Chapter 51: Organization Base
The morning sun filtered through the windows of Teitan Elementary School's Class 1-B, but it did absolutely nothing to wake Conan Edogawa up. His eyelids felt like they were weighted with lead, his head repeatedly drooping toward his desk before snapping back up in a futile battle against exhaustion.
He mentally tallied the sheer chaos of the previous night. First came the counterfeit money ring. Then, the absolute panic of rushing to Dr. Agasa's house after Ai Haibara casually dropped the bomb that she was a former scientist for the Black Organization. That had been followed by the bone-chilling terror of believing his true identity was completely compromised. And to top it all off, he had stumbled right into a murder case at Professor Hirota's residence while trying to retrieve a mistakenly mailed floppy disk containing the drug research data.
In short, it had been a relentless marathon of disasters. Conan had barely slept a wink, leaving him dead on his feet today. Fortunately, this was a first-grade classroom. The teacher was currently explaining basic addition on the chalkboard, so it hardly mattered if a shrunken high school detective failed to pay attention.
'Yawn...' Conan opened his mouth wide, failing to stifle a massive, jaw-cracking yawn.
He turned his head slightly, resting his cheek on his arms, and looked at Haibara. She was sleeping quietly at the desk next to him. Seeing her peaceful expression, his mind flashed back to the dark alleyway last night. He remembered the desperate strength in her fingers as she gripped his shirt, the way her voice had cracked as she cried her heart out over her murdered sister.
It was that raw, unfiltered display of grief that finally convinced him. This girl, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere claiming to be a syndicate scientist, truly wanted to escape the darkness she had been born into.
Through her, Conan had finally grasped some tangible threads leading back to the syndicate. This massive, shadowy syndicate—where almost every member dressed in pitch black—used the names of alcoholic spirits as codenames for its core personnel. The two men who had ambushed him at the amusement park, forcing the experimental poison down his throat and turning him into a child, finally had names.
Gin and Vodka.
"If you keep staring at me, I am going to assume you are a pervert."
Conan flinched. Haibara had opened her eyes. Her ice-blue gaze locked directly onto his, her tone completely flat and indifferent.
"Huh? Sorry." Conan quickly rubbed the back of his head, realizing he had been staring a hole into the side of her face while lost in thought. He immediately looked away, a drop of sweat forming on his cheek.
"So, do you have something you want to ask me?" Haibara sat up slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "You have been staring for a while. Just so you know, there are some questions I might refuse to answer, even if you ask."
"I don't really have anything..." Conan trailed off. He genuinely had no immediate questions about the syndicate; he lacked enough leads to even know where to begin interrogating her.
But then, a thought struck him. There was one specific mystery that had been bothering him for days, a puzzle he had made absolutely zero progress on. Now that he had a former member of the criminal underground sitting right beside him—even a defected one—she might possess information that ordinary people could never access.
"Actually, Haibara," Conan lowered his voice, leaning closer. "When you were in the organization, did you ever see glass-like beads with this specific kind of casing?"
He pulled out his detective notebook and quickly sketched the complex, winged metal frames of the glass beads he had seen. He pushed the notebook across the desk. "Or, have you ever seen anyone wearing accessories that look exactly like this?"
Haibara found the question a bit strange, but she took the notebook anyway. She gave the sketch a brief, sweeping glance before pushing it back. "No."
"You didn't even look carefully!" Conan protested, his brow furrowing in dissatisfaction.
"There is no need to look closely," Haibara replied coolly. "If I had ever seen glass beads with such a highly distinct and unique metallic casing, I would definitely have a strong impression of them. Since my mind is completely blank upon seeing your drawing, it proves I have never encountered them."
Conan slumped back in his chair, a wave of disappointment washing over him. "Even you don't know?"
Haibara tilted her head, a flicker of curiosity breaking through her stoic mask. "So what exactly are these things? Do they have something to do with the organization?"
"They probably have nothing to do with those guys in black," Conan explained, tapping his pen against the notebook. "It is just that a few highly unusual people I have encountered recently all carry these exact same glass beads. And every single one of them is, more or less, connected to Natsume. You know, the older sister who took you to the newspaper office yesterday."
A confident smirk slowly spread across Conan's face. "Based on my detective's intuition, I am absolutely certain there is a massive secret hidden behind these items. And honestly? The process of unraveling a mystery, peeling back the layers, and slowly inching toward the hidden truth... isn't it exciting?"
He looked at Haibara, expecting to see a spark of shared intrigue.
