Ch. 231..240

Chapter 231 - 231: Are You Going on a Date with Some Little Girl?

Sunday.

Hayashi Yoshiki had arranged to meet Tokiwa Mio at 7:00 PM that evening.

But first, he made a visit that afternoon to the Mouri Detective Agency.

"Yoshiki? What brings you here all of a sudden?" asked Mouri Kogoro, sitting in his office chair, flipping through a beauty magazine while lazily smoking a cigarette. As soon as he saw Yoshiki, he straightened up reflexively.

"Aunt Eri asked me to bring some things to Ran," Yoshiki replied with a smile, lifting the bag in his hand.

"What is it?" Kogoro asked, peering curiously.

"Looks like cake or something."

"Tch."

The second he heard the word cake, Kogoro immediately lost interest.

But Ran, who had just stepped out of her room, lit up with joy.

"Cake? Thanks for going out of your way, Yoshiki."

"Aunt Eri kept saying Ran would be happy if I brought it over... but where's Conan?"

"Oh, he just went to play with his friends. I think they're at Dr. Agasa's house playing video games."

"I see."

It seemed like a peaceful Sunday for everyone in Beika City.

Hayashi Yoshiki settled onto the sofa.

Ran happily prepared tea, then took the cake into the kitchen to cut and plate it.

"By the way, Yoshiki," asked Kogoro, "why've you been pushing all your commissions onto me lately?"

"I gave myself a little vacation, so I've been handing clients your business card."

"...You're living easy."

Kogoro initially wanted to give him the classic "youth should hustle" lecture—but then he remembered that Yoshiki probably made enough from his novels to live comfortably for life.

"Got any tough cases lately?" Yoshiki asked casually.

"Heh. With Mouri Kogoro around, no case is too tough!"

"...That's true."

"Dad always brags when Yoshiki's around," Ran teased as she returned with the tea kettle.

Kogoro slammed down the magazine and puffed up his chest.

"What do you mean 'brags'? I'm just letting the younger generation shine for once! Right, Yoshiki?"

"Uncle's absolutely right," Yoshiki replied with a grin.

"Brother Yoshiki..." Ran looked at him helplessly.

Yoshiki was perfect in so many ways—but maybe too perfect. Always polite, considerate, thoughtful to a fault... even at his own expense.

Still, sometimes he could be a little cheeky.

She recalled when he tricked her about whether he had acrophobia... or when he let her dad and Conan eat her mother's cooking while keeping quiet.

She smiled.

Beep beep beep—!

The landline on the desk suddenly rang.

Mouri Kogoro snatched it up.

"Mouri Detective Agency, how can I help you?"

A pause.

"Huh? You want me to be in a commercial?"

Both Ran and Yoshiki perked up.

Kogoro's face lit up, eyebrows dancing with pride. He straightened his collar and spoke loudly:

"What kind of commercial? ...What? Sleeping pills?!"

His smile vanished.

"You just want me to act as I normally do? So it's easy to shoot…?"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

He stood up and shouted into the receiver.

"Who do you think I am!? No matter how much money you offer—"

...and then, mid-rant, he froze.

"Wait, how much? You can really pay that?"

"Well then, you've found the right man! Haha—leave it to me!"

"I'll be here waiting at 3 PM sharp tomorrow!"

He hung up, practically glowing.

"How about that, Yoshiki? Big job, huh? Let me treat you tonight—let's go out for dinner!"

"Not tonight, Uncle. I've already got plans."

"Huh? Is he going on a date with some little girl?" Kogoro asked, startled.

Ran blinked.

Yoshiki's smile didn't falter.

"I'll keep you in suspense, but it's someone you know, Uncle."

"Someone I know? That narrows it down to half of Tokyo..." Kogoro muttered and returned to his magazine.

Yoshiki chuckled, then leaned in toward Ran, whispering:

"It's Miss Tokiwa Mio."

"Miss Tokiwa...?"

"She invited me to dinner to thank me for last time. I assume it'll be just one meal."

"That makes sense," Ran nodded, then smiled. "You did save her, after all."

"Still, it's a bit of a hassle. I'll probably have to go all the way out to Nishitama City—kind of time-consuming."

"You can't say that," Ran said earnestly. "You saved someone's life. That matters. You saved me, too, Yoshiki. I'll never forget that."

She paused, thinking.

"But now that I think about it... I still don't know how to repay you."

"So you're going to buy me cake?" he teased.

"Ah..." she blinked.

Realizing he was referring to the cake she had just served—brought by her mother, no less—Ran flushed slightly.

"That doesn't count. It was made by Mom and delivered by you. That's not right."

She pushed the plate toward him with a shy smile.

"Next time, let me treat you to cake."

"Deal." Yoshiki smiled warmly.

Across the room, Kogoro glanced at the two of them, smirked, and went back to reading.

Yoshiki stayed a while longer—just half an hour—before saying goodbye.

Ran cleaned up the dishes and looked at the remaining cake.

Only one-third of it had been eaten.

She froze.

Brother Yoshiki… doesn't like sweets, does he?

She remembered—he didn't order anything at the cake shop with her and her mom. And during that Valentine's Day banquet, he barely touched dessert...

"So you're going to buy me cake?"

Thinking back on his words, Ran suddenly felt... uneasy.

Why does he always go along with me—even if it's not what he wants?

 

 

Chapter 232 - 232: IT Company Sindorah

Clink.

Two bubbling champagne glasses met with a gentle tap.

"Cheers." ×2

Hayashi Yoshiki and Tokiwa Mio sat across from each other.

Between them was a spread of sumptuous dishes. After setting down his glass, Yoshiki offered a courteous smile.

"Thank you, Miss Tokiwa, for finding such a wonderful restaurant."

"Mr. Hayashi, what are you saying?" she replied with a gentle smile. "If not for you, I might not be here at all."

"You're surprisingly calm, Miss Tokiwa."

"Yes..." she said softly.

The revelation that Hosui Kisaragi had murderous intentions toward her had left her with complex emotions. Even now, part of her refused to believe it.

She had always respected that stern old man. Not even the deaths of Councilor Oki Iwamatsu and Hara Yoshiaki had made her suspect him.

"I heard from the police that Mr. Kisaragi's remains were found?" Yoshiki asked gently.

"Yes. After the fire on the 45th floor was extinguished, one of the bodies was Kisaragi-sensei's."

"He told the police he didn't want help, didn't want the elevator, insisted on staying behind…"

"He must have decided from the beginning to remain in the fire," she sighed. "The teacher was... purer than I thought."

She hadn't known the twin-tower project would cause such damage to the Feng Shui of Kisaragi.

