Chapter 105: The Mysterious Culprit, "Xiao Hei"
"Shinichi, you're late again!"
"Ran, let me explain..."
Shinichi Kudo rushed to the meeting spot, only to find his childhood friend, Ran Mouri, wearing a sweet smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her fists were clenched, and a vein was throbbing on her forehead. He immediately began his frantic explanation.
To Ran, however, Shinichi's excuses were nothing new. It was always the same: a case had occurred, his eyes had lit up, and he had thrown himself into it heart and soul, tossing everything else to the back of his mind.
She was used to it, but habit didn't stop the frustration. She couldn't help but yell:
"You idiot mystery geek!"
Then, clenching her delicate fist, she swung a punch. As the wind pressure hit his face, Shinichi's pupils shrank. He jerked his head aside just in time to hear a loud thud. The wall behind him had been caved in by Ran's fist, leaving a head-sized web of cracks.
Before Shinichi could even wipe the cold sweat from his brow, he spent the next ten minutes coaxing Ran back into good spirits. Only after she finally broke into a smile did he mutter to himself:
"I shouldn't have encouraged her to learn Karate... she's getting more violent by the day..."
Regardless, the two set off on their "date"—though neither would ever admit it was one.
Walking side-by-side, a youthful, hazy affection began to sprout in their hearts. However, this feeling rarely lasted. Shinichi soon reverted to his usual self, his mouth running a mile a minute about the details of the recent case: how he deduced the truth and how the culprit confessed.
Finally, Shinichi critiqued that the culprit's posture—kneeling in repentance after being intimidated by his reasoning—wasn't quite "standard" and had room for improvement.
Ran looked on helplessly. She wasn't interested in his endless deductions, but she was resigned. Who else was going to put up with a mystery-obsessed childhood friend whose catchphrase was becoming the "Sherlock Holmes of the Heisei Era"?
Yet, Ran had to admit that this was precisely where Shinichi's unique charm lay. While other high schoolers were still wandering aimlessly through their studies, Shinichi had already stepped firmly toward his future. He didn't just talk; he devoted himself entirely to solving crimes. Through constant effort, he had become Japan's most famous high school detective, even hailed by the media as the "Savior of the Police Force."
As they walked and chatted, Shinichi's professional training kept his eyes moving, subconsciously scanning his surroundings. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. He caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision and instinctively turned, shouting:
"Who's there!?"
"Shinichi, what's wrong?"
Ran looked where he was pointing. There was nothing there but a bare utility pole. Shinichi paused, scratching his head, and said uncertainly:
"I thought I saw a pitch-black figure staring at me with a really evil look... maybe I just saw things."
Ran laughed. "You definitely saw things. There's no such thing as a person who's completely black."
Shinichi shrugged and dropped the subject, walking away with Ran. At the utility pole, however, a silhouette—void-black and ominous—eerie stepped out from behind the pole. Despite the blazing sun, the figure was wrapped in a strange, gloomy darkness that defied detail. Only the eyeballs and a row of teeth were a stark, brilliant white.
The black figure watched Shinichi and Ran walk away, a distorted smile spreading across its face.
"Mama, a ghost...!"
Just then, a small child stepped around the corner. Seeing the black silhouette, the kid dropped his lollipop and let out a world-shaking scream. The black figure glanced at the boy, gave a cheerful wave, and before the mother could rush over, retreated behind the pole and vanished completely.
Shinichi was restless for the rest of the afternoon, his mind wandering even after several scoldings from Ran.
He had caught glimpses of that black figure several more times, but whenever he turned to look, there was nothing. When he finally confessed this to Ran, she looked frightened:
"Could it be... a victim from one of your cases? A ghost coming back to haunt you?"
Knowing Shinichi's attitude—how his eyes lit up at a corpse without a shred of reverence for life or death—Ran, as an ordinary high school girl, had long been worried about him.
"There are no ghosts in this world!"
A firm believer in science, Shinichi naturally dismissed Ran's nonsense. But the phenomenon was real. Seeking an answer, he began to wonder if his recent frequency of solving cases was too high, leading to hallucinations.
Ran, being considerate, suggested they end the date early so he could go home and rest. Disappointed but unable to argue, Shinichi agreed.
On the way home, he couldn't stop thinking about it. As a mystery geek, an unsolvable puzzle was enough to ruin his sleep.
