Ch. 171..180

Chapter 171 - 171: My Wish? To Conquer the World!

Being pulled by the hand, weaving through a crowd—

Even before losing her memory, this probably wasn't something Ran would've done very often.

But now? It felt... oddly wonderful.

She glanced at Hayashi Yoshiki's back as he led the way. Just catching a glimpse of his profile, she could tell—he looked happy.

"Brother Yoshiki..."

"What is it?"

"You seem really happy."

"Ah."

Yoshiki turned to her with a wide smile.

"I've actually always wanted to do something like this."

He meant ditching fans and running away.

Ran understood the implication... but still looked worried.

Even without her memories, she had a sense that this sort of behavior—especially for a public figure—might come across as irresponsible. Maybe even arrogant.

"Is it really okay to just run like that?"

"It's fine. No one snapped a photo anyway."

Yoshiki gave her hand a gentle squeeze, pulling her along.

"Besides... I couldn't leave you behind, Ran."

She didn't reply.

But she quickened her pace, matching his.

Under the confused stares of some fans, the two of them ran deeper into the park. Once they were confident they had escaped, Yoshiki finally slowed down.

"We lost them. And hey, there's a new ride up ahead—want to try it?"

Before Ran could even process the question, Yoshiki had already taken a step toward the left-side attraction.

He still gave her the choice, though.

She nodded instinctively.

That's how they ended up on the pirate ship.

"This thing swings really high..."

"It's making me a little nervous..."

"You'll be fine, Yoshiki."

Wait... could it be that he was scared of heights but was too embarrassed to admit it?

That thought popped into Ran's mind just as the pirate ship began to move.

The ride tilted past 90 degrees as it swung, plunging and rising again in huge arcs. It was terrifying for anyone with acrophobia.

During the ride, Ran kept stealing glances at Yoshiki.

He wasn't visibly panicked, but he definitely wasn't at ease either…

After they got off, she asked gently:

"Brother Yoshiki, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Hard to tell if he was forcing it or being honest.

Ran decided to watch him a bit more closely.

Meanwhile, Yoshiki had an unrelated, intrusive thought:

An amusement park would be a great place to stage a murder.

Heart attacks on thrill rides. Equipment failure. Accidental falls. All completely plausible.

But he let the thought pass.

They continued trying out other attractions: bumper cars, sled slides, rafting boats...

The only one Yoshiki refused?

The spinning teacups.

He watched a little girl inside spinning her wheel like a maniac until she was just a blur.

"Feels like it would scramble my brain evenly..."

"No way!" Ran had said, pouting slightly.

Still, Yoshiki passed on that one.

During a break, Ran rested on a bench while Yoshiki went to buy cold drinks.

He returned with two ice creams, handing one to her.

"Here. Finally fulfilling our ice cream promise."

"Huh?"

"September 27th, last year. I said I'd treat you to ice cream."

"Really?"

Ran looked down at the cone in her hand, surprised.

"I don't remember..."

"That's fine. When you do, just give me the smile you were supposed to give me today."

He took a seat beside her with his own cone.

In front of them was a picture-perfect view of a pastel-colored castle surrounded by flowers. Tourists gathered for photos.

"I'm curious what you're thinking right now, Ran."

She tilted her head, waiting for him to go on.

"Usually, people's thoughts are shaped by personality—formed from their memories and environment. But you don't have those right now. So in this moment, your thoughts are probably the most purely you they've ever been."

"What are you feeling? What do you want? What's your wish?"

Ran looked down at her cone, softening.

"I... haven't thought that deeply about it."

"No?"

"Mm."

Her eyes were calm—not melancholy, just soft.

"But if I had to say... I just want to see everyone happy."

"..."

"Whether it's Mom, Dad, Sonoko, Conan... or you, Yoshiki-nii. If everyone's smiling, I feel fulfilled."

She flushed slightly and ducked her head, embarrassed.

So simple. So earnest.

So unbearably endearing.

Even Yoshiki, who had expected a sweet answer, hadn't been prepared for this level of selflessness.

She had no memories. No identity to fall back on.

And yet she still thought only of others.

Angel...

There was nothing wrong with what Vermouth had called her.

"So what about you, Brother Yoshiki?" Ran asked, looking up."Do you have a wish?"

"Yeah. I do."

"What is it?"

"To conquer the world... and make every restaurant serve food as good as McDonald's."

"What!?"

"Hahaha."

"Yoshiki-nii just got so real all of a sudden."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... I haven't gotten all my memories back, but until now, you always felt so far away. Like someone mysterious. Distant. Even though you're here with us, I never felt like I really understood you."

She took a bite of her cone, smiling.

"But now I know you're a fan-dodger. That you love McDonald's. That maybe you're afraid of heights..."

"There's ice cream on your nose."

"Eh—!"

She scrambled to grab a tissue and wipe it.

...There was nothing there.

She blinked, realizing she'd been tricked. Looking up, she saw Yoshiki standing, smiling.

"How about we try the Ferris wheel and find out?"

 

Chapter 172 - 172: Hayashi Yoshiki — “I Won Twice”

As evening fell, some of the rides in Dorobika Park began lighting up early.

Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, the Ferris wheel rotated slowly in the corner of the park, its soft, colorful lights contrasting starkly with the bustle of the city's evening rush hour.

There were still a fair number of people riding the Ferris wheel.

Among them were Hayashi Yoshiki and Ran.

As their cabin neared the highest point, Ran, seated by the window, stared out at the view and sighed softly:

"The sunset is so beautiful..."

"Yeah, it's really nice."

"So... you're not afraid of heights after all, are you?"

She glanced at Yoshiki, lounging opposite her without the faintest sign of tension. His relaxed posture made her laugh.

"Fear of heights is... relative," he replied. "If the cabin door suddenly fell off, I'd probably panic."

"That's a pretty extreme scenario!"

"How reliable is your impression of me, exactly?"

"Hehe..."

Ran chuckled.

Seeing how cheerful and bright she'd become after spending the whole day playing, Yoshiki couldn't help smiling.

"Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah. I had a great time."

She nodded, then looked at him seriously.

"Thank you, Brother Yoshiki."

"Hm?"

"You came here today because my mom asked you to, didn't you?"

Yoshiki paused for a moment.