But even if she had—she would have moved forward with the project anyway.

Tokiwa Mio had aimed to make it the Tokiwa Group's signature achievement. Yet now, after the explosion, that vision had collapsed. As project lead, she bore the lion's share of responsibility.

Her dream of becoming heir to the Tokiwa conglomerate? Probably over.

Yoshiki observed her carefully.

A woman like Tokiwa Mio, who had sold off Kisaragi's paintings to win favor, accepted bribes, and pushed ahead with the twin towers for personal gain—she was no fool. Ambitious, calculating, capable.

If not for a series of accidents—and the interference of Gin and his group—she might have succeeded.

But now? Unless a majority of the other heirs disappeared, her chances were near zero.

Not that I care to help her, Yoshiki thought.

Being president of a legitimate company wouldn't benefit him—and using the Death Note to change her fate would only raise the risk of exposure.

"Mr. Hayashi, was there something you needed from me?" she asked smoothly.

"Yes, actually…" he replied, composing himself with a smile. "Miss Tokiwa, are you familiar with the concept of artificial intelligence? I was wondering if there's any current activity in that area of the IT industry."

"AI?" She blinked. "The concept's been around since 1956. A lot of IT firms use it as a buzzword to attract investment. But most of them haven't achieved anything significant. Why do you ask?"

"A friend asked me to look into it," Yoshiki said with a wry smile. "I warned him it probably wasn't very reliable."

"I see." Tokiwa Mio chuckled.

Given his identity as a novelist and detective, she had no reason to suspect any deeper motive.

Before he could shift the topic, she volunteered:

"There's a company in the U.S. called Sindorah—a giant in the IT field. About a year ago, they began aggressively recruiting programmers with high salaries. Word is, they've been entering the AI sector seriously."

"Sindorah…?" Yoshiki echoed.

"Yes. They've even worked with our Nagahama Group on some deals. Not just us—Sindorah has been buying up massive server clusters from tech firms around the world since last year."

"I see…"

A year ago.

That timeframe tugged at something in Yoshiki's memory.

It was around then that his work had begun. If Sindorah was the "apple" he'd been seeking—this connection couldn't be ignored.

He asked no further questions.

Instead, he calmly finished dinner with Tokiwa Mio.

"Heading back already, Mr. Hayashi?" she asked with a hint of something beneath her voice.

He smiled warmly.

"Yes. I've got plans with friends, so I'm returning to Mihua first."

"I see... Please be careful on your way back."

She sounded faintly disappointed.

But Yoshiki had already made up his mind. He noticed the subtle shift in her tone—yet had no interest in pursuing it. A one-night stand was meaningless to him. Worse, it risked emotional entanglement.

Elsewhere…

After a long day, Kisaki Eri had just settled in for a quiet evening with a movie.

Her phone buzzed.

Ran: "Mom, do you know what Yoshiki likes to eat?"

Kisaki Eri raised an eyebrow.

Her curiosity instantly sparked. She typed back.

Eri: "Why the sudden interest?"

Ran: "I just realized... Brother Yoshiki always seems to go along with what other people want."

Ran:"…""…"

Ran recounted what had happened that afternoon at the agency.

Eri understood immediately.

Yoshiki was always like that.

He downplayed his efforts. Made himself seem unimportant. Even when Ran earnestly wanted to thank him, he brushed it off—offering cake, of all things, which he didn't even like.

So gentle it was heartbreaking.

When she thought of the twin towers incident, Eri still broke into a cold sweat. Even after Ran and Yoshiki returned safely, she couldn't stop trembling inside.

But Yoshiki never brought it up. Never took credit.

Eri sighed.

Yet knowing that Ran had picked up on it—that filled her with quiet relief.

Eri: "His favorite thing is McDonald's nutritious breakfast."

Ran: "Huh?"

Eri: "I know. But it's what he likes."

Ran: "But… he saved me. Isn't McDonald's a bit too…"

Eri: "That's not the point. What matters isn't the meal—it's the meaning behind it. As long as your intent is sincere, it doesn't matter what you give."

Eri: "Would you like some advice?"

 

 

Chapter 233 - 233: Terrified Vodka

Ding-a-ling~

The tavern door swung open, and the bell overhead gave a cheerful jingle.

"Welcome," the bartender called instinctively.

Hayashi Yoshiki stepped into the dimly lit room.

Even before he made it to the bar, a wave of tension rolled through the space—particularly from Vodka, who sat rigidly, eyes fixed downward.

"Yo! Cointreau!" said Chianti, ever the first to speak.

"Long time no see," added Korn, turning his head slightly.

"Indeed," Yoshiki replied gently.

He made his way to the bar where Gin sat, taking a final drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out. The silver-haired man gave him a faint nod.

"What brings you here?"

"In a good mood tonight. Thought I'd have a drink."

Yoshiki took a seat—but instead of scanning the drink menu, he turned toward Vodka, who was stiff as a board.

"Mr. Vodka," he asked with a smile, "you seem tense. Not in a bad mood, are you?"

"N-No! I'm fine—great, actually!"

Vodka replied instantly, mimicking Yoshiki's voice a little too precisely—his nerves warping the tone.

Yoshiki raised an eyebrow.

Chianti found this absolutely hilarious. She hopped down and slapped Vodka on the back.

"Come on, Vodka! You're scared stiff of his revenge and you're not even hiding it."

"Revenge?" Yoshiki echoed.

"Oh, you don't know? He's the one who detonated the building's communications bridge last time."

Chianti grinned and sold him out without hesitation.

Vodka's heart seized.

He wanted desperately to clamp her mouth shut, but under Yoshiki's gaze, he couldn't even move.

Cointreau... He's dark. A psychopath. A walking disaster...

Even those who hadn't offended him ended up dead. What chance did Vodka have?

"S-Sorry, Cointreau..." Vodka stammered.

"So it was you who set off the bomb?" Yoshiki replied, sounding genuinely surprised—completely ignoring the apology.

Vodka felt a chill rush through his spine.

But moments later, Yoshiki turned back to the bar, eyes drifting to the liquor shelf.

"Well," he said flatly, "it was just an accident. So, I accept your apology, Mr. Vodka."

"...You do?"

"'Accident'—what a beautiful word."

Yoshiki smiled.

"Sometimes, a tiny accident can throw off even the most meticulous plan. I realized that long ago... which is why I find the concept so charming."

"So no, Mr. Vodka. I won't hold it against you."

"Something you understood long ago?" Gin finally spoke, intrigued.

From the way Cointreau phrased it, he implied he'd once failed to kill someone—because of an accident.

But he didn't elaborate.

