Ch. 221..230
Chapter 221 - 221: Let’s Go Eat Ice Cream Later?
Because of the distance, this time the police helicopter arrived before the Black Organization.
The roar of the rotors grew louder as the blue-and-white painted chopper slowly descended. The wind pressure made it difficult for Hayashi Yoshiki and Mōri Ran, standing inside the building, to keep their eyes open.
"No, because of the building's angle, there's no way to lower the ladder to them!"
After trying several methods in vain, the police officers aboard finally gave up.
Upon hearing this, Inspector Megure Jūzō paused before asking,
"What's the distance? Can you throw a parachute over?"
"It should be fine!"
"Then toss it."
Inspector Megure wasn't sure if Yoshiki would actually use the parachute—but it was their only hope.The fire above couldn't be extinguished anytime soon. With Ran and Yoshiki trapped—unable to go up or down—the heavy smoke creeping up made survival until the firefighters' arrival unlikely.
The parachute was thrown into the 45th floor.
Once Yoshiki caught it, the officers in the helicopter breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Then, the chopper veered away.
Now, on the broken connecting bridge on the 45th floor, only Hayashi Yoshiki and Mōri Ran remained.
"Halfway to success," Yoshiki muttered, inspecting the parachute bag."Looks good."
Ran nodded, her gaze fixated on the pack.
"Don't be nervous. Leave it to me," Yoshiki said, smiling. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"You don't have to comfort me like that, Yoshiki-nii."
"..."
"I think you're the one under more pressure right now," she added softly.
Ran pursed her lips. She was clearly nervous, but tried to hide it by putting her hands behind her back and smiling brightly.
"I can't help much, but you've always been amazing, Yoshiki-nii. So I know we'll be fine!"
"You really believe in me that much?"
"Yeah! And even if it doesn't work out… it's okay."
She smiled—a dazzling, courageous smile.
Yoshiki was stunned for a moment, then chuckled.
"Don't say such unlucky things now. I really believe in your luck, Ran."
"Ah!"
Realizing what she'd said, Ran covered her mouth, embarrassed. She looked so adorably flustered that Yoshiki couldn't help but grin as he took off his suit jacket and picked up the rope.
"Come here."
"Okay."
Because time was short, the police could only provide a single-person, low-altitude parachute. They would have to tie themselves together with the rope.
"Face me. Make sure you hold on tight when we jump—it'll be safer that way."
"Mm."
Despite the crisis, Ran didn't hesitate. But when the rope tightened and pulled them close, the sudden contact made her blush.
Yoshiki seemed unfazed, busily adjusting the gear. But as the rope squeezed their bodies together, he paused.
Ran noticed his stunned expression.
"What's wrong, Yoshiki-nii?"
"...Nothing." His voice wavered slightly.
Then, unable to resist, he added:
"I just realized… Ran, the girl I've always seen as a little sister, is actually a truly remarkable young woman."
"—!"
Ran's face turned crimson—blush spreading to her ears.
A remarkable woman...?What did he mean by that?
Pressed tightly against his chest, she could feel his heat, his breath... his beautiful, composed face—so close. Her heart pounded madly.
He must know…
And then, she noticed Yoshiki leaning in, ever so slowly—toward her lips.
Ran opened her mouth slightly.
But at the last second, he stopped.
As if snapping out of a trance, he backed away awkwardly.
"Alright... we're secure now."
"Mm."
Her thoughts spun in disarray.
Did he… just try to kiss me...?
But Yoshiki, now composed, looked out at the night sky, took a deep breath, and moved toward the ledge.
The building was pitch dark.
Only the orange flames from below flickered, casting thick black smoke upward. Down on the ground, police and fire truck lights flashed, illuminating the crowd.
The wind was picking up.
Yoshiki double-checked the gear, then looked at Ran and smiled.
"Nervous?"
"Mm..."
"It's natural," he said with a calm grin, even as sweat trickled down his forehead.
His hair had come loose, yet he still looked effortlessly elegant. That delicate smile—cool and reassuring—reflected in Ran's eyes.
"Don't worry. I've skydived before."
"Wait… didn't you say at the amusement park you didn't know if you were afraid of heights?"
"Haha, you remember that?" He chuckled.
"Yeah."
"Sorry... I don't even know why I lied. Bad habit, I guess."
Ran blinked.
So... even kind, honest Yoshiki-nii is capable of lying...?
"Do you remember what else happened at the amusement park, Ran?"
"Yes."
"We made a promise on the Ferris wheel, remember? I said I'd buy you ice cream."
"Right. So… we have to survive until we fulfill that promise."
Ran nodded firmly.
"Yes. I still have to eat that ice cream with you, Yoshiki-nii."
"That's right."
He gave her one last look—confident, steady.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
"Then... 3... 2—"
Yoshiki jumped with her.
From far below, Mōri Kogorō, looking through binoculars, cried out in panic.
"Ran!! Yoshiki!!""The sky—!!"
Their silhouettes pierced the darkness.
Conan clenched his fists. Sonoko covered her mouth. Haibara Ai, the kids, reporters, and police—everyone watched, breathless.
On a faraway rooftop, Gin silently observed through a scope. Beside him, Vodka sweated bullets.
Please don't die, Cointreau! he prayed.
Yoshiki and Ran plunged into the air.
"Hold on!"
"Mm!"
Ran instinctively clung to him like a koala. Yoshiki immediately threw the pilot chute.
They were at only 180 meters—an extreme low-altitude jump. The main chute deployed from the compressed pack behind Yoshiki, the wind yanking it open.
Less than 5 seconds...
Ran held her breath. She didn't scream. She just squeezed tighter, not wanting to disrupt Yoshiki's focus.
The main chute inflated with a thundering snap.
3 seconds left...
The air cushion below expanded rapidly in Yoshiki's vision.
2 seconds...
The parachute fully inflated, slowing them—but still, they descended fast.
With a final rush of air, they crashed into the cushion. Ran groaned slightly. Yoshiki's weight pressed on her, the parachute settling over them.
"Are you okay, Ran?"
"Yoshiki-nii..." she whispered.
"Are you hurt?"
"A little sore..." her voice was faint.
He propped himself up, seeing her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"If we can... let's go have that ice cream."
"Mm..."Her reply was softer than ever.
Just then:
"Ran!! Yoshiki!!""Sister Ran!! Brother Yoshiki!!"
Familiar voices rushed closer.
Yoshiki smiled, seeing the relief on Ran's face.
"We're fine!" they both shouted.
Firefighters quickly deflated the air cushion. Mōri Kogorō burst in, tears brimming, gasping like a broken bellows.
"Thank God… you're safe...!"
"Dad!"
Ran's voice was full of emotion.
