Inspector Megure was shot with a crossbow!
The call from the Metropolitan Police Department came while we were on our way to an outing with the Detective Boys.
When Detective Mouri and I rushed to the hospital, we found Inspector Megure lying in bed, dressed in a hospital gown.
I recalled that his real name is Jūzō Megure, and that he was targeted to correspond with the number 13.
Fortunately, it seems his belly fat protected him, and he looked surprisingly comfortable resting there.
One might assume a gun would be deadlier, but our location—Japan—was a blessing in that regard.
Had the attack been carried out with a gun rather than a crossbow, the bullet would likely have pierced his internal organs, and in the worst-case scenario, he would have died.
That said, a crossbow makes a noise when fired, and the bolt travels at a speed so slow it's almost yawn-inducing.
One could dodge something like that in their sleep.
No sooner had I muttered this than an exasperated voice echoed in my head: (You are the only one who could actually do that.)
A joke, merely a joke. My senses aren't that superhuman.
While I was holding this internal dialogue with Mr. Furuya, the conversation around us shifted seamlessly to Kogoro Mouri's marksmanship during his days on the force.
Was Kogoro Mouri's skill with a gun mentioned frequently in the original story?
I don't recall clearly, but Mr. Furuya immediately surfaced, praising Detective Mouri with a bright smile.
Lately, we've been switching who takes the surface based on our respective moods at any given moment.
When I fall silent, Mr. Furuya emerges; conversely, when he is lost in thought or distracted, I take over the conversation.
This flexible arrangement ensures we can act smoothly, even in unexpected situations.
「That is truly impressive, Master Mouri!」
「Oh, please. That's all ancient history!」
For once, likely due to Inspector Megure's presence, Detective Mouri was unusually humble. Yet, his expression didn't carry the usual smugness or pride one might expect.
Undoubtedly, the reality that he shot his wife while she was held hostage—unavoidable as it was—still weighs heavy on his heart.
Inside me, Mr. Furuya nodded, his expression tinged with bitterness.
(It is truly impressive. Even I couldn't break his record at the Police Academy.)
(You!? That's a surprise... true professionals really do hide in unexpected places.)
It seems Mr. Furuya's pride is precisely what makes that defeat such a bitter memory for him.
If we judge by accuracy alone, it proves he is an exceptionally skilled marksman by general standards.
Incidentally, my own marksmanship is abysmally poor; whenever I fire a gun, every single shot misses the target in a truly woeful display.
To put it simply: it is a level of incompetence that would make Daisuke Jigen—having come to check on me—shake his head in silence and turn right back around.
How rude.
I mentally reviewed the upcoming sequence of events.
Targets are being chosen based on a countdown corresponding to playing cards.
Number 13 was Inspector Megure, and 12 was the attorney Eri Kisaki (the Queen).
And next is Dr. Agasa with number 11, isn't it?
I have no connection to Eri Kisaki, so protecting her was out of the question, but it wouldn't seem odd for me to be around Dr. Agasa.
It will only take a few days; perhaps I should stick close to him for a while.
Three days after the incident.
An uninvited guest arrived at Dr. Agasa's house while he was performing maintenance on the turbo-engine skateboard.
The standard electronic chime—"Ding-dong"—signaled a visitor's arrival.
Yet, what seeped in from just outside the garden was a distinct malicious intent—bloodlust.
The boy, Conan, was present as well, though it seemed he couldn't sense it from this distance.
I volunteered to answer the door in his stead, taking control of the situation indirectly.
I opened the door to Agasa's house with an air of relaxation, loosening my posture to appear as defenseless as possible.
「Don't open it! Amuro-san!!」 Conan shouted.
A sharp shadow came rushing at me.
Ah, too slow. Slow enough to make me yawn.
I swatted down the incoming crossbow bolt with a light flick of my left hand.
I could have caught it, but I didn't want to risk any friction burns.
The deflected bolt snapped in two with a dry crack and struck the surface of the door.
I am also unarmed, yet I can manage this with perfect ease.
Conan stared at me, his eyes wide with shock.
「Unbelievable... That wasn't something you're supposed to be able to block.」
「Your tranquilizer darts are harder to evade than that.」
「Give me a break...」
While Conan turned his face away in dismay, the culprit did a double-take—then a triple-take—staring at me before violently revving his motorcycle and speeding off.
Conan suddenly snapped back to reality, shoved me aside, and dashed out.
「You won't get away!」
He hit the switch on his newly repaired turbo-engine skateboard and shot off like a rocket in pursuit.
I stood there, watching his back, then turned to Dr. Agasa, who came running up, panting: 「A-Are you alright, Amuro-kun!!?」. I sank into thought.
Ms. Haibara (Ai) emerged from inside, wearing a concerned expression to see what was happening.
(Shall we kill him?)
(No, we must leave this case to the Metropolitan Police Department. It doesn't require our intervention.)
(True. Perhaps we'll settle for backing up Conan. That said... I'm not very good at holding back my strength.)
I started sprinting after Conan while making a quick call to the MPD to give them a brief sitrep.
I vaulted over the fence of the Agasa residence, scrambled up to a roof using a wall-jump, and began bounding across rooftops, trees, and walls at top speed.
Naturally, I can't match the raw speed of the turbo skateboard, but we were in a residential district.
In a maze of tight turns where building momentum is difficult, and during a chase like this, that board can likely only utilize a tenth of its true performance.
I tracked the distinctive whine of Conan's skateboard engine and soon spotted his small figure ahead.
「Hey there. Find the culprit?」
「I'm contacting the Detective Boys right n— Wait, you! Where did you just drop from!?」
「Where? From atop that traffic light.」
Having descended from a nearby roof using the traffic signal as a foothold, I left Conan dumbfounded once again.
You do the exact same thing in the movies all the time, Conan!
His distraction didn't last long, however; Conan's eyes narrowed sharply as a transmission came through his Detective Boys badge.
「So the culprit is definitely that way! Listen, you stay with Dr. Agasa. He was the primary target, after all.」
「That's not fair. I made it all the way here.」
「I don't want you killing the culprit! Just stay put and be sensible!」
Internally, Mr. Furuya and I began to chant in a hush: (It's just a job, nothing more!) (Exactly! No discrimination!), though I didn't voice it aloud.
After seeing Conan speed off, I trudged back to the Agasa residence with heavy steps.
Incidentally, upon my return, I received a blistering lecture from Inspector Megure: 「You chased the culprit?! You fool!!!」
Having listened to his sermon—which masked genuine concern behind the anger of "You could have been killed!"—I found I had no way to retort.
Ultimately, an assassin wielding a crossbow ranks no higher than a "cute squirrel" on my threat scale.
What a stupid squirrel.
Remember this. I will take you down at the "Aqua Crystal" marine facility in a way that won't kill you, but will certainly cause you a great deal of pain.
And so, the sun set on the day as I directed my animosity toward an unexpected target.
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