Instead, he turned to the bartender.

"Cosmopolitan, please."

Then, with a casual smile:

"By the way—I've joined the task force."

"What?!" Chianti nearly dropped her glass. "You joined the police!?"

"Well, a special task force, actually. They're focused on investigating accidental homicides."

"That's insane!" she laughed. "They've basically let a wolf into the henhouse. What are those salary-draining cops even doing!?"

She poured herself a drink and raised her glass.

"Hey, let's celebrate! Double pay now, huh?"

Gin let out a rare snort of laughter.

Cointreau... always full of surprises.

Just recently, Vermouth had been taken in for questioning. The organization had learned a special unit was targeting their "accidental" murders.

Now?

Cointreau had infiltrated that very group—before they even found out.

Did he predict this and plan accordingly?

Not that it mattered. If someone were to claim Hayashi Yoshiki was working for the police?

That was more absurd than the sun rising in the west.

"Just don't blow your cover," Gin said coolly.

"Naturally."

Chianti glanced between the two of them.

"Cohen, say something, will you?"

Cohen sipped his drink in silence.

Eventually, he turned to Yoshiki and asked, deadpan:

"Will you still have time to write novels after joining the task force?"

"I've been thinking about plots lately," Yoshiki replied vaguely.

But that was enough to make Cohen smile faintly.

The Cosmopolitan arrived.

Its sweet-sour scent—cranberry juice, lime, vodka, and the liqueur that shared his codename—filled the air.

"There should be some skilled IT experts in the organization, right?" Yoshiki asked.

"Yeah. What're you planning?" Gin asked, intrigued.

"I want to coordinate some operations within the task force."

Yoshiki's eyes narrowed.

He had high hopes for Noah's Ark—a theoretical artificial intelligence capable of roaming the internet freely, accessing any system, and processing data at superhuman speeds.

If it worked, it could uncover Rum's true identity—and even reveal the mastermind behind the Zoo.

But Yoshiki wasn't naive enough to rely on just one plan.

Even without the Zoo's secrets, AI had immense utility for him.

With its processing power, physics calculations, mapping capabilities, and real-time navigation of terrain, traffic, and behavior models, it could become the ultimate accident orchestrator.

If the user of such a system... was labeled as an accidental killer—

Yoshiki gently swirled the drink in his hand, as if it were champagne.

His smile deepened.

"..."

Next to him, Vodka trembled.

That smile—so calm, so deadly—fixed on the Cosmopolitan in his hand?

What the hell does he mean by smiling like that at a cocktail!?

He leaned over to Gin, panicked.

"Gin… Gin! If I wanted to apologize properly… what should I do?" he whispered.

Yoshiki turned to him, looking puzzled.

"Hmm? Just cooperate with my plans from now on, Mr. Vodka."

Does… Does that mean dying according to your script!?

Vodka looked crushed.

Gin rolled his eyes.

"Idiot. He's talking about task force operations."

"Ah—right! Of course! I'll do my best!"

 

 

Chapter 234 - 234: We Are Developing an Underground Relationship

"Wow! Look at all the celebrities!"

"There's Mai Kuraki, Miho Komatsu, and Two-Mix! But the most important one is—"

"Ms. Okino Yoko!!"

"…Wait, isn't that Shu standing next to her!?"

The venue was flooded with dazzling lights and a glamorous crowd of artists and celebrities. Among them stood a stunned Kogoro Mouri, halfway through fangirling before his tone shifted in shock.

Ran, wearing an elegant dress, was just about to scold her father for being loud—until she, too, caught sight of the unexpected figure.

Following Kogoro's gaze, her eyes widened.

There he was—Hayashi Yoshiki, smiling warmly beside none other than Yoko Okino, chatting easily as if they were old friends.

Sensing the attention, Yoshiki glanced in their direction and gave a friendly wave. Okino Yoko turned as well.

"Ah, it's Mr. Mouri and the others."

"Shall we go over and say hello?" Yoshiki offered.

"Yes, okay… hehe."

Yoko Okino giggled softly, her hand gently covering her mouth.

But before they could move, Kogoro Mouri dashed over.

Grabbing Yoshiki by the sleeve, he pulled him to the side—away from Okino—and whispered urgently:

"Hey! Ashu! Why are you with Miss Yoko!?"

Yoshiki answered, calm and composed:

"Well, we're currently… developing an underground relationship."

"WHAT!!??"

Kogoro recoiled like a cat splashed with cold water.

His entire body jolted as if electrocuted, his mouth frozen in a silent scream of disbelief. He pointed a trembling finger at Yoshiki, trying to find words.

You-you-you-you-you-you…!!

Heads began to turn. The dramatic scene had caught the attention of nearby guests.

Yoshiki blinked innocently and added with a chuckle:

"I was joking."

"…Don't joke like that!!" Kogoro snapped, face red with a mix of anger and relief.

Ran, who had frozen in place just like her father, let out a breath and giggled.

There it is— Yoshiki-nii's mischievous side. Always messing with people so calmly...

"Did Yoshiki say something?" Yoko Okino walked up curiously.

"He told Uncle Mouri that we're secretly dating," Yoshiki said, voice lowered mischievously.

"Yoshiki-kun!" Yoko gasped, her cheeks flushing.

She looked around anxiously.

"Please don't tease like that. If the media overhears, it'll be front-page gossip tomorrow…"

"Exactly," Kogoro coughed awkwardly, straightening his tie. "Ashu's got to be more careful, or you'll cause trouble for Miss Yoko."

So he's worried about Yoko's reputation... Yoko thought, casting a quick glance at Yoshiki.

And then she smiled, eyes soft.

Still, Yoshiki-kun said that in front of his family… even as a joke, he wanted to tell people close to him. That must mean something, right?

"So what brings you here, Yoshiki-nii?" Ran asked.

"I was invited to the event. I didn't know Miss Yoko would be here too."

"Yes, I approached Yoshiki-kun first," Yoko added with a smile.

Ran nodded in understanding.

Kogoro, meanwhile, stared at Yoshiki in disbelief, thinking:

How does this kid get all the luck? First Eri, now even Yoko Okino…

Yoshiki only smiled.

He was here for the grand opening of a new high-profile restaurant:

[3K World Restaurant]

A project co-founded by three international sports legends:

A world-renowned professional boxer,

An American baseball pitcher,

And a European football goalkeeper.

To generate buzz, they'd invited celebrities and influencers from across the entertainment industry.

Yoshiki had nothing urgent on his plate—no assignments from the Organization, and the task force had gone quiet since the "accidental murderer" vanished.

His investigation into Sindorah had also hit a temporary lull.