The Detective Boys crowded around.Everyone was cheering and crying and laughing.
Yoshiki couldn't help but chuckle.
"Can someone help untie us first?"
"Ohhh!!"
Chapter 222 - 222: Do You Have Any Cash On You?
"Success!"
Upon seeing through his telescope that Hayashi Yoshiki had landed safely, Vodka finally exhaled.
His back was soaked with cold sweat, and now that the tension was gone, his legs felt weak beneath him.
He turned cautiously to his older brother.
Gin was still gazing through the telescope, his sharp eyes locked on Yoshiki as a crowd swarmed him.
"I'm leaving," Gin said coldly, turning away.
Vodka caught the calmness in his voice and sighed in relief. He followed quickly as they disappeared from the rooftop.
Beneath the twin skyscrapers, Hayashi Yoshiki had just escaped the chaotic grip of reporters.
Finally...
He barely had time to breathe when a firm hand clapped his shoulder.
"Uncle Mōri?""Yoshiki..."
Mōri Kogorō stood in front of him, face tight with emotion. If one looked closely, a slight redness lingered in the detective's eyes.
He tried to speak, but words faltered. Instead, he just kept patting Yoshiki's shoulder.
"Thank you... Thank you so much, Yoshiki."
Yoshiki simply smiled.
"Uncle Mōri, do you have any cash on you?"
"Eh? Yes, why?"
"I left my wallet in my jacket... the one I took off before jumping."
He glanced toward Mōri Ran, who was now being embraced by Suzuki Sonoko, both laughing and crying.
"I promised Ran I'd treat her to ice cream once we were safe."
Realizing this, Kogorō hastily pulled out his wallet. His hands trembled slightly as he opened it and offered Yoshiki several bills.
"It's not that much!" Yoshiki laughed, accepting only a ¥10,000 note. "This is plenty."
By now, the police had begun evacuating the area. Firefighters were still working to extinguish the blaze above.
Tokiwa Mio, accompanied by her secretary, rushed over. The once-radiant executive now looked disheveled and grim. She came to apologize and thank Yoshiki, though she was clearly preoccupied.
The Tokiwa Group would take a massive hit from this incident. As the executive in charge of the Twin Towers, Mio was likely facing intense scrutiny.
I'll find time to ask her about [Noah's Ark] later, Yoshiki thought.
Before parting, Mio arranged a hotel and shuttle for Yoshiki and the others.
Yoshiki approached Ran with a warm smile.
"Brother Yoshiki!!""Thank you so much!""You were amazing!"
The children crowded around, eyes filled with awe.
"But let's not make a habit of this," Yoshiki chuckled. "Now... who wants ice cream?"
"Ice cream? Now?""Really?!"
The kids lit up instantly. Resistance was futile.
"Thank you, Brother Yoshiki!"
"If anyone deserves thanks, it's your Sister Ran," he replied, exchanging a gentle smile with her.
The shuttle dropped them off at the hotel, and Yoshiki led the group to a nearby convenience store.
"Only place around here with ice cream," he shrugged.
"That's fine..." Ran smiled brightly.
She, like the kids, stood eagerly before the freezer, the earlier trauma seemingly forgotten. She chose strawberry. So did Yoshiki.
As they walked back, Ran and Sonoko lingered at the rear.
"I was so scared when you jumped!" Sonoko cried. "If anything had happened to you or Brother Yoshiki... I'd never forgive myself."
Ran smiled, gently unwrapping her treat.
The coldness of the strawberry ice cream against her lips brought back a rush of memory—that moment before the jump.
Was he really going to kiss me...?
The memory fluttered uncertainly in her chest—clear, yet confusing.
"Ran? Hey, Ran?" Sonoko nudged her.
"Huh? Oh... sorry, what?" Ran blinked.
"You looked spaced out. You okay?"
"I'm fine," she smiled. "Really."
Behind them, Conan Edogawa walked quietly, deep in thought.
"What's on your mind, detective?" asked Haibara Ai, slowing her pace to match his.
"It was Gin," Conan said gravely. "He planted the bomb in the building."
Haibara's pupils dilated.
"The man who killed the congressman was [Kisaragi Minemizu]. According to his confession, when he went to kill Yoshiaki Hara, the guy was already dead. All he did was leave a broken teacup as a signature."
"Before Yoshiaki Hara died, he was clutching a silver dinner knife," Conan continued. "'Silver' in Japanese letters is... Gin (Ginkaku)"
"Also," he added, "remember when we visited the Twin Towers last week? Someone reported seeing a black Porsche 356A parked nearby."
"I remember."
Haibara's expression turned grim.
Gin killing Hara Jiaming wasn't surprising—she knew the Organization had been scouting elite programmers. But to bomb the server room... and blow up the bridge?
Why...?
Haibara looked at Yoshiki's back and felt a chill run down her spine.
Could he have been their target, too...?
The thought made her heart clench.
She remembered—the moment the bridge exploded was right as Yoshiki stepped onto it. It wasn't coincidence.
They tried to kill him.
She shuddered. Her face paled like a frightened kitten.
Conan, noticing, assumed it was stress from hearing Gin's name.
"It's okay," he tried to reassure her. "They're gone."
"You don't understand..." Haibara whispered.
"What?"
But she said no more.
Her gaze fixed on Yoshiki, Haibara felt a terrible uncertainty take hold of her heart.
Chapter 223 - 223: Tequila, Let Go of Vodka
Patter… patter… patter...
The sound of water echoed from the bathroom as the shower shut off.
Wrapped in a white hotel bathrobe, Hayashi Yoshiki stepped out, steam swirling around him. The warmth of the shower had finally helped him relax.
But his phone had been ringing non-stop.
Just as he moved toward it, a sharp knock echoed from the door.
He opened it.
Standing there was Haibara Ai, face pale and visibly anxious. Her expression was grim, eyes darting about as if she'd sprinted down the corridor.
"What's wrong?" Yoshiki asked, motioning her inside.
"Have you been targeted?" she asked quietly, stepping in.
"Huh?"
"...By Gin and the others."
Her voice was tight, fragile.
Yoshiki raised an eyebrow.Did she misunderstand something...?
He shut the door and walked toward the desk. His phone was still buzzing—more than a dozen missed calls.
As he pressed the answer button, he turned back to Haibara and raised a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
The call was from Yoko Okino.
She'd obviously seen the news and was worried sick.
Yoshiki comforted her gently, assuring her he was fine.
The moment he hung up, another call came in. Then another. And another.
Reiko Shimizu
Seiran Urashi
Editor Nanae Asamiya
Kaito Kuroba
Heiji Hattori
Eri Kisaki
Tōru Amuro
Hakuba Saguru
Even Akako Koizumi had messaged.