"I guessed as much," Ran added, narrowing her eyes in a knowing smile. "She mentioned the amusement park just yesterday. Then today, you brought me here and said it was your first time too. I started wondering if you even like amusement parks."

"It's not that I dislike them," he said with a shrug. "I just never had anyone to go with. Coming to a place like this alone would be... kinda depressing, right?"

That startled her.

He... couldn't find anyone to go with?

She looked at him anew, but he was already continuing:

"Anyway, yes—Aunt Eri asked me to bring you here today. As payment for the 'assignment,' she promised to cook something extravagant."

"..."

"What did you think of her cooking last night, Ran?"

"Well—"

Just remembering it made her wince. Her usual gentle expression twisted into something uneasy.

Yoshiki laughed.

"Aunt Eri just texted to ask what time we'll be back. I have a feeling she's planning some kind of surprise... so, want to eat out instead?"

Ran hesitated.

On one hand, her mother was probably putting in the effort—how could she let her down?

On the other hand… the trauma of that meal still lingered.

"Please, Ran? I'll treat you to another ice cream."

"...Alright."

She sighed. It wasn't that she was dying for ice cream. She just didn't want to survive two of her mother's meals in a row.

I feel like such a bad daughter...

Still, curiosity poked at her.

"But... didn't Mom pack food for you last night?"

"Uncle Kogoro and Conan's idea, right?"

"Yeah..."

"I dodged it."

Yoshiki raised his left hand with a smirk.

"Yeah."

The Ferris wheel began its slow descent.

Fiery clouds blazed above the orange horizon.

Against that brilliant backdrop, Ran glanced at Yoshiki's profile again—and somehow, his smile felt incredibly genuine.

"Do you know what this means?" he asked, holding up two fingers in a "V."

"Peace sign means 'yeah'… I still remember that."

"Nope. It means I won twice."

It took her a moment.

Then she burst out laughing.

"Brother Yoshiki... you're too much!"

The distance she once felt between them quietly dissolved.

As their cabin reached the platform, Yoshiki stepped out first, then turned and offered his hand to Ran, helping her down gently.

They walked toward the nearby crowd where staff members were taking photos for visitors.

"Okay~ Everyone smiles!"

"1, 2, 3—click!"

Just then, Ran tugged gently at the sleeve of Yoshiki's shirt.

"Brother Yoshiki."

"Yeah?"

"Um… do you want to take a picture together?"

She realized suddenly—there were no photos of Yoshiki in the family albums back home.

And yet… he was just as important to her as her parents, Sonoko, or Conan.

"Sure. Let's go."

He smiled gently.

Her eyes lit up as she led him toward the cameraman.

"Excuse me, could you take a picture of us?"

"Of course! Are you a couple? Then I'll give you two bonus shots!"

"Eh—"

"We'll leave it to you," Yoshiki replied smoothly before Ran could react.

So they took a few photos under the Ferris wheel—though their poses remained modest.

The closest one had Ran holding onto Yoshiki's arm with both hands, leaning into him slightly.

After thanking the photographer, they continued walking.

"Any rides you want to do again?"

"Hmm… I think I'm good."

"Then shall we eat?"

"Yes."

They'd been at the park since morning, and they'd covered everything.

Together, they headed for the exit.

Later That Night — 8:03 PM, Mōri Detective Agency

"What!? Ran-san and Yoshiki-san went to Dorobika Park together!?"

"And they're not coming home for dinner!?"

Conan and Kogorō Mōri, seated at opposite ends of the dining table, both shot up and slammed their hands down.

Eri Kisaki, having just finished her work, entered the room calmly and shut them down with a sharp glare:

"Sit. Down."

"But how are we supposed to finish all this food!?"

"Too late. They already had dinner outside. They'll be back soon."

Eri looked disappointed herself. If she'd known, she wouldn't have tried to surprise them. She would've just invited them directly.

"Why did Ran go to the park alone with Yoshiki—" Kogorō began.

"You ran off this morning before I could tell you!"

Now, Kogorō was glaring at Conan.

*If he hadn't disappeared this morning, I could've gone with them. Then I wouldn't be stuck eating this. *

Meanwhile, Conan had just come back from chasing down leads all day, only to be yelled at again. He sat there, completely drained—and then, just to twist the knife, Eri handed him a full bowl of rice.

"Eat up, Conan. Auntie made lots of food tonight."

 

 

Chapter 173 - 173: Isn't That Cointreau’s Psychiatrist?!

"The suspect behind the serial murders of police officers has been arrested!""The youngest elite surgeon, psychotherapist... and criminal!""The truth behind the string of police killings revealed!""A therapist who murdered to cover up his past."

In a dimly lit room somewhere in Osaka—

Stacks of newspapers lay before Gin, each one plastered with headlines about the now-exposed police murder case. The television was tuned to the same story, the volume low but steady.

"According to the suspect's confession, Fudo Kyousuke—""—he murdered a fellow doctor with whom he had a personal grudge a year ago and staged it as a suicide. Upon learning the MPD would reopen the case, he orchestrated a string of police officer murders, hoping to shift suspicion to another target and prevent the truth from coming out."

Silence.

Gin lit a cigarette, inhaling quietly.

Beside him, Vodka squinted at the news and frowned.

"Fudo Kyousuke... wait, isn't that...?"

"Cointreau's psychiatrist," Gin replied flatly.

"Ah, right—that guy!"

The moment the realization hit, Vodka fell silent again.

Now suddenly wary, he glanced back at the papers—though the articles focused on Fudo's crimes, the words Cointreau and murder jumped out at him between the lines.

"This has to be Cointreau again, doesn't it?"

"You think this guy just randomly snapped?" Gin sneered.

Kill a colleague, then start murdering cops to cover it up?

No—too ridiculous.

To Gin, the answer was obvious: Fudo had been manipulated—or worse, used—by Cointreau. And the fact that Hayashi Yoshiki became a celebrated detective for "solving" the case? It reeked of familiarity.

Vodka typed rapidly at the keyboard, pulling up the timeline of Fudo's crimes.

Gin's eyes narrowed.

The first officer was killed exactly one month after Gin had last assigned a task to Hayashi Yoshiki.

"Figures."

So that half-month stretch when the Tokyo police went on high alert—when the increased patrols interfered with Gin's operations? That had been Cointreau's fault.

All just because he was bored?

"..."

Gin frowned deeply.

