The meeting between Akemi Miyano and Ai Haibara was scheduled for the night of the upcoming we
Coordinating with the Public Security Bureau required some effort. Given that I had to squeeze the appointment in between my missions, it was the only available slot.
When I informed Conan-kun, all he said was, "Is that so," in a dry, condescending tone.
"However. Shiho Miyano will not be accompanying you this time. I am the only one who will meet Akemi Miyano-san."
"I do not mind, but you have never actually met Akemi Miyano, have you?"
"A video call will suffice. We will arrange for them to speak that way. My role is merely to verify whether she is actually Vermouth in disguise."
It is a carefully considered plan. Naturally, the possibility of Vermouth being in disguise is Haibara-san's primary concern.
They likely argued at length about the danger of sending Conan alone. I can clearly visualize their conversation.
"Before I meet Akemi Miyano, I would like to briefly greet Shiho-chan."
"Rejected. That girl is traumatized because of you. Is your goal to frighten her unnecessarily?"
"What a pity."
I asked for details, and he mentioned that she is so terrified she locks herself in Professor Agasa's house all day, refusing to leave. It seems her sleep has been affected as well, and the Professor reportedly stays by her side constantly.
This is the reality of her situation, as I deduced from the stories told by the three children of the Junior Detective League.
I feel truly sorry that I am the cause...
Meanwhile, Conan-kun, whose body still radiated lingering caution, turned his gaze toward me while idly playing with a soccer ball. He watched me with half-lidded eyes, holding a moderate tension that fell just short of outright hostility.
"More importantly, how did you know that Sherry is connected to me, specifically?"
A voice rang out inside me, tilting his head in wonder at the very same question.
── I want to know that too. Is it your usual predictive ability?
── Well, yes. That is the gist of it.
Neither of them seems to suspect that I know "Sherry" has shrunk into Ai Haibara, or that she is hiding with Edogawa Conan—even though I have seen Haibara-san's appearance.
Naturally, no one would assume I had figured out such an absurd story as shrinking.
However, that assumption will hinder future cooperation. If I do not know that Haibara-san is Shiho Miyano, I lose my pretext for protecting her.
I smiled and answered with a hint of implication.
"First, I knew what she looked like as a child. The other reason... is intuition. Perhaps it is because the impression I receive from her—visuals aside—is the very same impression you give me."
"... What nonsense. That is hardly an explanation."
His agitation lasted only a split second. He skillfully evaded the clear implication behind my words—"You have shrunk too, haven't you?"—and chose to ignore it.
I did not push any further either; I merely slid the information across, as if dancing on thin ice.
"One should not underestimate intuition. I managed to dodge a sniper shot from a blind spot relying on intuition alone."
"Wait, wait, aren't you embellishing your stories? That is nothing but pure coincidence, don't you think?"
"I am not exaggerating; it is the truth."
"You really are a natural-born liar!"
Conan shouted, looking at the adult before him with utter contempt. It is not a lie!!! It is the truth!!!
While I wept internally over Conan-kun never believing me, Mr. Furuya's exasperated voice delivered the finishing blow: "Even I wouldn't believe something like that."
Even when you see it with your own eyes, you still do not believe it? Did Holmes not say that once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? Just accept it quietly! My intuition! It covers everything!!
●○●○●
It happened shortly after that standoff with Conan.
Snow was falling that day, and the air was unseasonably cold—frigid enough to freeze the tips of one's toes.
It was the day of a "Golden Members" meeting—a team consisting of Gin, Vodka, and myself, assigned to a specific mission. A mission involving this trio is only authorized when the Organization demands absolute perfection.
I walked over the light accumulation of snow, heading toward our objective with Gin. When I saw the trampled snow around Gin's Porsche 356A, I thought nothing of it at the time.
Given that this vintage car from decades ago is still driven regularly, such occurrences were not unusual.
However, the moment I stepped into the car, my heightened senses picked up a subtle disturbance that an ordinary person would never notice—the wavelength of a suspicious radio signal.
When I once demonstrated this skill to Mr. Furuya, he quipped dryly, "Are you a bat or something?" Transmigrators, by the nature of their souls, are sensitive to radio waves. I do not understand the logic behind it either, but it must be so.
Thus, the suspicious signal I sensed inside the car... was a listening device. And in all likelihood, it undoubtedly belonged to Conan-kun.
"What is it, Wolfdog? Is something wrong?"
"...Nothing. I was just thinking how fortunate it is that we switched this car to winter tires a short while ago."
"Thanks for your effort on that. Vodka was tied up with a mission and couldn't get away."
"Yeah. Sorry to trouble you with changing Big Bro's tires, Bourbon."
"No, no. It was hardly any trouble at all."
From this point on, I must choose my words with extreme caution, assuming Conan-kun is listening. This is undeniably annoying, even if it follows the original storyline. Perhaps I can get away with a few subtle warnings.
At that moment.
Gin's smartphone vibrated, emitting a sharp, ear-piercing sound.
It seemed he had a call. The caller was... Pisco.
From what I could hear, they were scheduled to meet Pisco at the Haido City Hotel at 6:00 PM.
I recall the matter involved a politician cooperating with the Black Organization. He had engaged in reckless behavior that made him a target of police investigation.
Thus, the plan was to eliminate him preemptively to prevent the police from tracing the trail back to the Organization.
It was a routine mission, so to speak.
I am not usually assigned assassination duties, but I often encounter such work when providing support as an escort for executives.
And then, Gin finally discovered the listening and tracking device wrapped in gum.
Along with it, he found a strand of Haibara-san's reddish-brown hair.
A savage, mocking grin spread across Gin's face; he looked positively elated.
He must have been in an unbearably foul mood during the three days since he learned of Sherry's escape.
Poor Vodka.
I glanced quickly at the gum Conan-kun had planted and interjected:
"Using a wiretap... how incredibly reckless. Though for us hunters, it is certainly convenient."
My words contained a deliberate misdirection aimed at Gin, who was consumed by the delusion that Sherry must have planted the device.
The truth is, the naturally cautious Sherry would never have easily attempted such a provocative act.
"Heh heh heh. Although it's not part of the plan, we might have to put you to work this time."
"Right. Do you mind if I take this listening device?"
"Huh? Does this filthy gum interest you?"
"Judging by its appearance, its specs differ significantly from standard commercial products. I'm thinking of dismantling it for scientific study."
I explained this to a disgusted-looking Vodka while swiftly collecting the evidence!
Using one of Professor Agasa's inventions instead of a market-available product is truly reckless.
"It would be troublesome if we were tracked, so I will get off here with the device. I'll dismantle it and then head to the rendezvous point, so I will be slightly delayed."
"...Tch. Let me know if you find anything."
"Understood."
The cold is intensifying today.
I stepped out onto the road alone amidst the swirling snow, watching the black Porsche 356A drive away.
Then, I addressed the listening device directly:
"Don't be too reckless, Conan-kun."
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