All while Haibara Ai sat tensely at the edge of the room, still waiting for a real answer.
Seeing her worry, Yoshiki—still on the phone—smiled, reached out, and gently patted her head. Then, seeing no available seat nearby, he simply pulled her over into his lap.
Haibara stiffened in surprise but didn't resist.
He made another "shh" gesture.
Finally, after several calls, Yoshiki ended the last one and turned to her.
"Don't worry. It was just a coincidence."
"...Don't be ridiculous," she snapped through clenched teeth.
Still seated in his lap, she stared at him, her hands clenched and eyes burning with worry.
"You're still trying to hide it? Gin would never do something so… unnecessary."
"Unnecessary, huh...?" Yoshiki echoed, raising an eyebrow.
A faint smile crept across his lips.
Haibara watched as he pulled out another phone—this one, matte black.
He dialed.
"Hello? It's me."
The voice on the other end made Haibara freeze—that cold, mechanical voice from her nightmares.
Gin.
Yoshiki leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.
"It was just a coincidence," Gin replied flatly.
"Coincidence? I don't think you're the type to do something that pointless."
Yoshiki absentmindedly ran his hand over Haibara's back, gently like one might calm a skittish cat.
"Your target was Yoshiaki Hara, right? Is he connected to the Organization?" he asked.
There was silence.
"Before he died, he was holding a silver dinner knife. And you know how 'silver' spells in Japanese letters..."
"Gin. (Ginkaku)"1
On the other end, Gin said nothing.
Yoshiki continued:
"Careless of you to leave a calling card like that."
Gin ground his teeth.
He often called Vodka an idiot—but today, it seemed the fool was himself.
Still, the irritation didn't extend to Yoshiki. If anything, Gin acknowledged that the young man had simply put the pieces together... and nearly died due to their oversight.
"It really was an accident," Gin finally said. "We were testing the output of a new bomb variant. After Vermouth's last report, R&D increased its payload. We tested it tonight."
"Vermouth..." Yoshiki's tone darkened. "Was this her plan?"
"Hmph. That woman doesn't have the brains for this."
Gin sneered.
"I'll tell you again: 100% accident. We didn't realize you were on the bridge when it went off."
"...I see."
"That's it. We'll talk later. I'll send you your next assignment soon."
Click.
The call ended.
Beside him, Haibara Ai exhaled for the first time in minutes.
"Can we relax now?" Yoshiki teased.
She didn't answer.
Her mind reeled—not from fear of Gin, but from how oddly calm he had been.
He even explained everything… so casually…
To someone like Yoshiki, who hadn't even questioned his authority.
Gin… trusts him.
That realization brought a strange chill over her.
"But seeing you that worried about me makes me kind of happy," Yoshiki said gently.
"Tch..." Haibara turned her face away.
Then, wanting to shift the mood, she muttered:
"You were speaking to quite a few women just now… in a very intimate tone. Are you secretly a playboy?"
"Ah—my greatest secret has been discovered!" he gasped in mock horror.
"Hmph."
Seeing his usual smirk, Haibara couldn't help but snort.
Elsewhere...
After the call ended, Gin placed the phone down.
Vodka, still beside him, finally exhaled.
He didn't tell him it was me... he realized, breathing a sigh of relief.
But then—thud!
Tequila strode over and grabbed Vodka by the collar, yelling in a thick Kansai dialect:
"What the hell happened?! Our man nearly got blown up tonight!"
"Yeah, what's going on?" added Cohen, nodding stoically. "Cointreau's next novel isn't even out yet."
"Let go of Vodka."Gin's voice was calm—but cold.
The large Kansai man reluctantly released Vodka under that icy glare.
Tequila was aware of the mission. He'd recruited Hara Jiaming into the Organization, and knew of his betrayal. Naturally, he kept an eye on the matter.
Vodka tried to explain, awkwardly stammering through it.
"Rooaarr~" giggled Chianti, watching the chaos. "You're in trouble now. Cointreau might hate you for this."
"No way... really?" Vodka muttered, now sweating again.
"Who knows? But if it were me... I'd be pissed."
Vodka sat back at the bar, trying to calm his shaking legs.
I'm in deep...
Meanwhile, back at the hotel room, Haibara was still sitting in Yoshiki's lap, her thoughts conflicted.
Gin trusts him... but at what cost?
As the tension melted, so did her mask.
Yoshiki looked at her gently.
"So? Ice cream again tomorrow?" he joked.
"We'll see," she said flatly, but a tiny smile betrayed her.
tuturuu · special thanks <3
Chapter 224 - 224: Rum’s Attention
[Cointreau will have a mission soon.][The targets have been sent to your email. Observe how they die.][Report to me afterward.]
A message suddenly lit up Vermouth's phone screen.
Her brows arched slightly.
So Rum still hasn't taken his eyes off Cointreau. Curious whether that 'accidental kill' was truly accidental, huh?What a suspicious man.
[OK.]She replied simply.
Vermouth, a seasoned intelligence operative, didn't serve directly under Rum—but she wasn't about to ignore his requests either.
And truthfully, she shared Rum's curiosity.
What kind of man is Hayashi Yoshiki?
Ever since Gin discovered him, Cointreau had shown unparalleled efficiency in the field—executing missions with clinical precision, and often via 'accidents.'
Rum had taken this very seriously from the beginning.
The organization's first known Cointreau kill was Hironobu Kishio, at the front of Beika City Aquarium. He'd been electrocuted using a glowing lightbox. From that moment, it was clear Cointreau had already mastered the art of indirect killing.
Rum believed that couldn't have been his first time.
Even for someone talented, trying such a convoluted method without practice would surely lead to failure. That could only mean—Cointreau had been refining his methods long before the Organization ever approached him.
Vermouth agreed.
And yet... the same man who killed without hesitation risked his life to save Mōri Ran. That contradiction gnawed at her.
What kind of person are you really, Jundu...?
Recently, Rum had started collecting data on all accidental deaths around Mihua City.
Vermouth took notice.
She logged into her email to check the mission objectives Rum had just sent. As her inbox loaded, the evening news flickered from the nearby television.
"Yesterday at 16:27, a man fell from the rooftop of the Yokohama Landmark Tower.""The deceased: Taiga Sano, male, 24.""According to police, he purchased low-altitude skydiving gear, likely for fame. He evaded rooftop security, jumped, and due to a parachute malfunction, tragically fell to his death.""What are young people thinking these days...?"
At the Kindaichi Detective Agency, Tōru Amuro sat in silence, watching the broadcast. His shoulders tensed slightly.
Hayashi Yoshiki—sitting nearby—smiled faintly.
"If you want fame, this isn't the way to do it."
Amuro turned, his piercing blue eyes narrowed.