It wasn't the first time he noticed that Yoshiki's actions occasionally had ripple effects on the organization, even if unintentionally.

Should I tell him myself to try to make the scene and impact as small as possible when killing people next time

But that would contradict what Gin had once told him—

"Only the organization can let you use your full potential."

...Would he really have to eat his own words?

Gin remained silent.

Seeing his brother deep in thought, Vodka didn't speak. But internally, he was reeling.

Cointreau's dangerous. Killing people was one thing... but even a psychiatrist?

Should I be careful around him too...? What if he controls me one day just by talking...?

His mind buzzed.

Then, the door creaked open.

Vermouth strolled in with a smile, her high heels clicking softly behind her. Behind her was Calvados, laden with shopping bags like a walking luggage rack.

"Ugh, the mood's so gloomy the moment I walk in. Any word from Bourbon yet?"

"You trying to draw attention?" Gin glared at her coldly.

Vermouth simply laughed and sauntered over.

"Well, blame all these boring assignments lately... Oh? Didn't expect you to be reading newspapers like an old man."

"If you're bored, go help Bourbon infiltrate the other side's base." Gin's voice cut like ice.

The target base was in Osaka's port district.

Their plan had been to assassinate a mid-level enemy leader, then send Bourbon in disguised as him. The elimination had already been executed—Bourbon was inside.

But still no word.

Vermouth offered a sly smile and picked up one of the papers.

Reading the news wasn't unusual for Gin, but scanning five or six papers at once? That only happened when something truly got his attention.

Behind her, Calvados staggered over to the couch and dumped the bags. Though he adored Vermouth, he wouldn't dare provoke Gin. He awkwardly walked over to Cohen, who sat silently flipping through a novel.

"You... read novels?"

"Yeah."

Cohen nodded and patted the book.

"This one's good. I like it a lot."

"Huh..."

Just as Calvados was about to ask more, Gin's voice cut in:

"Cohen. Call Chianti and Calvados. Get ready for training."

The timing felt odd.

But Cohen stood without a word and headed out.

Gin wasn't about to risk revealing anything about Hayashi Yoshiki. His identity had to remain classified—even from allies. And with Vermouth nearby, that caution doubled. She might have heard of "Cointreau," but his real background, his reach... even Gin wasn't sure how much she knew.

Vermouth flipped through the paper casually.

A psychiatrist who killed multiple officers... And that's what Gin's fixated on?

Something didn't add up.

Gin didn't respond.

He rose from his seat, and Vodka followed silently.

Vermouth put down the paper, crossed her legs, and pulled out her phone. Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

She texted Calvados.

"Did you catch the title of the book Cohen was reading?"

Seconds later, the reply came:

"Didn't see it clearly. Looked like a mystery novel?"

"Should I ask him again?"

"Would you? Thanks, Calvados ❤️"

A bit paranoid, perhaps—but still...

Gin calling Cohen away right after he mentioned the novel? He never micromanaged his agents' reading habits. Unless...

Something about that book—or its author—was worth hiding.

And Vermouth was going to find out.

 

 

Chapter 174 - 174: Killer Website, Hayashi Yoshiki’s Subsequent Thoughts

Gin: "The mission objective has been sent to your email."

That afternoon, Hayashi Yoshiki received a message from Gin.

He didn't check it right away.

Instead, he stayed focused on the screen in front of him—the Winery's intranet.

Now that he carried the codename Cointreau, his internal access privileges had been upgraded, granting him entry into more secure corners of the organization's digital world.

There, he found:

Identity files of low-level operatives

Internal bounty lists

Classified briefings and restricted notices

…But even these, he realized, were merely surface-level.

From what Tequila had once told him, the real intelligence network—used by the intel division—was built on an entirely different intranet. One with far deeper access and significantly more potent information.

Yoshiki narrowed his eyes, noting down a few names and faces.

Then, he glanced over and asked:

"Any updates yet?"

"I'm sorry, sir... nothing so far."

The reply came from Seiran Hoshi, kneeling beneath the office desk, her tone calm and composed as she resumed her current "task."

"As assassins, we don't actually communicate directly with the platform," she continued. "We simply browse its task board, select what we want, and the moment it's done, the client confirms and the payment is transferred automatically."

"I see."

Yoshiki leaned back slightly.

"Then tell me this—who's the top-ranked killer on the platform you use?"

"Top killer...?" she echoed. "That would probably be 'Spider.'"

"Anyone else worth mentioning?"

"Spider's sort of a lone wolf—only one with a 100% success rate and ridiculous efficiency. Other than him... maybe a killer known as 'Rose.' She's worked with the Organization a lot over the past couple of years. Supposedly excellent at disguise."

Not all "zoo" operatives went by animal codenames. Some—like Spider and Scorpion—weren't official members, but freelancers granted honorary titles. Whether to use them publicly was up to the killer.

"There were one or two others as skilled as Spider once," Seiran Hoshi added. "But I heard they struck some deal with the platform. Their identities were erased or hidden completely."

Yoshiki's expression didn't change, but his mind churned.

So... the best of the best had been quietly absorbed by the platform?

That confirmed one of his theories—those killers had been recruited. Folded into the system, hidden from public boards. Probably now agents or handlers.

He opened another site.

"Welcome back, Scorpion."

A black window flashed across his screen before vanishing. Then the homepage loaded—cluttered with arms deals, contract hits, and encrypted forums.

Another darknet marketplace.

Curiously, he found Gin, Vodka, and Tequila listed here—photos, aliases, active regions. Gin alone had a $6 million bounty.

Yoshiki clicked into the forum.

Thread after thread... all about Gin.

"Another failed attempt—every assassin sent in is dead again.""The bounty's now $6 million.""Went from $500k to $6M—all paid in blood.""Would you risk your life for that payday?""Even Scorpion couldn't take him down.""Crocodile might try next..."

He scanned silently.

No usable intel, he thought.

His left hand supported his cheek, the other idly brushing through Seiran Hoshi's hair like a pet.

If only these fools used their real names and profile pics online.

Still, this network—the Zoo—intrigued him.

He knew the leader was obsessed with reclaiming youth, and Hayashi Yoshiki had exactly the bait they wanted: APTX4869.

That opened two doors.