Plenty of time to enjoy the moment…

And this trip to Osaka? The perfect opportunity.

After all… the record in the Death Note I wrote just before leaving… should take effect soon.

"By the way, where's Conan?" he asked.

"Over there with Heiji," Ran replied, pointing across the room.

Sure enough, the dark-skinned Osaka native stood beside the boy, laughing as they talked.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed.

All eyes turned to the stage, where a spotlight illuminated a stylish host gripping a mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience! Now, let me formally introduce the owners of the 3K World Restaurant, the stars of tonight's cocktail party!"

Applause erupted.

"First, the undefeated legend of the boxing ring—Mr. Ricardo Barre!"

A short, powerfully built Brazilian man stepped onto the stage.

"Next, with a fastball clocked at 160 km/h—Western Award-winning pitcher Mr. Mike Nord!"

A tall Japanese-American man with a clean mustache followed.

"And last but not least, the impenetrable fortress of European football—Mr. Ray Curtis!"

When the blonde goalkeeper appeared, cheers exploded throughout the venue.

Yoshiki clapped along, smiling politely.

"Do you know them?" Yoko Okino asked in a low voice.

"Not really. I'm not much into sports," he said softly. "But judging by the crowd's reaction, they must be quite amazing."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because… it's like when I see you on stage, Yoko. Even if I didn't know anything about showbiz, I'd fall for you instantly."

Yoko's cheeks turned pink.

Yoshiki-kun… always saying things like that so naturally…

She clapped lightly to hide her blush.

Meanwhile, across the room—

Heiji Hattori nudged Conan, who was staring at the stage with sparkling eyes.

"So? Worth the trip?"

"Definitely!" Conan grinned wide, eyes fixed on Ray Curtis.

For someone who'd loved football since childhood, seeing his idol in person was a dream come true.

 

 

Chapter 235 - 235: You Said I Am Always Thinking About How to Kill People, Right?

Hayashi Yoshiki had no real interest in the three athletes standing proudly onstage, but he kept up his sociable facade.

Ray Curtis, the football goalkeeper, was explaining the name behind "3K World Restaurant."

"The first 'K' stands for KO—knockout—in boxing.

The second is for a strikeout in baseball.

And the third 'K' represents the keeper—goalkeeper, of course."

The audience responded with polite applause. But just as the cheer rose—

"Isn't there another 'K' they conveniently forgot to mention?"

A mocking voice cut through the air.

All eyes turned.

The moment Ray Curtis laid eyes on the speaker, his face twisted into a scowl.

A man stood there—suited up, but no clothes could hide his sleazy, self-satisfied aura.

"For three guys who've made headlines more for their scandals than their skills, I've got a better K—'jerK.'"

Ed Michael.

The notorious tabloid journalist smirked as he pulled out an invitation card.

"I was invited, see? Not sure who sent it, but I sure appreciate them. This sushi? Pretty damn good. Hahaha!"

With that, he swaggered off like he'd just scored a personal victory.

Ray Curtis and the other two founders stood frozen, their expressions soured.

"Who was that guy?" Ran asked quietly.

"His name's Ed Michael," Mouri Kogoro replied, frowning. "An American gossip columnist. He specializes in sensational stories—half-lies, half-imagination—and his writing's slick enough to dodge lawsuits."

"Ugh… even among sleazy reporters, he's the absolute worst," Hayashi Yoshiki muttered with a faint smile.

The disruption passed quickly, and the cocktail party resumed.

The buffet table was packed with exquisite dishes, each more tempting than the last. Even Ed Michael, having insulted the hosts, now munched happily on a plate of sushi—utterly unfazed by being shunned by the other guests.

Nobody greeted him.

He didn't care.

His gaze darted around the venue, eyes hunting for prey. It was Ray Curtis he'd come to provoke—but in a place filled with stars and secrets, anything could make for juicy copy.

Meanwhile, Hayashi Yoshiki remained calm and composed, exchanging lighthearted banter with Yoko Okino.

Their easy conversation didn't attract suspicion—after all, Yoko had spoken favorably of Hayashi Yoshiki many times in public, even recommending his novels during talk shows. Everyone assumed they were just good friends.

Kogoro Mouri, however, kept throwing suspicious glances their way from across the room.

"I'm stepping out to use the restroom," Hayashi Yoshiki said with a casual smile as he set down his drink.

But the moment he left the venue, Ed Michael noticed—and followed.

In the restroom, Hayashi Yoshiki stood at the sink, calmly washing his hands.

Ed Michael strolled up beside him and did the same, rinsing off the rice grains from his fingers as he glanced sideways.

"You're Hayashi Yoshiki, right? The mystery novelist?" he said, voice oily with false familiarity.

"...What do you want?" Hayashi asked, not bothering to look.

"They say you're a brilliant detective. Always solving cases ahead of the police," Ed said with a sly grin. "Rumor has it… you can do that because you're constantly thinking about murder. Always imagining ways to kill people. That true?"

Hayashi Yoshiki said nothing.

Ed chuckled.

"So you're not denying it."

Still no response.

"I also heard," Ed added casually, "that you've seen a psychologist. At the same clinic as Kyosuke Fudo, right? The guy who went on that cop-killing spree…"

"...What's your point, Mr. Michael?"

"Oh, I'm not here to say anything. I'm here to write, Mr. Hayashi."

He grinned, the sort of grin that made most people's stomach turn. His reputation preceded him—whenever Ed said those words, people got nervous. Rightly so.

He's digging for dirt to spin into a headline, Hayashi Yoshiki thought.

Much of what Ed said was already public. Hayashi Yoshiki's past therapy visits had come to light during the fallout of the Fudo incident. His name had appeared briefly on patient records—it was enough for the vultures to circle.

But Hayashi Yoshiki wasn't like most people.

"I've heard some gossip journalists are paid to write smear pieces," Hayashi Yoshiki said coolly, wiping his hands with a folded handkerchief.

"Others blackmail their targets with secret photos… all under the guise of 'hush money.' Sound familiar?"

Ed Michael shrugged.

"Comes with the territory."

Hayashi Yoshiki folded his handkerchief neatly and dropped it into the wastebasket—then turned, eyes locked on Ed's.

His smile was still there. Gentle. Calm.

Too calm.

"Just now," he said, voice silky, "you said I'm always thinking about how to kill people."

"That's right," Ed answered, still smug.

"Then I must thank you," Hayashi Yoshiki said softly. "Because that was an extremely interesting thing to say."

He stepped past Ed Michael slowly.

His smile never changed.

But his eyes—

Cold.

Unmoving.

Unnaturally hollow, like a pane of black glass.