Instead, Haibara simply stared at him. Her face was completely blank, her eyes deadpan and utterly unmoved by his dramatic speech.
The silence stretched. Conan's confident smirk slowly stiffened, then melted off his face entirely as he began to squirm under her flat gaze.
"What is that look for?" Conan muttered, his eye twitching. "Even if you are not interested, you don't have to keep such a straight face..."
"Speaking of which," Haibara ignored his complaining and shifted the topic. "Who exactly is that Natsume sister of yours? Her combat skills are far too refined. The way she moved... she is no worse than some of the elite killers in the organization's action team."
She recalled the brief, violent encounter at the newspaper office yesterday. Natsume had dismantled the kidnappers with a series of fluid, brutal, and highly efficient strikes that spoke of extensive, lethal experience.
"Heh, forget her combat skills for a second," Conan muttered, his eyes dropping into a deadpan half-moon stare. "She is practically inhuman in other ways too. Her night vision, for one, makes absolutely no logical sense..."
Leaning on his desk, Conan began to list off a long string of complaints to Haibara, detailing every outrageous, physics-defying trait he had observed from Natsume since they met.
...
"Achoo!"
Natsume suddenly sneezed, the sound echoing across the empty shoreline. She rubbed her nose, looking around the deserted beach. "Strange. Is someone talking bad about me right now?"
Paimon floated over, crossing her tiny arms. "It must be the wind, Traveler. The wind blowing off the sea is super strong today!"
"Yeah, you are right," Natsume agreed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I didn't expect the coastal winds to be this biting. If I had known, I would have worn thicker clothes. Could I actually be catching a cold? Wait, can Travelers even catch colds?"
"Hey, hey, don't talk as if you are some completely different species!" Paimon stomped her foot in mid-air. "Travelers are human too! And if humans get too cold, they catch colds. It is basic biology!"
"Hmm, Paimon makes a fair point," Natsume nodded thoughtfully. "But I still have a sneaking suspicion someone was talking behind my back just now."
"Hey! I just told you, there is absolutely no scientific basis for that kind of superstition!" Paimon huffed.
"Traveler, why are you standing by the sea all alone?" a deep, resonant voice called out from behind them. "The weather is pleasant today, but the coastal gales are sharp. It would be wise to take care of your health."
Natsume turned around, her face lighting up as she saw the tall figure approaching. "Zhongli, you are here. I am fine, really. I was just getting a bit excited thinking about how this entire island belongs to us from now on, so I came down to the shoreline to catch the breeze."
She looked back out at the crashing waves, then down at the sandy expanse stretching far into the distance. She frowned slightly. "But... is this island really supposed to be this massive?"
Natsume mentally calculated the sheer distance she had walked since arriving. The physical landmass beneath her feet felt significantly larger than the scale she had seen on the official maritime map Ningguang had shown her. Even the geographical shape of the coastline seemed slightly altered.
"The island we purchased was not actually this large," Zhongli said calmly, coming to a stop beside her. He looked out over the endless blue ocean, his hands clasped behind his back, and delivered a statement that left Natsume completely dumbfounded. "I simply found a way to add some land to it."
Natsume blinked, her brain stalling.
"Ningguang possesses exceptional business acumen," Zhongli continued, his tone conversational and measured. "However, even with her expertise, the financial backing of Mondstadt's Diluc, and your own monetary contributions, Traveler, our timeframe was simply too narrow. Our liquid capital could not secure a larger landmass."
He gestured gracefully toward the horizon. "Therefore, when she asked for my assistance, she deliberately selected this specific island to serve as the organization's headquarters. It sits incredibly far from any surrounding mainland, entirely absent from standard shipping routes, making it practically impossible for outsiders to discover. The climate is highly suitable. And as for the drawback of its insufficient surface area... that was easily compensated for by me."
Natsume stared at him, her jaw slightly slack. "As expected of Zhongli... wait, you can actually just do that?"
She hadn't even considered the possibility. Buying a cheap, tiny, isolated rock in the middle of the ocean and then artificially expanding its landmass using Geo Archon powers? The profit margins on that kind of real estate manipulation were absolutely staggering.
As expected of Liyue's finest. A true merchant never allowed themselves to suffer a financial loss.
"Naturally," Zhongli replied, his expression entirely serious. "After purchasing the island, the territory belongs entirely to us. Therefore, we are naturally free to alter the landscape however we see fit. Expanding the shoreline does not violate any local real estate contracts, does it?"
Natsume slowly raised her hand, giving the former God of Contracts a deeply respectful thumbs up.
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