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"The target has taken a hostage. Requesting a change in the operation plan."
"Team B has reached the designated position and is ready to engage at any time."
"We've found Agent Camel's body. Judging from the wound, he was taken out by a sniper."
"…"
The man in black listened to the reports coming through the radio, a strange smile curling at the corner of his lips.
A sniper, huh. Interesting.
Within the FBI, his sniping skills were unmatched. He'd always longed for a worthy opponent.
"Continue the assault."
"But—"
"Can't you see it already?"
Gripping the radio, the man in black cut his teammate off.
"That man has a scrape on his cheek but no blood. He's clearly wearing a skin mask. Who disguises themselves just to step outside?"
"And someone who can dodge bullets that easily isn't going to be a real hostage. Unless he's an accomplice of the Silver-Haired Devil."
"As for the unidentified girl, avoid hitting her if possible."
"I'll set up the final line of defense at the north exit of the alley. I hope this opponent doesn't disappoint me."
With that, he put away the radio and binoculars, picked up his baseball bag, and headed to his assigned position.
According to the intel, the Silver-Haired Devil wasn't good at long-range sniping.
Which meant the mysterious sniper who killed Camel could only be the man with her.
"Still, you're pretty smart, pretending to be a hostage to get out of this."
"Sometimes using your brain beats relying on violence—"
Bang!
Steven was just about to praise himself when the FBI, having received new orders, suddenly opened fire again.
Cool for less than three seconds. A brutal slap in the face.
They didn't care at all about the hostage's life. American FBI, zero human rights, zero moral code.
"Guess that proves it. When you run into brute force, violence works better than brains!"
Steven pulled out his spiked club and swung it like an electric fan, perfectly blocking every single bullet.
The sight was completely beyond comprehension. The FBI agents all sucked in a sharp breath.
He was turning a spiked club into a literal wall of steel. How were they supposed to fight that?
Behind him, Vermouth remained unusually calm. She'd seen even crazier feats of dodging bullets before. Blocking them with a club actually felt… reasonable.
"…"
"Banana your grandma, you little punks. Come taste my big guy!"
Taking advantage of the moment when the FBI agents below were reloading, Steven casually rubbed some grime off his body, rolled it into a ball, and hurled it downward from his height advantage.
"Jump!"
Vermouth reacted instantly, leaping with him.
Boom!
A violent explosion erupted. Thick smoke billowed, rubble flew everywhere, and the unprepared FBI agents were swallowed by the shockwave. Limbs and wreckage littered the ground.
"Shit, we've run into a real demon. Where did he even get a bomb?"
"Close the perimeter! Don't let him escape!"
"Cars! Run him down!"
The agents who hadn't been caught in the blast stared at their fallen teammates in horror. Shock quickly turned into madness as they abandoned all restraint, desperate for revenge and to reclaim their pride.
Several vehicles roared to life, and the alley became a storm of gunfire.
The south exit was completely sealed. Steven had no choice but to protect Mouri Ran and Vermouth while fighting his way backward.
"You suicidal little cuties. Wasn't it nicer sipping coffee and reading newspapers back in your American offices? You just had to come to this island to die!"
An ambush ahead, pursuers behind.
Steven stared at the two vehicles blocking the way and the FBI agents firing from behind them. Rage surged through him, unleashing his full power.
With the Wolf Brother power belt boosting him, his strength skyrocketed, far beyond anything a human should possess.
"Damn it, should've brought more bullets!"
Vermouth tossed aside her empty pistol and glanced sideways at Steven, who was coiling like a spring.
In this dead end, he was her only lifeline.
"Relax. Leave it to me!"
Steven raised his spiked club and leapt forward, smashing one of the cars to pieces in a blink.
Then he casually lifted another car with one hand and hurled it at the pursuing FBI agents.
Boom!
Flames erupted throughout the alley. Several FBI agents were wiped out, cars and bodies destroyed together.
"What's up? Is this a sci-fi movie?"
The surviving agents stood frozen in disbelief, fear creeping into their hearts.
But with a kill order from above, they could only grit their teeth and keep chasing.
"You go first!"
"These little cuties, I'll take care of them!"
Steven reached out with his merciless iron grip, plucked three strands of hair, and charged straight toward three oncoming vehicles.
Watching him risk his life to protect her, Vermouth was deeply moved and turned to flee without looking back.
What she didn't know was that Steven wasn't risking his life at all. He was just looking for the perfect distance to throw a bomb.
Three hairs were more than enough to blow up the pursuing cars and block the road.
Now!
After calculating speed and distance, Steven tossed the three hairs and walked away without looking back.
A real man never looks at the explosion.
Boom!
Moments later, the ground shook violently. Car fragments and body parts rained through the air.
"Why are you just standing there?"
Steven looked at Vermouth in confusion.
Following her gaze, he saw a man in black ahead, using a car as cover, a sniper rifle trained on them.
Shuichi Akai.
Drawing from his memory of the Detective Conan storyline, Steven recognized him instantly. The same man Mouri Ran had encountered earlier.
In the Conan world, Akai was a monster among snipers. Hitting a moving target from 800 meters away was as easy as drinking water.
He hadn't expected to run into him here.
No wonder Vermouth gave up trying to flee. Once Akai locked onto you, escape was impossible.
"If I'm not mistaken, you're the bomber who blew up the Metropolitan Police Department, right?"
"Mysterious explosives, flawless bomb techniques. I can't think of anyone else."
"A scraped cheek with no blood. How long do you plan to keep up that disguise?"
Akai aimed straight at Steven's heart, his voice icy.
"Sharp. Thanks for the compliment."
Rip.
Steven raised a hand and tore off the skin mask, revealing his true face.
"A free performance review? I'll gladly take it."
Akai's finger tightened on the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet tore through the air, straight toward Steven's heart.
"Haha! You wish you had the skill!"
Steven didn't panic at all, flicking the bullet aside with his spiked club.
"How is that possible? Blocking a bullet with a club. Am I hallucinating?"
Akai's heart jolted, his focus slipping for a split second.
If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he'd never believe someone like this existed.
Seizing the opening, Steven used a booger to blow open the nearby wall. Then he yanked out two more hairs and threw them as cover, grabbed Vermouth's hand, and escaped through the breach.
"Shuichi Akai, I've got business to handle today. Next time we meet, I'll play with you properly!"
Saving people came first.
Mouri Ran was already unconscious with a high fever on his back. After all that chaos, even getting her to the hospital might be too late.
Boom!
A massive explosion cut off the FBI agents trying to pursue.
When the dust settled, Akai stood there, an unfamiliar sense of loss washing over him.
This was his first failure.
"Interesting. Next time we meet, I'll take your life."
Akai put away his sniper rifle and vanished into the rainy night.
Meanwhile.
On a main street, Steven randomly picked a lucky passerby and stole their car.
Hey, if you're going to be a ruthless criminal, you've got to do ruthless criminal things.
Glancing at the unconscious Mouri Ran, Steven floored the gas and sped toward the hospital.
"Congratulations, Host. You have successfully killed more than five FBI agents and escaped the encirclement. Reward—"
At the same time, the system's notification echoed in his mind.
"....."