"Boss," he said sternly, "you managed to survive a parachute drop from under 200 meters. I still think it's a miracle."
"I think so too." Yoshiki leaned back. "But it was either that or die in the fire. And Ran... she was with me. I couldn't let anything happen to her."
Amuro was quiet.
He couldn't fault the logic—but knowing Yoshiki did something so reckless on his day off still rattled him. Despite calling him
"Boss,"
Amuro was seven years older and secretly regarded Yoshiki as a younger brother he wanted to guide—possibly even recruit into public safety.
But to save someone important...Maybe I'd have done the same.
"Have more clients come in lately?" Yoshiki asked.
"Yeah, all thanks to your stunt."
"Hmm… maybe we should close the office for a while. Let the buzz cool off."
Yoshiki smiled again.
"Don't worry, I'll still pay you while we're closed."
"I wouldn't say no to a break... but are you sure? What if a desperate client comes along?"
"Then we hand them over to Uncle Mōri."
"Mōri Kogorō, huh..." Amuro mused.
"Honestly, he seems like a completely different person than the 'Sleeping Kogorō' in the papers. What's your take, Boss?"
"Watch while sitting. Watch while standing," Yoshiki said cryptically.
"...Huh?" Amuro blinked, confused.
Yoshiki said nothing more.
But in truth, Amuro was relieved. He'd recently received his own orders—from Rum—to investigate local accidental deaths.
That guy… he never does anything without purpose.
Could this investigation be related to Cointreau?
From the recent operation, Amuro had learned the code name. He was now part of the task force monitoring accidental homicides.
Uncovering Cointreau's identity was now a priority.
A serious gleam entered his eyes.
Yoshiki, meanwhile, had his own thoughts.
Gin had already sent him his next targets.
But with a task force now tracking these "accidental" deaths—and possibly even Rum himself watching from within the Organization—his situation had grown more dangerous.
And standing at the crossroads of both sides... was Tōru Amuro.
If he ever discovers that I'm Cointreau... and leaks it to the task force...
That would spell trouble.
Yoshiki knew Amuro's capabilities—he'd even been able to investigate Vermouth.
Underestimating him would be a mistake.
"In any case, the office is closed starting today," Yoshiki declared, rising.
"I'll call when we reopen."
Amuro smiled and nodded.
Yoshiki left the agency and got into his car. He drove a few blocks before pulling into a remote, empty lot.
He retrieved a black notebook and pen from his coat pocket.
Opening it to a specific page, he reviewed the entry:
[Sano Taiga]
[March 21, 21:21] — Witnessed a successful skydiving stunt at the Twin Towers. Became obsessed with low-altitude skydiving.
[April 7, 16:27] — Attempted to replicate the stunt at Yokohama Landmark Tower using a parachute. Made a fatal operational error during descent.
[Fell to his death.]
Yoshiki stared at the entry.
I won't let myself walk into a trap.
And it's only fair to use a disposable piece of garbage that preyed on the weak to ensure my own survival.
He began writing on the paper—continuing the entry in his Death Note.
Chapter 225 - 225: Cointreau Might Have Guessed That Someone Was Watching Him
Night.
19:04. It was raining.
A man in black strolled across a crosswalk, umbrella in one hand, his eyes glued to the phone in his other. He was absorbed in crafting a message—so much so, he didn't notice the pickup truck barreling toward him through the downpour.
Only when the roar of the engine filled his ears did panic flood his face.
He stumbled to the side.
From his line of sight, he could see the driver's equally horrified expression as the truck swerved. The wet pavement caused the vehicle to slide, veering away just in time.
CRASH!
The pickup smashed into a nearby traffic light pole.
Sizzle... sizzle...
Sparks danced at the severed base of the pole, which now leaned precariously against the signage of a nearby café.
Gasps erupted from nearby pedestrians. Drivers braked in alarm.
The man who'd just escaped death sat stunned on the ground, breath shallow and erratic.
Just then, another man exited the café, curious about the commotion.
BANG!
One of the pickup's front tires exploded, the sound sharp and startling. The blast rocked the vehicle's body, causing the fractured signal pole to collapse—
CRACK!
It struck the curious man squarely, knocking him to the ground.
Sizzle, sizzle——
Live wires sparked ominously. Rainwater cascaded from the café's awning, the heavy downpour having ballooned its waterproof fabric. A sudden gush of rain fell directly onto the collapsed man.
He began to spasm violently.
…
Across the street, a woman stood frozen in place, eyes wide.
Moments later, as café staff poured outside and pedestrians reached for their phones to call the authorities, she confirmed silently:
The target is dead.
She raised her phone.
[Target confirmed dead?]Rum's message had arrived just thirty seconds earlier.
[Dead. Exact same time as before.]Vermouth replied.
She felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Cointreau's killings were nothing short of demonic.
Every reaction. Every movement. The environment, the timing, even the psychological state of his targets—all orchestrated. As if he were a director crafting fatal disasters. A silent god of death, turning the world into his stage.
And what terrified her most:This was his third target.
Three days in a row.All victims died between 19:05 and 19:06, each by apparent "accident."
Rum: [Still no trace of a setup?]Vermouth: [No. But the timing remains precise—always between 19:05 and 19:06.]
The reply didn't come immediately.
Rum: [Stop observation for now.]Vermouth: [Oh? You're giving up on uncovering Cointreau's secrets?]Rum: [All deaths at 19:05. He may know we're watching. This could be a warning... or a provocation.]Rum: [But if you're still curious, feel free to continue.]
"…"
Vermouth stared at her phone, then pocketed it.
Not a chance.
After what happened last time, she had no intention of being "taught a lesson" by Hayashi Yoshiki again. Had she hesitated even a second longer before yielding, who knows what kind of horrifying retaliation she might have faced?
She started her car and drove off.
Elsewhere...
In Beihua's second apartment, Hayashi Yoshiki calmly tore a page from the Death Note and lit it.
The white sheet curled, blackened, and disintegrated into ashes.
Gin's assignment is complete. But the reactions to follow... that's what really matters.
Ding-ling-ling~
His phone rang.
"Hello? Hakuba?"
"Yes, it's me," said Hakuba Saguru on the other end.
"Another accidental death today. Time of death was approximately 19:05."
"Your intel's getting faster."
"Naturally. There's no reason to keep these things from me now. My father even asked for your thoughts."
"I see. Got specifics?"
"Not clearly yet. That's why I'd like to talk face-to-face. Are you free tomorrow?"
"Sure. Come to my office in the afternoon."
"Deal."
Call ended.
Yoshiki leaned back with a smirk.
Hakuba Saguru was gaining access to information at an accelerating pace. This suggested one of two things: either the task force or his father had begun formally involving him in the investigation.