Ed Michael stood frozen.

The man before him wasn't angry, or defensive. He didn't scowl, didn't raise his voice. He smiled too politely… and that smile didn't reach his eyes at all.

It was so perfect it felt pasted on.

It was wrong.

(…He figured me out.)

Just as Ed Michael's thoughts began to turn, he caught Hayashi Yoshiki's lips move—

(You really discovered it.)

No sound.

Only the silent movement of his lips.

Then he walked away.

Ed Michael stood rooted in place.

A chill crawled down his spine.

Outside the restroom, Hayashi Yoshiki checked his watch.

19:41.

Still a bit early.

Just as he rounded the corner, he ran into Heiji Hattori and Conan.

"Brother Yoshiki!" Conan greeted, beaming.

"You're in a good mood tonight," Hayashi Yoshiki noted.

"Of course!" Heiji chuckled. "This kid's idol—Ray Curtis—is standing right up there."

"Ah, I see," Hayashi Yoshiki said, smiling gently.

Then I guess I've just saved his hero from falling…

Hayashi Yoshiki had always remembered the infamous incident surrounding the 3K Restaurant.

Ray Curtis, betrayed by false allegations from Ed Michael, had planned to kill the man at this very event.

Michael had published a fabricated report accusing Ray of drug abuse. The resulting media storm drove Ray's wife to suicide. Though Ray eventually cleared his name in court, all he received was a half-hearted apology.

It wasn't enough.

So Ray, consumed by grief, plotted revenge.

But this time… I got to Ed first.

And Hayashi Yoshiki's fingers had already danced across the pages of the Death Note.

 

 

Chapter 236 - 236: Speeding Vehicle

Something's not right...

That detective... there's something very wrong with him.

Ed Michael stormed out of the cocktail party and hurried back to his hotel, but Hayashi Yoshiki face lingered in his mind like an afterimage on scorched film.

(You really discovered it.)

That was what Hayashi Yoshiki's lips had silently mouthed.

It was a bluff, Ed told himself.

Of course it was. A psychological feint. Empty intimidation.

But—

Then why did it feel so real?

Ed Michael was no stranger to confrontation. He had been threatened, shoved, even spat on. He'd made enemies of actors, musicians, CEOs, and politicians. He had thick skin, and thicker armor.

Yet, Hayashi Yoshiki's expression unnerved him like nothing else ever had.

That smile—too perfect.

Too practiced.

It was a mask, molded with disturbing precision, and it unsettled Ed far more than any curse or outburst could have.

This guy... is not normal.

He sat down at his desk and flipped open his laptop. Fingers flying across the keyboard, he began to dig. He typed:

"Hayashi Yoshiki scandal – controversy – psychiatrist – death – mystery"

Search results flooded in.

The savior of the police. The prince of mystery fiction.

Awards, praise, book signings, TV interviews—fans gushed about him like he was the second coming of Sherlock Holmes.

Makes me sick, Ed sneered.

He dug deeper, looking for anything dark beneath the surface. Most negative stories had long since vanished—but one name came up again and again:

Beniko Suo.

A few months back, Mahogany Entertainment had run a smear campaign targeting Hayashi Yoshiki.

Interesting.

The stories were weak—clearly clickbait. Nothing concrete, all quickly drowned by fan outrage.

But then—

He searched Beniko Suo's name.

And froze.

[Former philanthropist and parolee Beniko Suo found dead in brutal homicide]

[Murder-suicide shocks entertainment industry][Secretary Inaba Kazuyo kills Beniko Suo, then herself—police say motive unknown]

Dead...?

Ed stared at the screen.

Ten days.

That was the gap between Hongzi's final defamatory article about Hayashi Yoshiki and her death.

And afterward, silence.

Not one new accusation. Not one whisper of controversy.

Coincidence...?

A chill crept down his neck. His mouth felt dry.

Forget it, he told himself. Focus on Ray Curtis.

Ray was his real story. The drugs, the lawsuits, the tragic suicide of his wife—this was the kind of tale tabloids devoured.

And if the rumors were true… if Ray really had turned to drugs after the scandal?

That was a bombshell.

Grabbing his car keys, Ed made for the exit.

He needed fresh air.

Later that night.

The cocktail party wound down before ten o'clock. Guests were beginning to scatter.

Hayashi Yoshiki walked alongside Kogoro Mouri, Ran, and Conan, smiling at the boy who bounced at his side.

"You look really happy today, Conan."

"Yeah! I actually got to meet Ray Curtis and talk to him!"

"He's just a kid," Ran chuckled. "But honestly, Dad looked just as excited."

"He even got another autograph." Hayashi Yoshiki glanced back and smirked.

They watched as Mouri emerged from the crowd, grinning ear to ear, clutching a signed card to his chest.

"Dad, you already have a bunch of Miss Yoko's autographs," Ran teased.

"That's not the point," Mouri huffed. "Each one is unique! A different moment, a different emotion... it's art."

He tucked the autograph into his coat like a precious gem, then gave Hayashi Yoshiki a strange look.

"Still, Ah Shu… your earlier joke was kinda mean."

Hayashi Yoshiki only smiled.

He turned back to look toward Yoko Okino, still smiling and greeting fans under her agent's watchful eye.

She's busy tonight. Can't move freely. That's fine.

He had other plans.

"Have you booked your hotel, Uncle?"

"Yeah, it's in the eastern district."

"Mine's in Umeda."

"Ah, too bad—we're not on the same route."

"It's alright. Just let me know when you're heading back to Mihua. I'll book the train with you."

"Okay, Yoshiki-nii!" Ran waved. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight."

They parted ways with warm farewells.

Hayashi Yoshiki hailed a taxi, gave the driver an address, and settled into the back seat.

He rolled up his sleeve, glanced at his watch.

21:48.

Right on time.

The car hummed along the roads of Umeda, Osaka's beating heart—bright, modern, pulsing with life.

Hayashi Yoshiki rode in silence, pulling a slim novel from his coat. In the soft light of passing traffic, he read calmly, as if nothing weighed on his mind.

From time to time, he peeked at his watch.

22:06.

The taxi pulled up near a luxury hotel, lights shimmering off its glass facade.

"One moment—I'll get my wallet."

He took his time counting out bills.

The driver smiled. Hayashi Yoshiki handed over a generous tip and declined the change with a nod.

"Thanks for the ride."

He stepped out, closed the door gently, and waved as the cab pulled away.

His shoes clicked softly against the pavement as he turned.

That's when he heard it.

BEEP—BEEP—!!

A sharp honk cut through the air.

Headlights flared.

