Chapter 56: The Memorial Service
Conan Edogawa stood completely frozen, his mouth hanging slightly open as Natsume's stern lecture washed over him. He desperately wanted to explain the life-or-death stakes of his actions, to justify why he was tampering with a vehicle, but the words died in his throat. In Natsume's pragmatic eyes, he was nothing more than a mischievous elementary school student caught red-handed breaking into someone's car.
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, resembling a stranded fish. Unable to conjure a single believable excuse that wouldn't expose his true identity, he could only swallow his pride. He obediently lowered his head, staring at the tips of his sneakers. "I am sorry, Sister Natsume. I know I was wrong, and I will not do it again."
The moment the apology left his lips, Conan caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, shooting a thoroughly unimpressed glare at the person standing beside him. Ai Haibara had turned her face away, but her shoulders were trembling violently in a desperate attempt to suppress her laughter.
'Hey, what are you so amused about?'Conan grumbled internally, his eyes narrowing into half-moons.'Weren't you shaking like a leaf just a minute ago? Suddenly you are not scared anymore?'
"And Haibara, do not think you can just stand there and laugh!" Natsume shifted her sharp gaze, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I always thought you were the mature one. But when Conan made a mistake, not only did you fail to stop him, you actually climbed into the car with him and acted as his lookout. Do you realize the gravity of what you did?"
In Natsume's worldview, discipline was a package deal. If she was going to hand out a scolding, she would make sure every culprit received their fair share. There would be no favoritism in her makeshift family.
"I am sorry, Sister Natsume. I will not do it next time." Haibara released a soft, helpless sigh. The amusement vanished from her face as she mirrored Conan's posture, bowing her head in quiet submission.
This time, the tables turned. Conan fought back a smug smirk.
'Heh, weren't you just mocking me?'he thought, relishing the moment.'How does it feel now that you are in the hot seat?'
"Just apologizing is not enough. I expect you both to follow through with better behavior," Natsume continued, her posture rigid. She softened slightly when looking at the young girl. "I worry a bit less about Haibara, as she usually avoids this sort of trouble. But Dr. Agasa, I need you to pay much closer attention to them from now on."
She turned her intense focus toward the elderly inventor. Dr. Hiroshi Agasa, clearly overwhelmed by Natsume's imposing, authoritative aura, blinked owlishly. He could only manage a blank, frantic nod of agreement.
"As for you, Conan..." Natsume's voice dropped an octave.
A sudden, icy sense of dread pooled in Conan's stomach. Every instinct he possessed as a detective screamed that whatever Natsume was about to say next would be absolutely devastating.
His instincts were entirely correct.
"I took photos of you picking that lock," Natsume stated flatly. "If I ever find out you have done something this reckless and bad again, Conan, I will send every single picture straight to your Sister Ran Mouri. I am sure she would love to give you a proper education on manners."
To emphasize her threat, Natsume pulled her smartphone from her pocket, tapped open her photo gallery, and tilted the screen down.
Conan's eyes widened in horror as he quickly scanned the digital evidence. A wave of relief washed over him first—the angles were shot from behind. Neither his nor Haibara's faces were clearly visible. He did not have to worry about the photos leaking and giving the Black Organization the visual proof they needed to connect these two children to Shinichi Kudo and Sherry.
But that relief evaporated in an instant. Ran Mouri would not need to see his face. She would instantly recognize his clothes, his posture, and the back of his head. She would know exactly who the child picking a car lock was. And given Ran's terrifying, concrete-shattering karate skills...
No. Ran absolutely could not see those photos. He would not survive the interrogation.
Throwing all his dignity out the window, Conan jumped up, his small hands grasping desperately toward the device. "Sister Natsume! I promise! I swear I will never do anything like that again! Please delete the photos! Please, just delete them!"
"Not a chance!" Natsume swiftly raised her arm high above her head, keeping the phone entirely out of the frantic boy's reach. She looked down at him, her expression unyielding.
Despite his best efforts and most pitiful pleading, Conan utterly failed to persuade her. He eventually had to settle for a tense compromise: as long as he kept his nose clean and made no more 'mistakes', Natsume would keep the photos hidden from Ran.
Once Natsume finally turned and walked away, the heavy atmosphere dissolved. Haibara crossed her arms, a dry smirk returning to her lips. "Edogawa, you really looked like a pathetic little kid desperately trying to cover up a mistake just now."
Conan shot her a flat, half-moon glare. "Heh. You were pretty good at playing the obedient little kid yourself."
Brushing off his bruised ego, Conan immediately shifted his focus back to the real crisis. He reached up, pulling the hidden antenna from the frame of his glasses. The playful annoyance vanished from his face, replaced by the sharp intensity of a detective. "At least we did not waste too much time. I can still track the signal from the emitter I planted on Gin's car."
Wasting no more time, Conan directed Dr. Agasa to start the engine. With Haibara sitting rigidly in the back seat, her face drained of all previous amusement, they followed the blinking red dot on Conan's lenses, trailing the path of Gin's classic Porsche.
The pursuit was short-lived. A sharp burst of static crackled through Conan's earpiece before the signal abruptly died. Gin had discovered and crushed both the tracking device and the hidden microphone.