Option One:

Gain access to the Zoo's upper ranks through an influential killer. Let them "discover" the drug's effects through planted evidence or suggestion. In their desperation, they'd move quickly—possibly recklessly. Just like Karasuma Renya did.

Option Two:

Send in an operative disguised as a hitman—someone who could earn enough prestige to be recruited from within.

Not himself, of course. But someone like Shimizu Reiko could play that role well.

Either way, introducing APTX4869 into the Zoo's sphere was bound to stir chaos.

But he'd also need to account for backflow. If the Winery had a spy inside the Zoo and caught wind of the drug's effects... they might deduce that Shiho Miyano escaped the gas chamber not by luck—but by shrinking.

That would be a disaster.

His thoughts spiraled further.

He thought of the AI that would surface in the future—Noah's Ark.

If only I had access to something like that, he mused. I'd unmask all of them with a few keystrokes.

But at present, there is no trace of such a system.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft voice:

"Mr. Hayashi...?"

Yoshiki blinked, then laughed.

"Ah, sorry—I just imagined what Miss Seiran would look like if her face was completely covered in blood."

His smile was dazzling. Disarmingly sweet.

"I bet you'd look cute like that."

Seiran Hoshi's cheeks flushed.

"If... if that's what you want..." she whispered dreamily.

Yoshiki reached over and closed the browser.

But Seiran's eyes watched him closely.

"I'm free until eight tonight," he said with a soft smile.

It was only three.

And at that moment, her eyes glistened.

Just then, he paused—

"Oh no—I forgot to check Gin's email."

He turned the computer back on again.

 

 

Chapter 175 - 175: Welcome Back, Kira

A new name was steadily gaining traction on the killer platform.

The codename? Kira — meaning simply, "killer."

But unlike other newcomers, this one stood out immediately. Kira executed every contract with ruthless efficiency, and with a striking diversity in methods. Completing a hit almost every single day, the mysterious assassin began drawing attention both inside and outside the platform.

"Only one minute left?"

"Understood, Mr. Hayashi."

Early morning on a quiet mountain road, Shimizu Reiko arrived at the designated location.

It was a sharp, winding stretch nestled between heavy banyan trees lining both sides of the road. Following Hayashi Yoshiki's instructions, she leveled the crossbow in her hands and aimed at a thick branch on the left.

Thwack!

The arrow punched into the tree.

Without pause, she reloaded and fired again—this time into the banyan on the opposite side.

A nearly invisible line of kite string, shimmering faintly under the moonlight, now stretched tightly across the asphalt.

In the distance, the muffled growl of a motorcycle engine echoed.

As instructed, Reiko Shimizu pulled the string taut with a custom rig, then stepped aside and waited.

The motorcycle roared closer.

Its headlight swept over the road like a blade of white. Yuta Yamagata, alone on his bike, saw only a straightaway ahead—and gunned the throttle.

Boom-BOOM!

The engine screamed.

Then—confusion. There was something reflective ahead in the beam of his high beams. It shimmered—but he had no time to think.

In two seconds, he was already dead.

The kite string severed his neck cleanly.

His head launched skyward, separating from his body in a geyser of blood. Still gripping the handlebars, his corpse continued riding down the slope for hundreds of meters before finally collapsing in a heap.

His head bounced and rolled across the mountain road.

Seconds later, Reiko Shimizu emerged from cover, calmly severed the wire, snapped a photo of the scene, and vanished into the darkness.

"Mission complete."

She climbed into the passenger seat of a nearby black car.

"Nice work." Seiran Hoshi shifted gears and pulled away.

Her job was clean up and exfiltration—any residual traces of the job, she would handle. As an internationally wanted assassin whose identity had never been revealed, Seiran Hoshi had her own set of specialties.

"Wonder if Mr. Hayashi has a reward planned for you?" she said casually.

Even while driving, she looked immaculate—every hair and lash in place, makeup perfect.

Reiko Shimizu giggled and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror.

"I got a message reply from him after midnight," she said, brushing the crossbow affectionately. "But if there's a reward, it should go to you, Senior. We're teammates, right?"

"Of course," Seiran Hoshi smiled, eyes drifting back to the road.

Hayashi Yoshiki didn't need Shimizu Reiko's confirmation.

The name had been written in the Death Note. The moment the task was accepted, the outcome had been secured.

Still, he logged in using Reiko's credentials.

"Welcome back, Kira."

That familiar black screen flickered momentarily, then vanished.

He marked the contract as complete.

The platform verified the evidence, and within minutes, the bounty money was transferred into the account.

Then Yoshiki moved on—scrolling through potential new targets.

To make contact with the Zoo's upper management, he needed to elevate Kira to the same status as legends like Spider—a killer so deadly and precise that even the Zoo's boss might reach out personally.

Which meant: no failed missions, no delays, no loose ends.

He noticed Gin's bounty had increased by another $2 million.

Uninterested, he skipped over it and instead accepted a difficult task—one that provided both the name and photo of the next target. Then he logged off.

Just then, his phone rang.

Caller ID: Kisaki Eri.

"Yoshiki!""Ran—Ran's memory is back!"Her voice trembled with joy.

Yoshiki's eyes lit with genuine warmth.

"That's wonderful. Should I come to see her now, Aunt Eri?"

Earlier that evening...

Ran, dressed in pajamas and ready for bed, was sitting by her desk organizing photographs.

Since losing her memory, her friends and family had flooded her with pictures—old prints, new snapshots, freshly developed rolls—all tucked neatly into albums.

Her fingers lingered on a few of them.

I don't remember these moments...But they make me feel... warm.

Then her eyes settled on one set in particular.

It was the group of photos from her trip to Dorobika Paradise—with Hayashi Yoshiki.

Unlike the rest, these were post-amnesia, filled with laughter she did remember. Smiles, cotton candy, Ferris wheel silhouettes at sunset.

They were the only pictures she felt connected to.

She carefully placed them on the final page of the album.

Then—suddenly—her vision blurred.

A wave of dizziness swept over her. She clutched her temples, eyes fluttering. Something inside her cracked open.

Images flooded in.

Her mother, poisoned, lying in a hospital bed

Yoshiki, standing beside her with blood on his jacket

An ice cream cone dropped to the ground...

His quiet voice said, "Let's find another chance to get one."

Ran's memory returned like a tidal wave.

She stared down at the photograph again, trembling.

