Complete silence descended over Daikoku PA. The quiet was so absolute that a dropped pin would have echoed like thunder. Finally, someone broke the spell:
"We need to check on Fujiwara and Saionji!"
Everyone snapped out of their shocked stupor and rushed toward their vehicles, including Gustave, who pulled Conan toward his Aston Martin.
The moment the explosion had occurred, Gustave had immediately extended his Observation Haki to the crash site. What he sensed confirmed his worst fears—both Takuya Fujiwara and Hajime Saionjiwere beyond saving. At the instant of impact, even before the explosion, both drivers had lost their life force completely. There was no possibility of survival.
He practically threw Conan into the passenger seat, fastened the seatbelt with practiced efficiency, floored the accelerator, and roared out alongside the main convoy.
More than a hundred people had come to witness tonight's race, arriving in seventy or eighty vehicles—the cheapest being a Porsche 718. Now this automotive armada charged onto the Metropolitan Expressway like a mechanized cavalry charge.
Tomokazu Yamashita took point, his Nissan GT-R R34 leading the pack with exhaust flames shooting from its tailpipes. Clearly, this R34 had also received significant modifications.
Gustave started in the middle of the pack, but through continuous acceleration—especially maintaining speeds over 200 kilometers per hour through corners—he overtook numerous modified machines and reached the first echelon. However, he couldn't close the final gap to the leaders. After all, the eight or nine cars at the front all produced over 800 horsepower. On a route dominated by long straights, performance gaps weren't easily overcome through skill alone.
"Conan, what's your assessment?" Gustave asked while maintaining formation with the lead group.
"I'm not certain, but this feels like a genuine accident," Conan replied after careful consideration.
"Why?"
"Logically, if something was going to happen, it should have occurred at the Tatsumi PA curve. That's a sharp turn, and both cars were traveling at extreme speeds. You saw from the live broadcast that Takuya Fujiwara nearly lost control there."
"If he had crashed at that location, the cause would be obvious—excessive speed combined with the inherent instability of high-horsepower rear-wheel-drive vehicles like the Dodge Viper SRT. Even stock versions are prone to losing control, let alone heavily modified ones."
"With all those factors combined, it would have been almost inevitable for something to go wrong at that curve."
"But to lose control when they were practically at the finish line? And it was Saionji who lost it first. The Pagani Zonda F has much better stability than the Viper SRT. It doesn't make sense no matter how you analyze it."
The scene of Saionji foaming at the mouth hadn't appeared on the main screen—after all, the cameras were focused forward, not on the drivers themselves. Therefore, Conan believed the accident wasn't caused by human intervention.
Gustave nodded thoughtfully. Conan's reasoning was sound, especially since he hadn't witnessed Saionji's mysterious collapse. The foaming at the mouth was information only Gustave possessed through his supernatural awareness.
But based on his extensive experience with Detective Conan episodes, Gustave remained convinced this was no accident—it had to be murder. As long as Conan was present, natural deaths simply didn't occur.
"We'll see. Let's get to the scene first."
Gustave focused on his driving, maintaining pace with the lead echelon.
When they arrived at the crash site, many people were already present and the fire had been extinguished.
Hakozaki PA, the finish line, hosted quite a gathering tonight—members of the Mid Night Racing Team club. Since Hakozaki PA was adjacent to the C1 Inner Loop, it served as a paradise for JDM enthusiasts who prioritized handling over raw power.
Tonight's battle between Takuya Fujiwara and Hajime Saionjihad also attracted many Mid Night Racing Team members as spectators.
When the collision occurred, Mid Night Racing Team club members had immediately rushed to fight the flames with fire extinguishers. However, the blaze had been more intense than anyone could have imagined. By the time they'd succeeded in suppressing it, both occupants had been burned beyond recognition.
If the chassis hadn't remained relatively intact, it would have been impossible to distinguish between Takuya Fujiwara's and Hajime Saionji's remains.
When Gustave and Conan stepped out of the Aston Martin, they saw dry chemical powder coating the asphalt and two charred vehicle frames in the center of the devastation.
Confronted with this scene, Gustave could only sigh at the cruel irony of fate. At the final moment, Takuya Fujiwara must have been accelerating beyond 350 kilometers per hour. At such speeds, both drivers would have died instantly upon impact, sparing them the agony of burning alive.
"Master! Master Takuya!"
When Tomokazu Yamashita exited his vehicle, he didn't even bother closing the door or shutting off the engine—he simply rushed forward in desperation.
Upon witnessing the horrific accident scene, Tomokazu Yamashita stumbled and collapsed to his knees, continuously calling out for Takuya Fujiwara. His grief was so profound that even hardened street racers found themselves wiping away tears.
After crying for several minutes, Tomokazu Yamashita suddenly fainted, collapsing unconscious onto the pavement.
"Tomo! Tomo!" Seeing Yamashita fall, Kondo immediately rushed over and cradled him, shouting his name desperately.
"Conan, I'm starting to think this really was just an accident," Gustave observed, studying Tomokazu Yamashita's expression. The young man's grief appeared completely genuine—he clearly hadn't expected Takuya Fujiwara's death, and this didn't seem like the reaction of a murderer.
"See? Not every death is a homicide!" Conan replied with exasperation. "Can we please stop assuming someone's been murdered every time there's a fatality? Sometimes people do die from natural causes, you know!"
From an aerial perspective, the accident site was surrounded by seventy to eighty parked vehicles that had completely blocked the Metropolitan Expressway. Fortunately, traffic was light at this hour—otherwise, the disruption would have caused massive gridlock throughout Tokyo.
The motorists trapped behind the convoy didn't dare complain. These were all luxury vehicles, and many had heard of the Bayshore Route Mid Night club's reputation. Everyone understood that the club members held prominent social positions—crossing these young elites would be unwise.
Shortly after Gustave's group reached the accident scene, sirens wailed in the distance. Someone had obviously called the police.
Under normal circumstances, Mid Night club members would scatter the moment police arrived. However, tonight no one made any move to flee. They all stood quietly around the crash site, as if observing a moment of silence for the fallen racers.
Since the highway was blocked, the officers had to run to reach the scene.
"Make way! Make way!" the lead middle-aged officer shouted, but none of the Mid Night members moved aside.
The officer didn't dare take aggressive action—he recognized several faces in the crowd, including the son of his supervisor's supervisor.
"Everyone, please make way for the police!" A man with a crew cut suddenly stepped forward, and the Mid Night members finally parted to allow the officers through.
"Conan, do you know who that crew cut guy is?" Gustave asked quietly.
Conan looked up and replied: "That's Tsukiko—son of the current National Police Agency Commissioner."
"What's the National Police Agency?"
"The National Police Agency is equivalent to France's Ministry of the Interior, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department corresponds to the Paris Police Prefecture, and the National Police Agency Commissioner is comparable to France's Director General of the National Police. Does that make it clearer?"
"I see." Gustave nodded with understanding. No wonder the crew-cut man named Tsukiko had the authority to speak on behalf of the middle-aged officer. With his father's position, he commanded respect even from senior police officials.