where "Professor Hirota died in a bookshelf accident," and planned to stash the disks before coming back to finish the setup.
Wiping blood from his forearm, Akira Shirakura stepped into the cold gloom of the night and headed toward the parking lot.
Just then, a man passed him on the sidewalk, headed toward a vending machine.
It was late, and this stretch of road sat right at the edge of the streetlights' reach. Akira Shirakura couldn't see the man's face clearly and moved to pass him.
But as they brushed shoulders, the "passerby" suddenly grabbed his collar and shoved him into the shadows by the bridge.
Of course, the "passerby" was Jiangxia. The silhouettes of the other two nearby were impossible to mistake.
Akira Shirakura hit the ground with a nasty thud. The mud seemed to ripple. Vodka looked down at the spatter of nosebleed on his shoe, and blinked slowly.
Technically, this wasn't even a gory scene. For them, it was practically wholesome.
And yet… somehow, the way Jiangxia handled people always made things creepier.
Vodka pondered it and had a realization—other members might be ruthless, but it was all outward-facing. Jiangxia? He enjoyed nudging others into murder.
Gin didn't waste time on feelings. He just admired Jiangxia's clean takedown. He crouched, grabbed Akira Shirakura by the hair, yanked his head up, and started the interrogation.
When Akira Shirakura fell, the bag he'd been carrying hit the ground, and a cascade of disks spilled out. He'd swiped all of them, unsure which one had that photo, just in case.
Jiangxia gave the shikigami clinging to Akira Shirakura's leg a discreet tug, but it didn't loosen. He gave up for now and let Gin handle the questioning.
Instead, he squatted beside Vodka and started flipping through the disks.
He wasn't really looking. He didn't even know what the organization wanted or what the disk looked like. He was just making a show of it.
Then, mid-flick, something clicked.
According to the spoiler, Conan, Haibara Ai, and the Doctor show up not long after Professor Hirota's death. They're after the disk too.
Granted, reality and spoilers don't always match. He didn't know if they'd show today. But still—better to prepare.
Because if those three did come looking, and happened to spot him standing around with Gin and Vodka like they were on a team-building retreat… well, there goes the vest.
Thinking fast, Jiangxia let his shikigami slip out of the shadows and condense into the form of a tengu puppet—right in a blind spot from the road.
With that, he temporarily hung up his body and sent his consciousness soaring skyward with the puppet, scanning the surroundings.
This wasn't downtown. The sky was black, and the tengu's clothes, hair, wings—everything—were pitch-dark. From above, it blended in perfectly.
Down below, Gin focused on grilling Akira Shirakura while Jiangxia's body kept poking around the disks with Vodka.
No one noticed he'd "logged out."
And Vodka? Far from complaining, he actually seemed to sort better after Jiangxia stopped "helping." So clearly, his absence wasn't a problem.
———
Originally, Jiangxia had only meant to survey the area, just in case.
But then he spotted a Beetle driving down the road—Dr. Agasa's car.
He hovered in the air, tracking the vehicle's path. If it kept going, it'd run right into the black-clad trio by the bridge.
Sure, the three were hidden, but Gin's classic Porsche 356A wasn't exactly subtle. Haibara would definitely freak out, Conan would start snooping… it was just bad news.
With no time to waste, Jiangxia swooped down to intercept them.
Time for the simplest, most reliable tactic in his toolkit—
Touch porcelain.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 16/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:1/10*
Glossary:
touch porcelain – A term for faking injury or misfortune to scam or manipulate someone; here used comically.
vest – A disguise or cover identity; used in fandoms when a character risks blowing their secret.
incident physique – A joking way to say a character naturally attracts bizarre or dangerous events.