"When I remember it... give me the knowing smile you should have now."

Those were his words.

And now, she understood exactly what they meant.

 

 

Chapter 176 - 176: "Send it to Cointreau"

"Brother, there's news from Bourbon!"

"What do you mean?"

"He said he can't sabotage the place. It's too heavily guarded, and he can't handle it alone. But he found out there might be important servers at the center of the eleventh floor."

"The center of the eleventh floor?"

Inside a hidden room in Osaka, Gin frowned.

Spread out before him were photos of a modern office building—the supposed base of the hostile organization. On the surface, it looked nothing like a fortress.

"I need more precise intel."

Gin grabbed the headset from Vodka.

"This kind of vague information is useless to me."

"You're so demanding." Bourbon's voice crackled through the earpiece. "I'm risking my life here. You're lounging around in a safehouse—of course, you're calm."

"Fine… I can't confirm it 100%, but that server likely contains their assassination platform data. If you can stir up a big enough distraction, I might be able to steal something from it."

Gin went silent.

He weighed the value of such a move. He was curious about the opposing organization's database—but if the risk outweighed the gain, it wasn't worth it. Maybe blowing up the entire floor was a better option.

He ended the call with Bourbon abruptly.

"How far along is the intel gathering on their personnel?"

"Only a few profiles so far, Aniki." Vodka answered honestly.

They hadn't put all their trust in Bourbon. The organization was also collecting data through its own channels.

"Keep going. Then send the data and maps to Cointreau for review."

"Send it to Cointreau?"

Vodka's surprise was natural.

Gin didn't answer.

After the last incident, Gin had to admit that Hayashi Yoshiki's talents might be useful—for planning escapes or laying traps... it was possible Cointreau could provide insight.

Vermouth, lounging nearby, elegantly flicked ash from her cigarette.

She smiled.

Meanwhile, in Tokyo, the emotional atmosphere was very different.

After Ran Mouri regained her memory, the most excited person—unsurprisingly—was Sonoko Suzuki.

Being her usual loud and expressive self, Sonoko sobbed and wailed:

"Unforgivable! You actually went to Dorobika Park alone with Hayashi-nii while you were amnesiac!?"

"Ran!!!"

"Agh! Maybe I should lose my memory once too!"

She clung to Ran and cried, completely lacking any teenage girl's dignity. Ran could only raise her hands in defeat, smiling awkwardly.

Watching from the side, Haibara Ai quietly glanced at Hayashi Yoshiki, who was standing with his usual gentle smile.

He noticed.

"What's wrong? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I was just wondering... are you happy?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason."

Haibara's voice was as calm as ever.

But as she looked at Ran—surrounded by caring parents, close friends, and even a doting "brother"—Ai couldn't help feeling a tinge of envy.

She wouldn't complain. But deep down, she wished for a moment like this.

Yoshiki gently reached out and patted her head.

"What is it?"

"I'll say it again. With a cute face like this..."

He gently shaped her expression with two fingers into a smile but didn't finish the sentence.

Haibara let him.

Only in front of Yoshiki would she allow this much. When he withdrew his hand, she went back to being stoic.

"It's pointless."

"Good news though—Gin and the others aren't in Tokyo right now. So you're safer than usual."

"...How do you know?"

Hearing that name, Haibara instantly tensed.

"Because I'm heading to Osaka."

Yoshiki smiled faintly.

Osaka…

Haibara made a mental note.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Probably not."

"...Are you inviting me along?"

"Would you like to come?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

He grinned playfully. She didn't budge.

Yoshiki poked her side gently.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just confirming that you're ticklish."

Nearby, Sonoko had recovered from her crying fit and was once again bursting with energy.

"Let's celebrate Ran getting her memory back—let's go to the beach!"

"The beach...?"

"Hayashi-nii, you'll come too, right?"

Yoshiki hesitated.

"If it's soon... I might not be able to. I have to head to Gunma Prefecture."

"Ehhh~~"

"Sorry. A case came in this morning."

He smiled apologetically.

Haibara tilted her head. Didn't he just say he was going to Osaka?

She said nothing.

Yoshiki wasn't lying entirely—he was just playing safe.

He had already arranged for Asami to go to Gunma on his behalf, to gather receipts, take photos, and even buy souvenirs. A minor detail, but every layer of cover helped.

"You're not coming…" Sonoko deflated.

"So how long will you be in Gunma, Hayashi-nii?" Ran asked.

"Not sure. Maybe ten days. Maybe two weeks."

"Well, summer's long. We'll wait for you to come back before we go."

"Yup!"

Sonoko's mood perked up again.

Yoshiki looked at Ran's warm smile. He blinked—just a little surprised—but then smiled back.

"Then we'll talk about it when I return."

 

Chapter 177 - 177: Cohen is the One Who's Really Sick

"Here it is, bro!"

Didi!!

16:17 PM, outside Osaka Station

When Hayashi Yoshiki stepped out of the station with only a small piece of luggage, he immediately spotted Tequila pulling up in a black Hummer, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Yoshiki walked over.

"That's all you're bringing?"

Tequila had half a mind to help with luggage, but seeing the minimal bag in Yoshiki's hand, he waved him off and pointed with his thumb. "Hurry up and get in!"

"Isn't it risky for you to show up at the station with the situation being what it is?"

Yoshiki wore a mask and a hat. Even with most of his face covered, his fair skin and composed demeanor gave away his identity to those who knew him.

"They're just a bunch of spineless assassins. Don't worry about 'em!"

Tequila chuckled in his deep voice. "Once we're in Kansai, it's our turf. I'll take you to get some real food and good drinks."

"And Gin has no objections?"

"What could he say?"

The reply came from Chianti, sitting in the passenger seat.

The tattooed sharpshooter, with her signature butterfly markings, blew a bubble of gum and then sucked it back into her mouth before turning around. "Wearing a mask in this heat? Come on, take it off already!"

Yoshiki smiled and complied, removing both his mask and hat.

Chianti whistled.

There were four people in the vehicle: Chianti and Tequila up front; Cohen and Yoshiki in the back. Gin and Vodka were notably absent.

Cohen, anticipating Yoshiki's silent question, said: "Gin and Vodka aren't available right now, but they might show up later. Oh, and Gin told me to warn you about a woman in the Organization codenamed Vermouth."