A speeding vehicle charged forward from the far end of the street, its high beams blinding in the dark.

It was headed straight for him.

Hayashi Yoshiki squinted, the harsh white light swallowing his silhouette.

And the car did not slow down.

It accelerated.

 

Chapter 237 - 237: Goodbye, Mr. Mike

Ed Michael drove steadily.Strange cities always felt fresh to him, and driving through unknown places gave him a sense of adventurous pleasure.

He was planning to visit the 3K restaurant owned by Ray Curtis and secretly follow him, hoping to snap some interesting photos.

However, halfway through the drive, his car hit a pothole and jolted violently. The sudden shake knocked over a can of Coke resting on the armrest.

Ed noticed this but couldn't bend down to pick it up while driving—there were vehicles on both sides of him and an intersection ahead.

He stepped on the accelerator and sped through the intersection.

But just as he tried to change lanes and pull over, he realized something was wrong.

The steering wheel felt unusually light.

Surprised, he turned it instinctively. It spun half a circle effortlessly—as if weightless—but the car didn't respond at all.

Startled, Ed quickly let off the gas and moved to brake.

In his panic, his leather-clad foot accidentally kicked the Coke can, which had rolled under the brake pedal. Unbeknownst to him, it had wedged itself tightly. Ed stomped hard—

—but the pedal wouldn't move.

What's going on!?

The vehicle was still speeding, but the road ahead wasn't straight—it curved.

As he veered out of his lane, Ed panicked, wrenching the steering wheel and glancing down in horror.

"Shit!"

He finally saw it—the can of Coke was jammed beneath the brake. He cursed and kicked frantically.

Beep! Beep! Beep!!Horns blared all around him.

The car on his left swerved sharply to avoid him as Ed's vehicle drifted dangerously. He kept kicking, trying in vain to free the pedal.

Bang!!!

A sudden collision from the right slammed into his vehicle. Dazed, he saw stars as his head hit the window.

Now completely out of control, the car veered across the median and into the oncoming lane. Tires screeched, horns wailed, chaos erupted.

On the sidewalk across the street, Hayashi Yoshiki turned his head at the sound.

In the next second, blinding headlights bore down on him.

Twenty meters... fifteen...

The lights shrank; the vehicle loomed larger and larger. Within seconds, Yoshiki saw Ed Michael in the driver's seat—pale, sweating, desperately yanking the wheel.

Bang!

Another sharp impact. The front of the car dipped. The right tire caught, shifting the vehicle's path just slightly.

Yoshiki leapt back—barely.

The rear of the car clipped him, hurling him sideways with tremendous force.

Bang!!!!

The out-of-control vehicle slammed into a nearby building. The explosion of sound was deafening. The windshield shattered into a thousand fragments.

Yoshiki, dazed and in pain, struggled to his feet. Through the broken glass, he saw Ed Michael slumped forward, bloodied. There were no obvious wounds, but...

The seatbelt had snapped at the moment of impact. His cervical spine had taken the full force.

(Goodbye, Mr. Mike...)

Despite the pain, Hayashi Yoshiki smiled.

With his back to the nearby traffic camera, he stepped toward the wreckage. As he drew near, he mouthed something silently to Ed Michael.

The reporter, his head tilted unnaturally from the neck injury, stared at him. His pupils dilated.

He opened his mouth, trying to speak—

—but then the flames came.

From the surveillance footage's angle:

The fire erupted suddenly. Yoshiki, arms limp and stumbling, rushed forward despite his injuries. He reached for the door, trying to help—

—but the door wouldn't budge. It was locked.

The flames intensified.

Yoshiki was forced back. And at that moment—

BOOM!!!

The car exploded. The fireball lit up the entire street.

The blast knocked Yoshiki back like a ragdoll.

He hit the ground hard.

Screams broke out among the onlookers. Cars screeched to a halt.

The flames roared.

After a moment—

"Sir! Are you okay!?"

"How badly are you hurt!?"

"Someone call an ambulance!"

"I already did!"

"There's a fire extinguisher here!!"

Passersby rushed forward. Drivers popped open their trunks to retrieve fire extinguishers.

White powder engulfed the wreckage as they fought the flames.

But it was too late for Ed Michael.His body had already been reduced to a charred corpse, fused to the seat.

Some couldn't bear to look. Others stared in shock.

And then someone recognized him.

"Isn't that the famous detective!?"

"What!?"

"It's Hayashi Yoshiki—!"

"Oh my God!"

A few girls gasped and covered their mouths.

In the middle of the growing crowd, Hayashi Yoshiki sat up slowly, blood trailing from his lips. His usually handsome face was drawn with pain and urgency.

"Danger... don't gather—"

"You're hurt! Stop talking!" a passerby scolded.

"The fire's out!"

"Police are on their way!"

"It's okay now. Hang in there."

More people arrived.

And once he knew the danger had passed, Hayashi Yoshiki lost consciousness.

The ambulances and police sirens howled in the distance, growing closer.

 

 

Chapter 238 - 238: Hayashi Yoshiki's Injury

11:17 PM

As soon as a taxi stopped in front of the hospital, several figures rushed out.

"On the 15th floor!"

Kogoro Mouri ran ahead, followed closely by Ran and Conan.

The hospital was quiet at night, with only a few people milling about.

The three of them hurried to the stairwell and climbed up to the 15th floor. Following the signs, they quickly found a room labeled "Hayashi Yoshiki."

Through the small window in the door, Mouri saw a doctor standing at the bedside, taking notes.

He pushed the door open immediately.

"How is he, Doctor?!"

"Ah, you must be relatives," the doctor said, turning briefly to glance at them before continuing,"Don't worry. The patient is not in any critical danger. However, the explosion impact caused blast-related injuries, including mild internal bleeding, so he'll need bed rest. In addition to abrasions and bruises, the most concerning injury is a distal radius fracture in his right hand—it will require time to heal."

"...How could this happen?"

Ran looked at Hayashi Yoshiki, lying weakly in bed, connected to monitors and an oxygen mask. Her heart ached.

Just two hours ago...

He was smiling so gently, talking about silly things, complaining about his dad's obsession with Yoko Okino...

We said good night, and then—this?

"What exactly happened?" Conan asked, frowning.

They had only just returned to the hotel when they got the sudden call: Hayashi Yoshiki had been hospitalized after an explosion. Without hesitation, they rushed over.

Kogoro Mouri's expression darkened as he looked at Yoshiki's fragile form.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

The group turned and saw Hattori Heiji approaching quickly, with Osaka police inspector Otaki Goro following behind.

"How is he?" Heiji asked immediately.