Or perhaps, they were becoming more and more anxious about their own lack of progress.
Three deaths in three days.All at the same minute.Yet they had no leads—only frantic postmortems and dead-end interviews.
Exactly what Cointreau intended.
"The task force...""Karasuma Renya's whereabouts...""So many beasts in this zoo... and I'm their zookeeper."
Yoshiki stared blankly for a moment, then picked up his pen.
He needed to assess what resources were still in play.
The Organization had abandoned its hunt for the stolen APTX4869. No need to keep relocating the stockpile anymore. But...
How can I use this drug to bait the Zoo's Boss?
His thoughts drifted to Tokiwa Mio.
She had nearly recovered. But the twin tower incident had left her in deep water. As project head, she'd taken the fall, and Tokiwa Group's stock had been plummeting since.
He picked up his phone and typed a message:
[Ms. Tokiwa Mio, would you be available for a meeting sometime soon?]
A buzz came almost instantly.
Tokiwa Mio:
"Of course, Mr. Hayashi. I haven't had the chance to thank you for what you did. Please, name the time."
Hayashi Yoshiki:
"How about 7 PM this weekend? I'll leave the location to your choice."
Tokiwa Mio:
"Agreed."
Yoshiki placed the phone aside.
The next act of his intricate play was about to begin.
Chapter 226 - 226: The Unexpected Murderer Who Provoked the Task Force
"Kindaichi Detective Agency…""Honestly, Hayashi-san, I feel like that name doesn't suit you."
The next afternoon, Hakuba Saguru arrived at the agency dressed casually, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder.
He glanced around the room.
Bright. Neat. The décor exuded clarity and order—exactly what one would expect from someone like Hayashi Yoshiki.
It fits him far better than the Kindaichi image.
Saguru gave a faint, approving nod.
"Yeah?" Yoshiki replied, amused.
"I get the homage—it's probably an Easter egg for you. But when I think of Kindaichi, I picture a scruffy, messy genius.""You're the opposite. Precision, poise, intent. Names carry symbols, you know?"
"Then it works," Yoshiki said with a soft smile.
"Symbols are meant to be interpreted."
Saguru chuckled, setting his bag down and opening his laptop.
"Where's your assistant?"
"Day off."
"Ah... you planned this meeting."
He nodded, understanding. As the computer powered on, Yoshiki placed a fresh cup of tea beside him.
"Thanks."
"Shall we begin?" Yoshiki asked, taking a seat.
"I've been waiting to hear your thoughts," Saguru said gravely, angling the screen toward him.
"Because this time… It's different."
There were three video files in the open folder.
The filenames were timestamped—three consecutive days, each showing what the police had labeled as "accidental deaths."
Yoshiki studied the first video, then the second, then the third.
Each case began inconspicuously. The victims blended into the scene naturally. At first glance, there was no indication of what was about to happen—or who the intended victim even was.
Only once the fatal chain reaction began did the pattern emerge. But even then, the source of the true intent—the murder—was masked beneath chance.
Yoshiki said nothing. His eyes locked onto the screen, intense and unreadable.
Saguru waited, sipping his tea slowly.Black tea, steeped perfectly. Clear reddish tone, smoky aroma…
Despite having reviewed these videos multiple times, Saguru still felt baffled.
The killer leaves no trace. Just coincidence… until it's not.
Yoshiki finally spoke.
"All three deaths occurred between 19:05 and 19:06, correct?"
"Yes," Saguru confirmed. "Starting the day before yesterday—one death each day, same timeframe.""We don't know if it'll happen again today."
"It probably will."
Saguru blinked.
"Did you see something?" he asked, leaning forward.
Yoshiki frowned.
"There's no precise second of death recorded?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, no." Saguru sighed. "The timestamps on the surveillance footage aren't synchronized. Eyewitnesses and call logs confirm only that the deaths occurred within the 19:05 minute."
"I see..."
Yoshiki crossed his hands in front of his face, eyes still locked on the screen.
The three video windows played simultaneously.
His gaze sharpened.
"Fifteen seconds..." he whispered.
"What?" Saguru looked puzzled.
"I think... the deaths occurred at 15, 30, and 45 seconds past 19:05 respectively."
Saguru's eyes widened.
"You're saying... the time it takes for each chain reaction to lead to death is increasing in 15-second intervals?"
"Exactly. Take the most recent case: If the pickup truck incident started precisely at 19:05, then the man who was electrocuted likely died at 19:05 and 45 seconds. The prior two deaths? At 30 and 15 seconds respectively."
"!!"Saguru immediately pulled the laptop back, fetched his pocket watch, and began timing the sequences frame by frame.
The results confirmed it.
"Incredible..." he murmured. "Exactly as you said. This guy—"He paused.
"Using accidents to kill is terrifying enough. But to do so with surgical precision—to the second?""This isn't a coincidence. This is mastery."
"Anything unusual happen before these incidents?" Yoshiki asked, still focused.
"Actually, yes."Saguru opened another folder and played a new video.
A woman exited a shopping mall—Vermouth, wearing her public identity: Chrissie Wynyard, American movie star.
In the footage, a nearby collapse nearly struck her. She avoided serious injury by pure chance.
"That's Chrissie Wynyard," Saguru explained. "A-list celebrity, here on vacation."
"Barely injured," Yoshiki observed.
"Right. But that made her the perfect witness. The task force interviewed her—"
"And exposed themselves," Yoshiki finished.
Saguru nodded with a wry smile.
"We've had three deaths. All high-profile. Same timestamp. The killer is sending a message."
"He's provoking the task force," Yoshiki said plainly. "That actress was bait. Her survival was the test. The moment the task force questioned her, their existence was confirmed."
"Exactly."
"So this is his challenge letter," Yoshiki continued. "A killer who's now escalating—measuring us by the second."
He leaned back.
"If he continues the 15-second pattern, the next death might occur exactly at 19:06. Or maybe still at 19:05—but at 60 seconds, making it the full minute."
Saguru swallowed hard.
"And the location...?"
They both paused.
Then, simultaneously, the two detectives smiled with grim understanding.
"Most likely—""—at the geometric center of the three previous death scenes."
Chapter 227 - 227: 19:06:00
The three victims died at a crossroads—right in the center of the intersection.
The moment he confirmed this, Detective Hakuba immediately called his father, the Superintendent of Police.
After explaining Hayashi Yoshiki's discovery and the potential location of the next victim's death, the authorities recognized the urgency. However, they ordered Hakuba not to go to the scene under any circumstances.
Hakuba hung up without hesitation.
"How could I not go to the scene myself?"
The high school detective pocketed his phone and flashed a boyish grin.
"Right, Hayashi?"
"Yes, but your own safety is important too," said Hayashi Yoshiki, his interest clearly piqued.
