Chapter 19: Matsuda Jinpei
"Seven-Colored Glazed Pancakes," Xiangling announced, pointing proudly at the second dish placed in the center of the table.
Conan stared down at the vibrant yellow pancakes. The surface was speckled with a chaotic array of brightly colored ingredients, completely obscured by a thin, glowing glaze. From the outside, it was absolutely impossible to deduce what those chunks of color actually were.
Hey, hey, what on earth are all these strange additions? Conan thought, his brow twitching. The red and orange bits are obviously ham and carrots, but what about the rest? There is literally blue in there. I cannot fathom a single natural blue ingredient that belongs in a pancake. This looks significantly more dangerous than that grilled lizard from earlier.
"Look closely!" Xiangling beamed, leaning over the table to point out the details. "Inside this perfectly thin layer of egg skin, we have red ham, orange carrots, yellow frog meat, green lotus leaves, blue butterfly wings, and purple grapes! Ah, do you really not want to try a bite?"
Conan felt his appetite instantly evaporate. Frog meat was pushing it, but hearing the rest of the list completely paralyzed his jaw. Butterfly wings? Were those even legally edible?!
The other three children sitting beside him shared absolutely none of his existential dread. The surprisingly delicious taste of the charcoal-grilled lizard had completely shattered their culinary boundaries, filling them with blind confidence in whatever Xiangling brought out next. also, the Seven-Colored Glazed Pancakes did not look terrifying. Despite the chaotic color palette, the bright, candy-like appearance appealed directly to the kids. Without a second thought, they grabbed their forks and dug in.
Just as before, the dish did not disappoint. Although there were a dozen conflicting ingredients packed into the batter, the flavors did not clash in the slightest. Instead, they melted together into a perfectly balanced, savory-sweet profile. Happy murmurs filled the room as the children chewed. Genta, true to form, swallowed his first piece whole and immediately reached across the table to snatch a second.
Watching their delighted reactions, Conan skeptically picked up his fork and carved off a tiny corner. He placed it on his tongue.
This is entirely unscientific. How can a random assortment of frog meat, grapes, and insect wings mixed together taste this incredible?
Seeing the absolute shock on the little detective's face, Xiangling crossed her arms, looking immensely proud. "How is it? Tastes good, right?"
Hehe, I see you are all about to be completely conquered by my cooking! Xiangling cheered internally. "Now, it is time for you to taste the brand-new dish I have been working so hard to perfect. The grand finale... Slime Sautéed Mushrooms! Ta-da!"
She placed a large, steaming bowl on the table. Conan leaned forward, his glasses catching the light as he inspected the contents. Sitting among the roasted mushrooms was a mass of transparent, crystalline jelly.
Hey, hey, wait a minute. Conan squinted. Isn't this literally shaped exactly like a Slime from a fantasy RPG? The resemblance is way too accurate.
"Wow! So cool! It looks exactly like a real Slime!" Genta cheered, immediately scooping up a massive spoonful of the jiggly substance.
"Wait!" Conan reached out, but he was a second too late. He could only watch helplessly as Genta shoved the strange, glowing jelly into his mouth. Conan stared at the boy with genuine concern. "How... how does it taste?"
Genta chewed slowly, his face scrunching up as he searched for the right words. "The taste is a bit strange. It is a little cold, but also a little sweet. It feels super slippery going down the throat. It feels exactly like I am really eating a Slime!"
Mitsuhiko and Ayumi leaned in, their eyes sparkling with immense interest. Even Conan felt a reluctant surge of curiosity. Unable to resist, the three of them grabbed their spoons and took a cautious bite.
"Wow!" Mitsuhiko and Ayumi gasped in unison. "It really does feel like eating a Slime! Sister Xiangling, your cooking is amazing!"
Hearing the pure, unfiltered praise from the children, Xiangling rubbed the back of her neck, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "Thank you for the compliments! I will definitely work twice as hard to invent even more delicious dishes in the future!" she declared, nodding with absolute determination.
Conan sat back, utterly speechless as he surveyed the empty plates on the table. You have already worked hard enough. A normal human being would never even conceptualize these recipes. And how on earth did she manage to replicate the exact texture and appearance of a fictional monster for those Slime Sautéed Mushrooms? If he were not absolutely certain that fantasy Slimes did not exist in the real world, he would have sworn she went out and hunted one.
Determined to get to the bottom of this culinary mystery, Conan hopped off his chair, walked over to Xiangling, and tugged gently on her apron. He looked up, widening his eyes to deploy his best, most innocent child persona. "Sister Xiangling, what are the ingredients for this last dish? Is it really made out of a Slime?"
Xiangling burst into laughter, waving her hand dismissively. "Haha, how could I possibly use real Slimes? This is my ultimate secret recipe. I cannot tell anyone. It is a strict chef's secret!"
Mitsuhiko turned to Conan, adopting a very serious, educational tone. "Conan, Slimes do not exist in this world. They are just in video games."
"Exactly," Ayumi chimed in, tilting her head. "Does Conan actually believe Slimes are real?"