However, Conan had heard enough. Before the feed cut out, Gin's cold voice had revealed a critical piece of information. A codenamed Black Organization operative known as Pisco was scheduled to assassinate a target at a memorial service being held today at the Haido City Hotel. Worse, Gin had casually mentioned the potential use of 'that drug'.
The implication hung heavy in the air. APTX 4869.
With the tracker destroyed and their lead vanishing, Conan made a split-second decision. They were going to the Haido City Hotel. He had to thwart the assassination.
Initially, seeing the sheer terror gripping Haibara's features, Conan had intended to leave her behind in the safety of Dr. Agasa's Beetle. He did not want to drag her back into the nightmare she had barely escaped. But Haibara refused. She knew Pisco. She knew the terrifying reality of the drug they planned to use. Swallowing her paralyzing fear, she insisted on following Conan into the lion's den.
The grand ballroom of the Haido City Hotel was draped in somber elegance. Subdued lighting reflected off crystal chandeliers, casting long shadows over the gathered elite.
"So this is a memorial service for a famous movie star. Quite the gathering of celebrities and high society."
"Mr. Alberich, have you never attended an event like this before?" Chris Vineyard asked, a polite, perfectly practiced smile resting on her lips. She held a slender glass of wine, turning her attention to the man standing beside her who had just let out a quiet sigh.
Standing next to the disguised Vermouth was a representative of the Ragnvindr Clan, the powerful faction currently negotiating a cooperative alliance with the Black Organization.
He had only arrived in Japan that morning. Upon receiving the notification, Cointreau had immediately contacted Vermouth, assigning her the task of handling the VIP's reception. Vermouth had initially tried to decline the sudden babysitting duty, citing her own critical mission scheduled for that very evening.
Unexpectedly, upon hearing about the assassination plot, this 'Mr. Alberich' had insisted on tagging along. He claimed he wanted to personally observe the operation to assess the true strength and competence of their new partners. Given that the Boss himself seemed to hold this man in unusually high regard, Vermouth had no choice but to swallow her annoyance and escort him to the memorial service.
Taking a subtle sip of her wine, Vermouth observed him from the corner of her eye. The very first time she laid eyes on Mr. Alberich, her immediate thought was that he looked like a pirate fresh out of the Caribbean.
His striking, dark blue hair was tied back into a casual ponytail that rested against his shoulder. His dark complexion easily rivaled Bourbon's, and a dark eyepatch covered his right eye. She had no idea if he actually suffered from a visual impairment or if it was merely an eccentric fashion choice. Regardless, he lacked the stiff, suffocating arrogance typical of old-money nobility.
In fact, the moment she picked him up, Vermouth had genuinely wondered if she had intercepted the wrong man.
Kaeya paused, letting his single visible eye sweep over the crowded room before offering a smooth, charming smile. "Miss Chris, please, just call me Kaeya. Very few people actually address me by my surname. I almost did not realize you were speaking to me just now. As for occasions like this... usually, it is that boring fellow Diluc who handles the tedious social gatherings."
Diluc Ragnvindr. Vermouth had done her homework. He was the current head of the Ragnvindr Clan, and technically, Kaeya's adopted older brother.
Judging by the casual, almost dismissive tone Kaeya used, Vermouth mentally noted that the relationship between the two brothers was likely strained.
"By the way, who exactly is your target today?" Kaeya asked, his tone light, as if inquiring about the catering rather than a murder.
Vermouth saw no reason to hide it. Even if he knew the target, he was entirely ignorant of the actual execution plan., she was tasked with remaining by his side until the operation commenced, ensuring he would have zero opportunity to interfere.
"Ah. It is that politician over there. The one currently under heavy suspicion of accepting massive bribes—Shigehiko Nomiguchi." Vermouth did not point, merely shifting her gaze toward a nervous-looking, balding man sweating under the ballroom lights.
"Oh?" Kaeya's lips curved upward. "I shall watch with great anticipation."
Just as he spoke, a flash of movement caught Kaeya's eye. Two small children—a boy in a blue suit and a girl with reddish-brown hair—were weaving quickly through the forest of adult legs, their expressions far too serious for their age.
Kaeya blinked, mildly surprised, and turned back to Vermouth. "Speaking of which, do children normally attend memorial services here? If I had known we could bring kids along, I would have brought Klee with me. To be completely honest, leaving her behind makes me a little worried."
He stroked his chin thoughtfully. Lisa was supposed to be keeping an eye on Klee back at their temporary base, but this was not Mondstadt. If Klee managed to slip away and caused her usual brand of explosive trouble without proper supervision, smoothing things over with the local authorities would be a massive headache.
As Kaeya pondered the potential property damage, his gaze drifted back to the dangerous, codenamed assassin standing beside him.
Suddenly, a brilliant, highly amusing idea struck him.
If Klee did happen to cause a disaster, he could simply ask these Black Organization members to clean up the mess. After all, they were on the verge of a formal partnership. Dealing with a minor, fiery mishap caused by a partner's child should be absolute child's play for such a long-established, terrifyingly powerful criminal syndicate. Right?
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