After checking the time, the two quickly agreed and set off.
The police—particularly the task force—sprang into action.
At 4:00 p.m., the intersection in front of Mihua Department Store was peaceful.
There were still three hours until 7:00 p.m.
Hayashi Yoshiki and Hakuba found a restaurant overlooking the entire intersection. From the window, they had a perfect vantage point.
"Everything looks normal," said Hakuba.
"No need to waste energy now," replied Hayashi, flashing a soft smile as he picked up the restaurant menu. "Let's order some afternoon tea first."
"You're really laid-back."
"Sugar helps the brain think," Hayashi replied. "Besides, there's nothing to see yet."
Hakuba didn't argue.
Hayashi Yoshiki ordered food and pulled a book from his pocket, reading calmly.
He was too calm.
Even though Hakuba knew that nothing unusual was likely to happen before 19:05, he couldn't help but keep his eyes on the surroundings.
Was the killer nearby... watching?
According to criminal psychology, a surprising number of killers return to the scene of the crime to witness their "masterpiece" or to observe the police's reaction.
A perfectionist killer with a strong need to perform wouldn't miss the moment his setup unfolded.
But from where would he observe?
Hakuba scanned the area—the street, the buildings, even the guests inside the restaurant. After all, it was an ideal observation point.
"You're being too obvious," Hayashi Yoshiki said suddenly.
Hakuba was startled.
But Hayashi's eyes never left his book. He turned a page and asked:
"Why do you think the killer provoked the task force? Issued a challenge letter?"
"To gain a sense of superiority... perhaps to test if the task force had someone smart enough to challenge him."
"Exactly. If you're too obvious, you might be noticed—and killed—by the murderer hiding in the shadows."
He closed the book, looked at Hakuba, and gave a gentle smile.
Hakuba's face turned grim.
But he wasn't the stubborn type. He relaxed, keeping his curiosity in check.
Meanwhile—
Hayashi Yoshiki had already noticed plainclothes officers among the passersby.
They wandered inconspicuously, scanning for anything suspicious.
Unfortunately, nothing turned up.
Time slowly slipped into evening. As the sun set, the moon rose.
The time: 19:01.
Hayashi Yoshiki could feel Hakuba's tension.
The same went for the plainclothes officers.
They checked their watches, glancing around vigilantly. Yet the traffic and foot traffic were light.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Until the time ticked to 19:05—
Suddenly, the traffic lights at the intersection began to flicker.
Then—just like a faulty connection—the red and green lights shut off completely.
Noticing this, Hakuba stood up abruptly.
During rush hour, the blackout triggered instant chaos. Drivers honked furiously, each eager to push through the intersection first.
The plainclothes officers were caught off guard. Their view was obstructed. They strained to catch any signs of abnormality.
Then Hakuba spotted it: a white car stalled in the traffic.
The driver tried repeatedly to restart the engine. The car shuddered—but wouldn't start.
Then smoke began to fill the cabin. Suddenly, flames erupted from within.
"A car's on fire!"
"What!?"
"Over there! That car! Hurry!!"
Panic spread quickly as the surrounding drivers swerved to avoid the flaming car. Plainclothes officers rushed in.
Inside the white car, the driver was frantically pounding the windshield. The doors were locked. Nothing worked.
Officers scrambled to break the windows using emergency tools.
Hakuba checked his pocket watch.
11 seconds left. Maybe 26.
Nothing else looked suspicious.
Then a tall officer at the front of the white car smashed the window with a fire extinguisher and dragged the terrified driver out.
"Thank you...!"
The driver, face covered in soot, gasped in panic.
19:05:44…
Hakuba held his breath.
The second hand ticked to 45.
Still nothing.
But he didn't relax. He noticed something critical: all the police were now focused on the rescued driver.
"No… this might just be a distraction!"
He realized it instantly.
Luckily, some sharp officers realized it too—and spread the warning.
Screeech!!!
A sudden braking sound came from 20 meters behind the intersection.
A small truck, speeding toward the crossroads, hit the brakes upon seeing the jam.
Officers turned toward the sound—some even moved to investigate.
It was at that very moment—
BOOM!!!!!
The white car exploded—with no apparent cause.
Amidst the shock and fire, a palm-sized shard of iron hurtled through the air—piercing through the eye socket of the soot-covered driver and embedding itself in his brain.
Time of death: 19:06:00.
Chapter 228 - 228: Since There Is a Murderer, There Is a Possibility of Finding Him and Arresting Him
"Are you kidding me…?"
When the man struck by the shrapnel collapsed powerlessly, a wave of disbelief surged through everyone present.
What was this?
He died—just like that?
The screams erupting from every direction failed to rouse the police from their stunned confusion. They stood still, watching as the man fell and grew silent. Then, suddenly, everything fell apart.
No murderer.
No suspects.
Even the entire sequence of the victim's death made no logical sense—
Everyone stood frozen, their eyes meeting, dread creeping slowly up their spines.
Was it a coincidence?
Could it really have been just that?
"Call an ambulance—quick!"
"Ah—yes! An ambulance!"
The police scrambled in panic.
Some immediately flashed their badges and began evacuating the surrounding civilians, while others pulled out their phones to call for emergency services.
Detective Hakuba dashed toward the fallen victim.
He knelt beside the body, and with only a cursory examination, his expression froze.
The metal fragment had pierced directly into the brain through the eye socket.
Nothing else.
No signs of foul play. No clear external cause.
The man had died right in front of everyone—because of a random accident.
Hakuba stared at the lifeless body.
He desperately rewound the events in his mind, retracing each second: the flickering lights, the traffic jam, the chaos… beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
"Stop it. Don't push yourself so hard."
A hand landed gently on Hakuba's shoulder.
Suddenly, the usually composed detective dropped to the ground.
He always carried himself like a noble young master. But now, even his eyes looked dazed, confused…
"That man—"
"There's no flaw," came Hayashi Yoshiki's calm voice.
Hakuba looked up and saw Hayashi's gaze fixed on the corpse. His deep-black eyes seemed to etch the scene permanently into memory.
There was a flicker of frustration in his expression.
Was this Hayashi Yoshiki's first true failure as a detective?
—The message left behind by the killer in the previous cases… it hadn't been a clue.
It was a mockery.
An invitation for ridicule.
Even a mind like Hayashi's had failed to catch anything. Could this even be the work of a human being?
A dark cloud settled over Hakuba's thoughts.
The ambulance arrived swiftly.
The victim's body was covered with a white sheet and carried off. The white car was towed for investigation.
Now the police and the task force would examine the victim's identity, background, his vehicle, his route—everything.
"And the reason for the sudden traffic light failure…" murmured Hayashi.