"The doctor says he's stable," Mouri replied, before turning to Inspector Otaki."Inspector, what happened to Yoshiki?"

"We pulled surveillance footage from the time of the incident. It appears Mr. Hayashi was caught in a serious accident," Otaki explained while setting up his laptop.

With nothing more to add, the doctor exited the room.

Conan stepped forward, eyes focused on the laptop screen.

Otaki Goro played several videos from different traffic and street cameras.

The first clip showed a black car driving normally.

As the footage progressed, the car's movements grew erratic. It failed to turn, then was struck by another vehicle from the left, forcing it into the opposite lane—straight toward a figure standing on the curb.

That figure was Hayashi Yoshiki.

At the last moment, the car's front tire blew out. The sudden shift caused the vehicle to swerve; its rear clipped Yoshiki while the front slammed into a nearby building.

From the footage, it was clear that Yoshiki had taken the hit hard.

He stood up slowly, hands limp—likely when the fracture in his right wrist occurred. Despite the pain, he staggered toward the wrecked vehicle, raising his broken hand to try opening the driver's door.

Ran gasped slightly, her eyes moistening.

But then—the fire ignited.

Flames forced Yoshiki to retreat.

Just seconds later—

BOOM!

The explosion flung Yoshiki back like a ragdoll.

The group watching the footage fell silent.

"That's... impossible..."

"The man driving—that was the guy from the party earlier!"

There were multiple camera angles.

In two of the clips, they clearly saw Ed Michael behind the wheel—frantically turning the steering, the car refusing to respond.

"Yoshiki was in the wrong place at the wrong time..."

"...But what about Ed Michael?" Heiji muttered.

Mouri frowned. "Whether it was the steering failure, the sudden fire, or the explosion… nothing about this feels normal."

"Inspector Otaki," Conan asked, turning, "did you find anything from the car?"

Otaki nodded solemnly.

"The explosion destroyed most of the car's evidence... but we confirmed the steering linkage was disconnected. The fire and explosion were likely caused by a fuel leak in the engine compartment. There's also a possibility that old wiring caused a short circuit."

"...So this could have just been an accident?" Ran asked softly, glancing again at Hayashi Yoshiki—still unconscious and pale.

He looked so frail.

For the first time, she saw him like this.

The ever-capable, composed Yoshiki—who always stayed calm under pressure, always helped her—now lay completely still.

"We still need more investigation to determine the cause," Otaki said, folding his arms."But... Mr. Hayashi may know something."

"What do you mean?"

Conan and Heiji both turned their heads sharply.

Scratching his cheek, Otaki replied,"...Some passers-by who helped bring him in said he whispered something like 'It's dangerous... don't gather...' before losing consciousness."

"...He suspected something."

Both young detectives looked at Hayashi Yoshiki again.

They knew how sharp his mind was. If he said that before passing out...

Just then, footsteps echoed again in the hallway.

Before Heiji could react, Otaki's expression shifted.

"Mr. Honjo!?"

Heiji turned and froze.

"Dad!?"

The man entering the room was none other than Hattori Heizo, Chief of the Osaka Prefectural Police Headquarters.

 

Chapter 239 - 239: I Don’t Think It’s a Coincidence

Leisurely, all Hayashi Yoshiki could see was the white ceiling.

The scent of disinfectant lingered in the air.His chest felt tight. His whole body ached, and his sore right hand felt unusually heavy—probably because it had been immobilized.

Still, Hayashi Yoshiki wasn't concerned.He already knew this was going to happen.

"Brother Yoshiki, you're awake!"

Ran, who had been standing nearby, noticed his eyes open and stepped forward with relief.

Yoshiki, freshly conscious, looked groggy.He stared blankly at Ran's face.

Such a pretty face, he thought, filled with the innocence of a high school girl.But she looked tired, as though she hadn't rested properly.

He continued staring.

"Brother Yoshiki?"

"...Excuse me, who are you?"

He looked at her blankly.

In an instant, Ran's face turned pale. She panicked, pointing at herself and opening her mouth to speak—but then she saw him give a faint smile.

"Did you fall for it?"

"...Brother Yoshiki!"

"Sorry."His voice was soft and slow, weakened by injury."You looked so drained... I couldn't help but tease you."

"You call that a joke!?"There was a scolding tone in her voice.

But she let out a breath of relief and sat down, placing a hand over her heart.

Yoshiki continued to smile faintly.

"...Where are Uncle Mouri and the others?"

"Dad went back to the hotel to grab our things. He's moving here. Conan and Heiji went out to get breakfast."

"I see."

Yoshiki nodded."Sorry... I caused so much trouble. I was supposed to return to Mihua in a few days, wasn't I?"

"What are you saying, Brother Yoshiki?"

Ran frowned.

Her slim, willow-like brows furrowed in genuine concern.

"Why would you say something like that?"

"What's wrong?"

"Talking about causing us trouble... It was me who's caused you more trouble. You even saved me during that dangerous moment. And I even forgot you don't like cake...""You always think about others, never about yourself."

"..."

"As someone who's always been looked after by you, I won't be happy just being protected. I want to be able to do something for you too, Yoshiki."

She looked at him earnestly.

Yoshiki met her eyes, then smiled gently."The sun's really nice today."

"Eh?"

His gaze was soft, unusually gentle, almost dreamlike. Ran was momentarily confused.

It really was a beautiful day.The sunlight poured in through the window, casting a golden glow over her long, smooth black hair. She looked stunning—her simple, innocent beauty glowing softly in the light. Anyone would be captivated.

But the moment passed as Conan and Hattori Heiji returned.

Seeing Yoshiki awake, they hurried to his side.

Ran briefly wondered whether he'd pretend to have amnesia with them too.

But he didn't.

He simply smiled and said he was fine.

"So… that incident last night—what do you think?" Hattori Heiji asked, eyes sharp.

—He and Conan had wanted to visit the scene last night but had been stopped by Heiji's father, Hattori Heizo.

"Nothing much. Just an accident," Yoshiki replied with a soft smile.

"Don't give me that!" Heiji snapped. "There's definitely something fishy about this—!"

Not just because of what Yoshiki said before he fainted, but even Heizo showing up and stopping them from investigating... It was all too suspicious.

"Hattori-kun, Brother Yoshiki needs to rest!" Ran interrupted.

"..."

Heiji fell silent.

He exchanged a glance with Conan.

Just then, Hattori Heizo entered the ward.

The Osaka Police Chief narrowed his eyes. Without even glancing at his son, he said:"Heiji. You and the boy—step out for a while."

"..."

Heiji, surprisingly, obeyed.

He left with Conan, motioning silently to Ran, who followed them out with a worried look.