His parents were abroad, leaving the massive mansion to Shinichi alone. After a quick meal of instant food, he went straight to his bookshelves, pulling out professional medical and psychology texts to find an explanation.
He read deep into the night. Just as he was engrossed in a text, the lights in the study abruptly went out.
Shinichi's heart sank. He turned his head and saw a "person" standing in the shadows outside the room.
The figure merged with the darkness yet stood out with a deeper, more profound outline. Shinichi stared intensely, confirming this wasn't a hallucination that would vanish in a blink. He asked in a low voice:
"Who are you?"
"As the Savior of the Police Force, the most famous high school detective in Japan... you've been obsessed with puzzles since you could remember. Why don't you use that clever brain of yours? Deduce who I am."
The voice from the darkness was low, gloomy, and carried an unspeakable sense of malice.
Shinichi was already manically churning his thoughts. But deduction isn't magic, and being a detective isn't just about guessing. Though he ruled out ghosts, finding a logical origin for the being before him was difficult. He eventually bluffed:
"Hmph. If you think you can play tricks on me with these boring magic stunts, you've underestimated me."
The Conan world-bubble wasn't just full of detectives; it was home to many phantom thieves. Many of their tricks seemed like actual magic until the mechanisms were revealed. Shinichi had read up on their methods, so he kept his cool.
The voice from the darkness chuckled. "Shinichi Kudo... you are still too arrogant. Fine. According to the rules, I'll play a mystery game with you. Just remember: at the start of this game, you are already dead. I've simply lent you an extra life so you can start over..."
The figure in the dark seemed to turn to leave. Shinichi, unwilling to let him go, prepared to give chase. But in that instant, the lights flickered back on, and the black humanoid had vanished once again.
"Damn it. I hate riddlers."
Despite his annoyance, the "high-purity mystery elements" flowing in his veins made him vibrate with excitement at the sudden challenge.
Shinichi prepared to sweep the room for clues or traces. He heard a click behind him. He spun around, his pupils shrinking.
Inside the bookshelf, a simple firing mechanism had been installed, hidden behind books. The mechanism had been triggered. A crossbow bolt was now buried in the chair where Shinichi had been sitting moments ago, having pierced it almost entirely.
Now he understood what the shadow meant: He was already dead, just living on borrowed time.
"Damn it... modifying traps in someone else's house... don't think you're getting away. I will catch you!"
Shinichi was angry, but a fanatical, almost manic smile curled the corners of his mouth.
The mysterious shadow, meanwhile, had already left the Kudo mansion. Like a ghost, he appeared a short distance away in the home of Professor Agasa.
The top inventor of the Conan world was, as usual, immersed in his research—inventing a bunch of strange gadgets driven by his excessive inspiration. He had no idea a mysterious black figure was standing right behind him, silently watching.
This figure was, of course, Mo Yu. He had a reason for appearing in this form.
He hadn't expected the Conan world to give him such a "surprise." Upon his arrival, the vast crimson light filling the world had latched onto him like a curse, a blessing, and a binding all at once. In the end, it had forged a body for Mo Yu's will and sight: the form of "Xiao Hei" (The Black Man/The Silhouette Culprit)—pitch black except for white eyes and teeth.
This body possessed unique, mystical innate skills!
Not only could he come and go without a trace, but through this body, Mo Yu had also "self-taught" himself how to create and set up elaborate murder traps. The crossbow in Shinichi's study had been cobbled together by Mo Yu using a nearby trash can as raw material. Turning a plastic bin into a metal firing mechanism was one thing, but the bolt was even tipped with poison!
Mo Yu had to marvel: The Silver Sea is vast indeed; there's a first time for everything.
However, the "Xiao Hei" body wasn't perfect. A thick, suffocating killing intent constantly rose in Mo Yu's heart. Just looking at the Professor's back, Mo Yu felt a powerful urge to walk up and...
Stab him, strangle him, beat him to death—kill Professor Agasa by any means necessary!
This wasn't just a negative emotion; it was a divine ability. Driven by this killing intent, every object in the lab—even a single screw—looked like a "lethal weapon." Just by staring at a screw, a dozen elaborate murder methods and trap designs flashed through his mind.
If Jackie Chan's talent was being the "War God of the Furniture Store," capable of using any household item to fight, then Mo Yu's current killing intent could be called "Furniture Store God of Death." Anything in his sight could be the centerpiece of a locked-room murder.
End of Chapter
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