"Even within that five-minute window, we can catalog the license plates involved in the jam."
"The odds are low, but what if the murderer was right there in the congestion?" he added.
His words were calm, precise—and the plainclothes officers subconsciously began acting on them.
Hakuba was silent for a while.
He looked at Hayashi, who stood deep in thought, seemingly unfazed.
"Hayashi."
"Hm?"
"…Do you really think we can catch someone like this?"
"Perhaps."
"…"
"But no matter how strange, coincidental, or 'impossible' the method may seem, it doesn't erase the fact: this was murder."
Hayashi Yoshiki looked directly at the shaken Hakuba and added calmly:
"If there's a murderer, there's a way to find him—and arrest him. Even if we can't find flaws right now, even if we're short on leads—we can't just sit back and let him walk free."
"…You're right."
After a moment of silence, Hakuba let out a sudden smile.
"You look fired up. Are you that mad about being made a fool of?"
"Yeah. It's the first time I've been this humiliated," Hayashi replied without hesitation.
In Hakuba's eyes, the so-called accidental killer was mocking them.
They'd been led here—but only to act out his script. They couldn't stop it. They couldn't even guess who the next victim would be.
"I was thinking… if we had just blocked off the street with officers before it all started—"
"It might have disrupted the plan, yes," Hayashi replied. "But without knowing the killer's identity, it's impossible to say whether that would've led to something even worse."
"True…"
Hakuba considered that possibility.
If the killer truly was a perfectionist with a flair for performance… ruining his masterpiece might drive him to something even more dangerous.
Suddenly, Hakuba's phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID and stepped aside.
Hayashi watched his surroundings.
He could see that several plainclothes officers were already visibly shaken.
After all, the murderer might still be out there, watching from the shadows. If their identities were exposed, they might be next.
A few minutes later, Hakuba returned from the call.
"Hayashi, my father wants to meet with you. He'd like to hear your thoughts."
"Sure."
"Probably sometime in the next two days. Will that work?"
"As long as it's not on the weekend, I'm free."
"Got it."
Hakuba's expression turned serious again.
"Right now, we can only wait on the results of the investigation. I'll share anything new with you."
"Maybe I'll be part of the task force by then."
"...Fair point."
Hakuba gave a resigned sigh—clearly aware that his father's ban on him attending the scene might extend to joining the task force.
Hayashi Yoshiki noticed, and offered a light smile.
"Maybe it's just because you're still underage."
"..."
Shortly after, Hayashi parted ways with Hakuba.
Alright.
Time for a rare moment of free time—
He took out his phone and called Okino Yoko with a smile.
"Hello, Yoshiki-kun?" came a cheerful voice from the other end.
"Is the shoot over yet, Yoko?"
"Yeah! I should be done in about thirty minutes."
"I'll come pick you up. How about we go to that restaurant you mentioned last time?"
Hayashi Yoshiki ended the call with a soft grin.
Chapter 229 - 229: Detective Consultant of the Task Force
Two days later, Hayashi Yoshiki met with Police Chief Hakuba, father of the high school detective.
The meeting took place at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
The man who greeted him looked kind and warm.
In his early forties, with a perpetually smiling face, he bore a resemblance to Suzuki Shirō—Sonoko's father—and gave off a very approachable first impression.
"We finally meet, Mr. Hayashi."
"A pleasure, Chief Hakuba."
"Well... I hear a lot about you from that son of mine," said the Chief with a friendly chuckle.
He motioned for Hayashi Yoshiki to sit down before taking his own seat on the sofa.
"It started when you caught Kaito Kid. My son used to think he was better than most, but getting outmaneuvered by Kid multiple times… that changed things."
"Still, I must say—Hakuba is a very capable young man."
"True," said the Chief with a nod, "but he still has a lot to learn compared to you."
Chief Hakuba continued observing Hayashi Yoshiki.
How to describe it?
His son, Hakuba Saguru, was proud—eccentric at times, not arrogant, but difficult to approach. Few people could truly connect with him.
Ever since the Twilight Villa incident, however, Saguru had not stopped praising Hayashi. He even pulled out a novel written by him and reread it. There was clearly some admiration there.
He might even idolize him a little… the Chief mused.
As for Hayashi Yoshiki, his first impression was excellent—gentle, composed, polite. Undeniably a remarkable young man.
"My son told me all about your inferences," the Chief said. "A perfectionist with a strong sense of performance, skilled in mathematics and physics..."
"We followed that line of investigation, but sadly, came up empty-handed."
"Of course, that doesn't mean you were wrong," he added quickly. "Being able to notice the time manipulation in those three videos and deduce the murderer's intent—that was brilliant."
"If anything, it means the killer is more deeply hidden than we thought."
Chief Hakuba spoke at length with admiration.
While he wasn't formally the head of the task force, he had substantial influence over its operations.
"I've been thinking about the killer myself these past two days, Chief Hakuba."
"Go on."
"From a realistic perspective—can a person truly calculate accidental deaths to this level using human effort alone?"
"...That's exactly the issue," the Chief replied with a sigh.
"Still, unless we catch him, there's no way to know for sure."
Hayashi Yoshiki offered a helpless smile.
The truth was, even the task force had little insight on the perpetrator.
"Mr. Hayashi, the task force has compiled records of accidental deaths over the past few years. Would you like to review them?"
"Absolutely."
Chief Hakuba personally led him into a separate office.
Several officers paused in surprise upon seeing their superior enter.
Among them was someone Hayashi recognized.
"Sir," said Odagiri Toshiro, rising to greet his commanding officer.
"No need for formality," the Chief waved. Then, smiling at Hayashi, he added, "You already know Mr. Hayashi, of course."
"Long time no see, Officer Odagiri," said Hayashi politely.
"Likewise. That last case was solved thanks to you."
They had met before—during the Shiratori Sara wedding incident, where Sato Miwako was shot and Ran Mouri lost her memory.
Odagiri Toshiro had been deeply impressed by Hayashi Yoshiki, whose deductions once again helped shape the current investigation.
"Come with me."
Leaving the warm Chief Hakuba behind, the serious and stern Odagiri Toshiro guided Hayashi Yoshiki into the task force's war room.
And what he saw stunned him.
Photos covered several massive whiteboards, surrounded by handwritten notes and timelines. Records detailed the victims' relationships and final moments. Statements from innocent people who had been unknowingly pulled into these "accidents" were also displayed.
Accidental death records from recent years filled the walls.
"We've noticed a sharp increase in accidental deaths over the past year," said Odagiri.
"Only the last year?" Hayashi narrowed his eyes.
Yes—it had been just over a year since he'd come into possession of the Death Note.
Even the most subtle anomalies can be uncovered when enough data is gathered.
"Where did the first unusual deaths occur?"