"Of course not! I... I was just asking a question." Conan forced a laugh. He obviously knew Slimes were fictional; he just wanted to trick her into revealing the actual ingredients. But since Xiangling was keeping her lips sealed, there was nothing he could do. It was not a matter of life and death, but his chronically unsatisfied curiosity left an irritating itch in the back of his mind.
Hovering invisibly near the ceiling, Paimon looked down at the empty bowl.
[Traveler, that was actually made with real Slime Condensate, wasn't it?]
Natsume watched Xiangling's slightly awkward smile from across the room.
'Yes. It was made with the Slime Condensate we obtained from the system's mission rewards and gacha pulls.'
Both Paimon and Natsume shared a long, silent moment of telepathic exasperation.
[Sigh...]
Meanwhile, across the city at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
Inside the Violent Crimes Division of the First Investigation Division, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of stale coffee and frantic typing. Most of the officers were buried under mountains of paperwork, desperately processing the massive influx of information regarding the Shinkansen Bombing Incident from a few days prior.
Although the crisis had been averted and the bomb successfully dismantled before causing any casualties, the bureaucratic aftermath was a nightmare. The detectives had to process hundreds of witness statements, trace the criminals' financial transaction records, track the origin of the explosives, and file endless reports.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," Inspector Megure called out, not looking up from the file on his desk.
The door clicked open. Megure finally raised his head, his eyes widening slightly beneath the brim of his signature hat.
"Matsuda? What brings you all the way up here? Is there a problem?"
Megure studied the young man standing in the doorway. Matsuda Jinpei wore his usual dark suit, his curly hair slightly messy, dark sunglasses resting in his breast pocket.
It had been three years since Matsuda had abruptly transferred into the Violent Crimes Division. Megure knew perfectly well that the young officer's sole motivation for joining his team back then was to hunt down the bomber responsible for the death of his best friend, Officer Kenji Hagiwara.
It had been a turbulent time. Matsuda was brilliant but reckless, his rebellious nature constantly clashing with the strict hierarchy of the police force. Yet, his sharp mind had been an obvious asset. Eventually, the bomber had resurfaced. During the ensuing chaos, Matsuda had nearly lost his life on a Ferris wheel, suffering injuries that landed him in the hospital for weeks.
Once he was discharged, having successfully seen Hagiwara's killer brought to justice, Matsuda had requested a transfer back to his original unit. The Explosive Ordnance Disposal Squad was desperately short-handed, and with his personal vendetta resolved, he returned to defusing bombs.
Though their time working together had been brief, Megure held a deep respect for the young man. Matsuda was calm under pressure, fiercely intelligent, and dedicated everything to his craft. He had ruffled plenty of feathers among the older detectives, but Megure always appreciated results over politeness.
"Inspector Megure," Matsuda said, his voice casual but carrying a distinct weight. "Could you let me take a look at the witness statements from the Shinkansen incident the other day?"
Megure blinked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, there is no problem letting you see them. The files are not strictly confidential at this stage. But... why the sudden interest in this case?"
"Ah, it is nothing major," Matsuda replied, stepping further into the office. "I think I ran into an acquaintance on that train. Sato mentioned that this person was directly involved in the incident, so I wanted to check the statements to get a clearer picture of the situation."
Matsuda kept his expression perfectly neutral, but his mind was racing. He was still fixated on the blonde girl he had crossed paths with on the Shinkansen. It had only been a fleeting glance in the aisle, but her facial features, the shape of her eyes, the very aura she carried... she looked exactly like the man who had suddenly appeared on the Ferris wheel three years ago.
The memory was burned into his mind. The digital timer on the bomb ticking down to zero. The high-altitude cabin offering zero chance of escape. He had accepted his death. And then, as if stepping out of thin air, a young man with striking blonde hair had materialized inside the confined space.
Before Matsuda could even process the impossibility of the situation, the stranger had grabbed him, forcefully hauling him out of the Ferris wheel cabin just a fraction of a second before the bomb detonated. The concussive shockwave of the explosion had knocked Matsuda unconscious mid-air.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was lying in a sterile hospital bed. The doctors told him it was a miracle. He had survived a close-range C4 explosion and a massive free-fall with nothing but minor fractures and concussions. But the real mystery was the crime scene. When Matsuda interrogated the first responders, every single officer confirmed the exact same story: Matsuda was found alone in the wreckage. No one else was seen approaching the Ferris wheel, and no other bodies were recovered.
If he were not absolutely certain of his own sanity, Matsuda would have written the entire rescue off as a near-death hallucination.
For months after his discharge, he had quietly used every resource at his disposal to track down his savior. He checked traffic cameras, hospital records, and anonymous tips. Nothing. The blonde man had appeared like a ghost and vanished just as completely.
But today, encountering that girl on the train had triggered every instinct he possessed as a detective. His gut screamed that there was a direct connection between her and the phantom who had saved his life.
Megure handed over a thick manila folder. Matsuda flipped through the pages quickly, his eyes scanning the dense text until he found the specific statement filed by Natsume. He memorized the residential address printed at the top of the form, snapping the folder shut. He would pay that location a visit the moment his shift ended.
"Thanks, Inspector," Matsuda said, handing the file back. He offered a brief nod of farewell, turned on his heel, and walked out of the office, his mind already calculating his next move.
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