"Close the door," Heizo added.Heiji frowned—he'd been planning to leave a crack open to eavesdrop.

But once they were outside, they found someone else standing near the door—Toyama Ginjiro, Kazuha's father.

"Forget it. I'm watching you," Ginjiro said, arms crossed."Don't even think about eavesdropping."

"..."

Back inside the room, Heizo walked up to the bedside and looked down at Hayashi Yoshiki.

"How do you feel, Mr. Hayashi?"

"I'll be fine after some rest."

"That's good."Heizo opened his narrowed eyes, revealing a piercing gaze."Was it him again?"

"Yes. There's no mistake. It was him..."

Despite his pain, Yoshiki tried to sit up—but Heizo pressed him back gently.

"No. The doctor said you're staying in bed."

"...I never told anyone I was coming to Osaka."

Heizo understood immediately.

Yoshiki had come quietly, yet someone still found him.

—The "accident" had originated in Osaka, which meant the Tokyo task force had involved Osaka officers. As Chief of the Osaka Prefectural Police, Heizo had been watching the case closely.

He also knew Yoshiki was serving as a consultant on the case.

"We're tracking all of Ed Michael's movements and investigating the car he drove. So far, nothing suspicious has come up."

He paused.

"Was this a message? A warning? Or just a coincidence?"

"I don't think it's a coincidence," Hayashi Yoshiki replied firmly.Then, without missing a beat, he added:"Could you call Inspector Odagiri for me?"

"Understood."

Hattori Heizo picked up his phone without hesitation.

 

 

Chapter 240 - 240: The Murderer Is Not Human

"That was definitely not an accident. It was directed at me."

"But the other party didn't intend to kill me."

As soon as the call connected, Hayashi Yoshiki got straight to the point.

Odagiri Toshiro fell silent.

He had already heard about Hayashi Yoshiki's sudden accident the previous night. The surveillance footage and preliminary investigation from the Osaka Police Department had been forwarded to the task force immediately.

After a moment, Odagiri spoke in a heavy voice:

"...I'm very sorry for involving you."

"There's no need to apologize to me, Minister Odagiri."

Under the calm gaze of Hattori Heizo, Hayashi Yoshiki's expression remained serene.

He turned his head slightly to look out the window.

The sky outside was clear and blue, and his black eyes reflected it—bright and without shadow.

"Joining the task force was my own decision."

"In fact, I'm honored to be part of it."

"Do you know why I became a detective?"

"To be honest... I've always considered myself someone with talent. I thought maybe—if I became a detective—I could use that to help people."

"Whether it's bringing cunning criminals to justice or helping the innocent clear their names, I think that's meaningful work."

"And now, we're dealing with a murderer lurking in the shadows, killing people using cruel and unexpected methods. Even if his victims are 'bad people'... murder is still murder. I can't just sit back and do nothing."

Though his voice was weak due to his injuries, both Hattori Heizo and Odagiri Toshiro could clearly feel his unwavering resolve.

There was a moment of silence.

"I understand, Mr. Hayashi."

"With your help, we'll find the killer and bring them to justice!"

"That's right," Hayashi smiled. "How's Hakuba doing?"

"Director Hakuba's son? He's fine. Nothing happened to him."

Odagiri paused.

"Do you think he might have been targeted?"

"...I'm not sure. But it's possible."

Hayashi's tone grew serious:

"That bizarre killing method—it was unmistakably him. And there's no doubt it was aimed at me. But he didn't intend to kill me. It might've been a provocation... or a warning."

"If you think about it, the closest I've come to the task force publicly was probably at that intersection..."

"—When we opened the mocking invitation the killer left, I went to the scene with Hakuba."

"It's possible the murderer was watching us from the crowd that day."

"We considered that too," Odagiri replied.

"But the surveillance footage and witness interviews from that day turned up nothing. No suspicious individuals, no vehicles out of place."

"Minister Odagiri... what really troubles me is that I told no one I was coming to Osaka yesterday."

"..."

"We've always believed that the killer's 'accidental' murders require intricate planning and meticulous preparation. But this time... it didn't feel like that."

On the other end of the call, Odagiri frowned deeply.

He didn't doubt Yoshiki's words—but if they were true, it was deeply disturbing.

An elaborate "accident" carried out so quickly, without any preparation?

That's not just clever... it's almost supernatural.

But Hayashi Yoshiki's deductions were always on point—and this one made chilling sense.

Odagiri glanced down at the investigation file in his hand.

It detailed every move Ed Michael made after arriving from the U.S. the night before.

A foreigner, murdered in dramatic fashion, just one day after entering Japan...

And how did the killer know Hayashi Yoshiki would be in Osaka that day?

The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Odagiri closed the file and ended the call, having no answers to give.

Hayashi Yoshiki let out a small sigh.

Talking too long in his condition was exhausting.

"Director Hattori, at the 3K World Restaurant's cocktail party last night, Ed Michael said, 'I don't know who sent me the invitation, but I'm grateful to them.'

Maybe we can investigate that angle."

"Understood. Mr. Hayashi, please focus on your recovery."

Hattori Heizo stood up, replying with full sincerity.

He looked at the young man before him—only a few years older than his own son—and felt both admiration and sorrow.

"We'll continue the investigation and update you as soon as we have something."

With that, Hattori Heizo left.

Left alone, Hayashi Yoshiki ignored the pain in his left hand. He raised it slowly, forming a fist... then relaxing it... again and again.

Writing with his left hand would be fine.

He wasn't foolish enough to injure both hands and render himself unable to write in the Death Note.

As for what he'd just told Odagiri—that the murderer was "more efficient than expected"—that was all intentional.

[The murderer possesses inhuman abilities]

Leaving that impression with the task force would be useful for his future plans.

As long as he didn't slip up, no one would suspect him.

In fact, the more supernatural the murderer seemed, the less likely people would look at those closest to the case. After all, someone capable of such killings... couldn't possibly be just a man.

People constrained by limited knowledge and imagination often thought like that.

Not long after Heizo left, Ran returned.

She sat by the bed and asked how he was feeling.

"I'm okay... What about Heiji and Conan?"

"They rushed off suddenly and didn't tell me where they were going."

"Is that so?"

Hearing that, Yoshiki recalled Conan's position just before he left. After a moment of thought, he smiled faintly.

Not long after, the dark-skinned Osaka boy and the little detective returned.

They looked troubled—but tried hard to hide it.

"So, what did my dad tell you, little brother?"

Heiji walked up, casually trying to make conversation.

But as he did, Conan—standing beside him—quietly reached under the bed... and removed the listening bug he'd hidden there.