"Yokohama," Odagiri replied without hesitation.
He walked over to one of the whiteboards, removed some photos and files, and handed them to Hayashi Yoshiki.
"The first series of suspicious accidental deaths took place in Yokohama, Kanagawa Prefecture—about 16 months ago."
"Four cases in just two weeks. Unfortunately, Kanagawa police didn't take them seriously at the time."
As he examined the documents, a chilling déjà vu washed over Hayashi.
Sixteen months…
Leaving aside the timeline distortions caused by Conan's influence, had that much time really passed?
When he had first obtained the Death Note, Hayashi had indeed tested how closely he could mimic the deaths from Final Destination—and he had done so far away from Beika City, far from his own location.
Now, according to Odagiri, many officers on the task force speculated the killer hailed from Kanagawa.
"..."
"..."
Hayashi Yoshiki remained in the task force office for quite some time.
Odagiri Toshiro was incredibly cooperative—pulling up any material Hayashi requested, allowing him to gain a deep understanding of how the task force viewed the killer.
"There may be more than one killer," said one report.
"They could be a team."
"It's rationally impossible for one person to achieve all this alone."
This was now the dominant theory within the task force.
Hayashi Yoshiki silently agreed.
Finally, as he prepared to leave, Odagiri Toshiro made a formal request:
"Mr. Hayashi, we'd like to invite you to serve as a detective consultant to the task force."
And he accepted—with a quiet, firm nod.
"Murderers who treat human lives like toys and take them so carelessly… must not go unpunished."
As he shook Odagiri's hand, the always-gentle Hayashi Yoshiki wore a rare, weighty seriousness in his expression.
Chapter 230 - 230: The Winner Takes All, and the Loser Becomes a Victim and Bait
The goal was achieved.
Hayashi Yoshiki had successfully joined the task force—as a consultant.
Over the following day, he carefully digested the data the task force had compiled so far.
The verdict?
Almost worthless.
Faced with a killer who used "accidents" as the method of murder, the task force's information amounted to little more than fog.
Even more troubling—there was no mention of the codename "Cointreau."
Did Amuro Tōru choose not to report it?Or perhaps the team feared an internal leak—an undercover agent within their ranks?
Yoshiki narrowed his eyes.
"Based on the data so far," he explained in a remote briefing, "the victims killed by the murderer through these staged 'accidents'... were almost never good people."
"Rapists. Fraudsters. School bullies. Domestic abusers. Murderers. Gangsters..." he listed.
"Some were ex-cons released years ago. Others—criminals living double lives, hiding in plain sight."
"Even the man driving the fuel tanker during that infamous explosion? Not the vehicle's registered driver."
"It's as if the killer is executing people society already wants dead."
"What is this? A purge? A self-appointed executioner of evil?"
He paused briefly.
"Maybe he believes he's punishing the wicked. Maybe he's a narcissist cloaking his cruelty in 'justice.' Either way—he has clear intelligence channels. He knows who to target."
"Police officer. Detective. Psychiatrist. Lawyer..." he speculated.
"And of course... the possibility of a team is rising fast."
Inside the task force's conference room, several officers listened attentively to Yoshiki's voice, echoing through the laptop speaker. Many were jotting down detailed notes.
"Also—has any information about the victims' past crimes circulated online?" he asked. "Any viral posts? Anonymous exposes?"
"We haven't investigated that yet," admitted one officer, raising his hand.
"Please follow up in that direction."
"Understood."
"Consultant Hayashi," asked Odagiri Toshiro, "do you believe the killer is identifying targets through the internet?"
"We can't rule it out. Even if not the main source, it's a potential lead."
"Agreed." Odagiri nodded.
The meeting concluded quickly.
Some officers continued taking notes, others immediately returned to work. Just outside the room, Odagiri took a call—from Hayashi Yoshiki.
"Your presence has really given the team a morale boost, Consultant."
"Has it? I was worried the 'elites' might think I was deadweight."
Odagiri, normally reserved and stoic, sounded almost exasperated.
"Seriously? Don't be ridiculous."
"Haha… By the way, hasn't the task force given the accidental killer an official codename yet? Something memorable?"
"We've… considered it," Odagiri replied hesitantly.
They discussed the matter briefly, then hung up.
So… was "Cointreau" ever proposed? Or has it been deliberately hidden?Too difficult to read Odagiri's reaction…
Hayashi Yoshiki closed the call and restarted his laptop.
At that moment, a sultry female voice interrupted.
"Are you finally done with your work~?"
Shimizu Reiko stepped closer.
The scent of expensive perfume drifted in the air. Her perfectly done makeup, her silk-like skin, and the fact that she wore nothing but luxurious lingerie—she was a vision of indulgence.
"The camera wasn't on, and surely no one would dare interrupt Mr. Hayashi's call..."
"Apologies—" he smiled gently, brushing his fingers through her hair as she knelt by his chair, "it was an important meeting."
"I don't think I could've kept a straight voice if you'd gotten any closer."
Reiko giggled and leaned into him, her joy unhidden.
The laptop rebooted.
Hayashi launched his browser and opened a private forum:
Welcome back, Kira.
The Zoo's Assassination Platform —
Since the company's fall in Osaka, many of the platform's darker dealings had gone underground. Gun-running and smuggling operations were half-paralyzed. But the assassination contracts?
Untouched. Thriving.
"That new guy—Kira—finished another hit."
"Still 100% completion rate…""Didn't they say the target had bodyguards?""He had a lot of them—and Kira still got him."
"...""..."
The forum was abuzz.
Ever since his debut, the mysterious hitman "Kira" had pulled off kill after kill—efficient, silent, perfect.
In most cases, same-day completion.
His specialty: environmental traps. Indirect execution.
If the site had a leaderboard, Kira's name would be rising like a rocket.
Hayashi checked something else.
The bounty on Gin.Still standing—$13 million just for his head.
"How's Ito Suehiko?" he asked suddenly.
Reiko paused, then answered reluctantly:
"He's still hiding in that hotel dark room, dreaming his little dreams. I could seize his assets at any time… Can't I just kill him now, Mr. Hayashi~~?"
She gave a pitiful look and rubbed her cheek against his thigh.
"That would be too cruel," he replied calmly.
"What does it matter~? Reiko's just a wicked woman," she purred.
"No," he whispered, stroking her cheek and lifting her chin gently. "To me, Reiko is a very good woman."
His voice was warm.
His black eyes shimmered—reflecting her face like polished obsidian.
"Life is a game," he said softly. "The winner takes all. The loser becomes a victim—or bait."
"That's how it's always been, hasn't it?"
He smiled faintly.
"You're just bound by the rules. Morality. Law."
"Mr. Hayashi..."
No.