"...Vermouth?" Yoshiki tilted his head.

"She's just a pretentious freak," Chianti growled. "Intelligence team. Different division. She's trained Calvados like some lapdog—it's disgusting."

"Calvados is good," Cohen interjected. "But he lacks maturity."

"Ha! He wouldn't even go out for drinks with us," Tequila scoffed.

"Why not ask Gin to join you?" Chianti teased.

"Are you kidding?"

"Hah! Didn't think so!" Chianti laughed loudly.

Tequila rolled his eyes. "Ask Gin out? I want to live, thanks."

Yoshiki pulled a notebook and pen from inside his jacket.

Though unexpected, the fact that Tequila and company came to pick him up was useful. Since Tequila had a bounty on the assassination platform, Yoshiki casually jotted down the meeting time and place as a precaution. It was better to keep a log to prevent walking into any "friendly fire."

Of course, nothing was absolute. The Death Note couldn't rewrite cause and effect if he walked straight into a bullet.

"You writing something?" Cohen noticed.

"Just a little inspiration. Notes for future essays," Yoshiki said lightly.

"Then... could you put me in one of your next books?"

Cohen, ever the stoic, blushed slightly. He looked away, visibly embarrassed.

"But I've already used your name, Cohen."

"I can change it."

"..."

"I'll come up with something. Just put me in."

Yoshiki paused, brows lifting.

Gin thinks I'm the crazy one, but Cohen—he's the truly unwell one.

Chianti, too, looked baffled.

"Cohen, you're seriously messed up!"

"You don't understand, Chianti."

"There it is again!" she snapped. Cohen's calm replies always seemed to push her buttons.

"So what name are you going to change to, Cohen?"

"I'll think about it."

"Let me know when you decide."

"Mm."

Though his face remained stone-cold, a subtle smile tugged at the corner of Cohen's mouth—reflected faintly in the car window. He already knew what name he wanted. But to avoid seeming too eager, he'd wait two days before telling Cointreau.

"I heard some new wine names. Are those our allies in this operation?"

"Yep," Tequila said easily. "Looks like the top brass are treating this mission seriously. Besides Calvados and Vermouth, there's Ireland, and some guy named Bourbon I haven't met yet."

He wasn't being careless—Gin hadn't instructed them to keep these names from Yoshiki. Besides, most of them only knew vague outlines anyway.

Yoshiki began connecting dots.

Bourbon, who had recently taken leave, had never shown up to meet Tequila. That meant Toru Amuro was probably already deployed.

If Intelligence was working, and even Calvados and Ireland were summoned, the mission scale must be considerable. This was still in the recon phase.

Vermouth wasn't traveling with Bourbon, so she was likely support staff. Perhaps she was aiding his disguise and cover.

...So they really were shaken.

Yoshiki thought back to how he had used the Death Note to provoke Karasuma Renya.

Seeing the ripples it caused at the core of the Organization, he smiled.

Didi~

Tequila picked up his phone.

"Hello? ...Ah, got it. Yeah, we got him. Eight o'clock? Sure."

He hung up.

"Gin and Vodka will be out after eight. We'll meet up then."

No one in the car objected.

 

Chapter 178 - 178: Kira and Cointreau

Gin is a very punctual person. When he says eight o'clock, it is eight o'clock.

As usual, he only had Vodka with him.

"Cointreau..."

Following his older brother into the pub, Vodka greeted Hayashi Yoshiki.

His voice was a few notches lower than usual.

"Good evening, Mr. Vodka,"Hayashi Yoshiki still looked polite.

Gin ignored him and sat down with his hands in his pockets.

"You've read all the information—how confident are you?" he asked directly.

"If I were given more detailed intel and a chance to get familiar with the environment, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Good."Gin was very satisfied with that answer.

He took out a cigarette and lit it.

Yoshiki still had a smile on his face. He wiped his hands carefully with a hot towel and then looked at the dish names on the menu in front of him.

"Give me a glass of plum wine first, and then a bowl of stewed pork in clear broth."

"OK."The chef began to prepare the order.

The small cup of plum wine served first was chilled, with a plum soaking inside. It was cool, sweet, and sour with a gentle aroma—quite appetizing.

"So when are we gonna take action? I'm getting impatient waiting. Gulp, gulp—Ah, so refreshing!!"

Chianti picked up her beer and chugged it in one go. When she put down the glass, she let out a deep sigh like a middle-aged man.

She looked exactly like Kogoro Mouri at that moment.

Just as Yoshiki's mind briefly overlapped Chianti's image with Kogoro's, she suddenly raised her beer glass toward him:

"Cheers, Cointreau!"

"Cheers."He clinked his glass with her and downed the beer.

Although Tequila hadn't intended to drink with him, after seeing Chianti do it, he didn't want to be left out. He also raised his glass and drank with gusto.

Seeing this, Hayashi Yoshiki just smiled and said:

"I thought I'd see some new faces tonight besides you and Mr. Vodka."

"No need to see them."Gin stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray without even looking up.

"Especially the intel unit. They're all obsessed with secrecy, but most of the time they're just a pain. If you want to avoid trouble, it's best not to deal with them."

"Seems like workplace relationships here aren't too healthy," Yoshiki said with a smirk.

Gin snorted coldly as if mocking.

He indeed had a hard time getting along with the intelligence members.

The biggest problems were Bourbon and Vermouth—too self-centered. Bourbon was tolerable, but Vermouth often pretended to obey while doing her own thing... even Rum had friction with Gin sometimes.

Especially since Rum had allowed his subordinate Pinga to provoke Gin openly, trying to replace him. Gin didn't retaliate then, but when the chance came, Pinga was drowned at sea in a trap Gin personally designed.

"Better keep your identity hidden, or some rat in the gutter will out you one day."

True.Yoshiki had no intention of revealing himself in front of Amuro Tooru—and it was unclear how many spies from international agencies might be embedded in the organization.

Yoshiki ate his food quietly.

Gin ate a few bites too—then abruptly stood and left.

Cohen, seated two spots behind Yoshiki, had already had a few cups of sake and looked like he was itching to say something.

"Cointreau, I've thought of a new name."

"Oh?"

"How about this one?"Cohen suggested a name.

It was... a very generic name. Just like him. Low-profile, nearly invisible.

"Sounds good. I'll give it serious thought," said Yoshiki politely as he jotted it down.

Cohen happily drank a few more glasses.

Meanwhile, Chianti found a dish she really liked and immediately ordered three servings. Tequila fetched another beer, toasted Yoshiki, and then joined Vodka for more drinks.

Without Gin, the atmosphere felt surprisingly casual—even friendly.

But the moment Gin returned and sat down, the mood chilled instantly. It was clear: no one liked dining with their boss.

Still, Yoshiki noticed something curious—Gin actually seemed to enjoy good food. He usually subsisted on fast food and energy bars, but if he had the time, he'd indulge in French cuisine, like an old-fashioned aristocrat.

Despite the pleasant setting, the whole group couldn't sit longer than 40 minutes.

Yoshiki put his mask and hat back on.

Instead of riding in Tequila's Hummer, he got into Vodka's car.

"Brother, it looks like your bounty went up again."

Vodka reported this while driving.

"..."

"Those hitmen are already chatting about how much it'll go up next. Some seem really eager to try their luck..."

"Let them come. Useless flies—just buzzing noise."

Gin's eyes turned cold as he checked the forum thread.

The Brewery was, of course, fully aware of the Zoo's bounty lists and had been tracking data from the assassin platform for some time.

"Recently there's this new killer, code name Kira. He's getting famous—sets traps and complete jobs with insane efficiency."

"Traps?"Hayashi Yoshiki perked up from the back seat.

"Yeah. Apparently, Kira kills targets by preparing traps ahead of time. People think he has a team helping him, since he's working across multiple regions. But still—not someone who could compare to you, Cointreau."

"Still... sounds interesting."Yoshiki smiled faintly.

Of course, Kira's methods had to differ from Cointreau's. If both used "accidents" to kill, Gin would suspect him almost immediately.

But Gin didn't seem interested in Kira at all. Looking forward, he simply said:

"Drive toward the 'target'."

"Roger that."

Vodka turned the wheel, heading in the direction Gin indicated.

They weren't going to strike tonight—just to familiarize Cointreau with the surrounding terrain.

 

 

Chapter 179 - 179: Gin Driving an Armed Helicopter

(It's time to start preparing to run.)

Disguised behind a cold, stoic face, Amuro Tooru moved swiftly down the corridor of the building's seventh floor.

The members of that dark organization referred to the facility simply as "the Company."

And indeed, it looked like a regular company on the surface—each floor with its own designated function: general security, logistics, distribution... nothing overtly suspicious at first glance.

But according to the results of Amuro's covert investigation, this company was in fact the operational hub for the Killer Platform in Asia.

He didn't yet know how much intel the Public Security Bureau or the Red Army had on the building—but this was Amuro's first time infiltrating this close to the heart of their infrastructure. And the deeper he dug, the more horrified he became.

The Company wasn't just handling assassinations.

It was also heavily involved in firearms smuggling, illegal immigration, and trafficking of prohibited materials, operating with disturbing efficiency on an international scale.

While Amuro had shared partial intel with Gin and Rum—as his role demanded—he had also, in secret, transmitted key files back to public security.

There seemed to be growing friction between the two organizations…

Amuro didn't know the exact cause, but frankly, it delighted him. When dogs fight, both walk away bloodied. The only thing he hoped for now was mutual destruction—and for Public Security to pick up the pieces afterward.

But all signs pointed to tonight being his final night undercover.

Gin had already messaged him: the operation would commence that evening.

The catch? Amuro hadn't been told the time, the method, or the exit plan.

If he got caught in the crossfire—or worse—he'd have only his own instincts and luck to blame.

How am I going to get out of this?

Though his false identity gave him the status of a mid-to-senior operative within the Company, leaving the premises without authorization was difficult. Worse still, he couldn't tell whether he'd slipped up in recent days.

If anyone had started to grow suspicious of him, things could unravel very fast.

And then—

SIRENS BLARED.

A red emergency light flooded the corridor from above, and a deafening alarm exploded across the building's intercoms.

They've started.

Inside nearby offices, panicked programmers abandoned their computers and ducked behind walls. Security guards reached for the firearms at their waists. Amuro's gaze sharpened. He picked up his pace.

"Enemy breach!"

"Where the hell is Security?!"

"Get to the armory—now!!"

"First floor! They're coming from the first floor!!"

Unlike the corporate rent-a-cops, elite squads—trained soldiers in everything but name—sprang into action. They sprinted toward the armory, suited up, and deployed with precision toward the chaos.

Elsewhere...

Gin sat in the cockpit of a black Apache attack helicopter, a cruel smile curling at the edge of his lips as gunfire rattled over the comms.

The feed from the building's hijacked surveillance system showed Tequila and his team storming through the lower levels, executing targets with ruthless efficiency.

Vermouth had already slipped inside. She moved like a phantom, planting charges and eliminating personnel while disguised—exploiting the disarray.

"Forget the data Bourbon reported on the 11th floor," a voice crackled through Gin's earpiece. "Their defenses are stronger than expected. Tequila and the others won't last long enough to breach that high."

"Then we won't bother."

Gin scoffed.

If stealing the data was too costly—then they'd just destroy it.

He started the engine.

With a roar, the black Apache rose into the air, hugging the shadows of the skyline.

Vodka, sitting beside him, yanked the control lever. The fuselage tilted violently as the chopper accelerated toward the Company's headquarters.

As they closed in, Gin bared his teeth in a vicious grin—and pulled the trigger.

TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!!

The M230 chain gun mounted under the helicopter's nose erupted in flames. Shells of high-explosive rounds tore across the front of the building, shattering glass, pulverizing concrete, slicing through steel beams like wet paper.

Vodka adjusted their elevation and angle of attack.

Spent shell casings rained down onto the asphalt like golden hail.

"This is insane..."

Hayashi Yoshiki was also aboard, seated behind a console filled with open notebooks and monitors. Real-time feeds displayed the assault squads led by Tequila, Ireland, and others.

"Bourbon just reported: one of their top executives is taking the elevator to the 10th floor."

Before he even finished, Vodka turned the helicopter around.

Gunfire lit up the night as chain gun rounds shredded the elevator shaft, slicing through the doors and tearing the unsuspecting executive inside into bloody mist before he could even step out.

Then—

BANG!

A sniper's bullet pinged against the Apache's armored nose. Sparks flew.

Vodka swerved the chopper sharply.

Gin turned toward the direction of the shot and saw a sniper perched high on a nearby building, lining up another round.

TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!!!!

A barrage of counter-fire exploded toward the sniper's perch.

It missed.

Gin didn't care.

After a quick glance at the time, he gave a command:

"Head to the 11th floor."

Vodka angled the Apache again.

Gin reached over to a separate control panel, flipped up a red safety latch, and jammed his thumb down on the launch button.

WHOOSH!!!

Missiles ignited beneath the chopper's stubby wings.

Several rockets shrieked through the air, trailing fire.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!!!

The entire 11th floor erupted in fire.

Shockwaves blew out the glass on the floors above and below.

Even inside the Apache, Hayashi Yoshiki felt the blast rattle his core.

But Gin wasn't finished.

"One more pass."

Vodka adjusted their angle. Gin fired again.

The explosion engulfed the 11th floor, collapsing the level along with several others. Concrete, steel, and fire rained from the sky.

Whatever servers had been on that floor…

They were nothing but ash now.

Gin exhaled slowly, watching the blaze below.

"Don't be stingy with ammo," he said, voice calm and cold."Last five minutes. Prepare for evacuation."

 

 

Chapter 180 - 180: Confrontation

Gunshots, explosions, screeching brakes—

In a blur, a corner of Osaka's port district had turned into the set of a full-blown action film. Amid the rising flames and roar of engines, a heavily armored Hummer burst from the heart of the explosion and tore across the streets toward the highway.

More than a dozen vehicles gave chase, swarming like hornets in pursuit.

This was no minor skirmish.

For once, Zoo's security force had deployed with real intent to kill—bringing out heavy weaponry despite being in the middle of downtown Osaka.

The reason?

The 11th floor, where their critical data was stored, had been completely destroyed.

The higher-ups had given up hope on recovering it—now they only wanted blood.

DADADADADADADADA!!!

Bullets hammered the Hummer's rear fender, sending up showers of sparks.

Noticing a group of enemies lying in wait at the left turn up ahead, Tequila jerked the steering wheel and swerved right instead, cutting hard into a narrow street. The Hummer's massive tires clawed the asphalt, and the pursuing killers lost ground.

In the back seat, Ireland flung open the door, one hand gripping the roof rail, the other lifting a grenade launcher.

With a deep breath, he pulled the trigger.

The explosive shot arced through the air.

BOOM!!!

A fireball erupted behind them. One of the pursuing black sedans was blasted into the air, its frame flipping sideways in slow motion before slamming into the pavement.

But the remaining killers? Still accelerating.

When the Hummer surged up the overpass, a red car broke formation and darted through civilian traffic to close the gap.

And then—

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.

A deafening rotor beat roared up from beneath the viaduct.

A helicopter rose into view.

Its nose leveled just in time with the red sedan. In one breath, the windshield shattered, and a geyser of blood exploded from the driver's seat.

"Ascend."

The red car veered wildly, spinning out of control.

In the helicopter's cabin, Cohen adjusted the scope on his sniper rifle, calm and deliberate.

A second later—

BANG.

Another clean headshot.

As the aircraft climbed higher—dodging the hail of return fire from the streets below—Cohen refocused on the next vehicle in his sights.

On the opposite side, Chianti was doing the same.

BANG.

She dropped another gunman trying to hide behind cover.

But her tone was less composed.

"Tch! Why am I the one covering this bitch!? Shouldn't Calvados be doing this!?"

"Thanks, Chianti~"

From the entrance of the crumbling Company building, Vermouth strolled out, winked toward the sky, and blew her a kiss.

"Screw you! I'm gonna put a bullet in that smug face!"

"Hehe~ By the way, they're bringing out rocket launchers."

"...What!?!"

Almost as if on cue, Chianti spotted a heavy rocket tube aimed her way.

WHOOSH!!!

The chopper veered sharply.

The incoming rocket sliced through the air, narrowly missing them—before erupting into a brilliant fireball that sent the entire helicopter shuddering midair.

Chianti gritted her teeth.

Before she could scream bloody murder, Vermouth was already gone—burning rubber in a black coupe.

Having lost the FBI in car chases more than once, Vermouth's driving skills were terrifying.

And she wasn't done yet.

One hand on the wheel, she reached into her chest, pulled out a remote detonator, and pressed the red button.

BOOOOM!!!

In the rearview mirror, the building behind her ignited—flames tearing through the floors in a violent chain reaction.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!!!!!

Smoke towered into the sky like a volcanic eruption.

Click.

In Vermouth's earpiece, the channel switched.

"Good job," said Gin's cold voice.

"Hmph. I thought those new explosives would pack more punch," Vermouth replied with a lazy smirk.

Her smile faltered.

She noticed several vehicles closing in from multiple directions.

DADADADADADA!!!

Bullets punched through her windows. Vermouth ducked—glass slicing across her shoulder.

"Go east."

"Any reason?"

Click.

No answer. Gin had cut comms.

Meanwhile—aboard the Apache

Vodka was weaving madly through the sky, dodging enemy fire as Gin rained death from the M230 cannon.

In the rear cabin, Hayashi Yoshiki monitored real-time feeds on multiple laptops, his eyes scanning every angle of the battlefield.

"Tequila, turn right at the next junction. You have two minutes tops."

"Got it!" came the gruff reply.

"Chianti, cover Tequila."

"Roger that!"

"Bourbon hasn't reported back."

"Doesn't matter," Gin replied flatly. "If he died in there, that's on him."

There was zero emotion in his voice.

The building had already been torn apart by Gin's bombardment—then obliterated by Vermouth's charges.

Even if Amuro had survived that, the chaos inside made it unlikely.

"Brother! Something's flanking us!"

Vodka yelled, eyes wide.

Gin had already noticed.

Several helicopters had crept in from the sides—unmarked, but clearly hostile.

Three peeled off in other directions, but two closed in fast—one from each flank.

Gunfire erupted from the distance, and the air filled with streaks of tracer rounds.

"They brought helicopters too!?"

Vodka shouted in disbelief but kept the Apache steady, dodging incoming fire.

"Wipe them out." Gin's voice was steel.

The Zoo's helicopters were no match for an Apache.

Their craft was more maneuverable, better armed, and flown by professionals.

And Gin was about to prove it.