Three hours earlier.
Shinjuku — Shirahato Pharmaceuticals.
The Porsche 356A slowly drove into the underground parking garage. After stopping in a secluded corner, Vodka hurried out of the car and rushed to the passenger side to open the door for Gin.
Gin lifted his leg to get out—
—and instantly, a searing pain shot through his back.
For an ordinary person, it would have been unbearable.
For Gin, it merely caused a slight frown.
Vodka trembled as he reached out to help, but a single cold glance from Gin froze him in place.
Vodka was drenched in sweat. The drive back had taken less than twenty minutes—he had practically forced sparks out of the accelerator of that old classic car.
But the sweat wasn't just from the speed.
More than anything, it was fear.
His own foolish mistake had dragged Gin into the sea of flames and gotten him injured.
Half of Gin's precious, striking blond hair was gone, exposing a part of his neck he had never shown before. The sight gave Vodka a strange, forbidden sensation—as though he were peeking at something he shouldn't see.
"Vodka," Gin asked coldly,"what are you looking at?"
"N-No—nothing!"
Vodka's liver nearly jumped out of his body. He lowered his head immediately.
Gin's gaze lingered on the top of his head for a full three seconds before finally shifting away.
Staring toward the entrance of the parking garage, Gin's mind—despite the explosive battle he had just endured—had already cooled.
Reason reclaimed the high ground.
"Are there any security personnel here who were around back then?"
Back then?
Vodka froze for a moment before understanding.
Gin's words were vague, but paired with recent events, it was obvious he meant Rye.
Normally, Vodka wouldn't have caught on so quickly—but right now, driven by fear of being killed by his boss, his brain was running at rare, maximum capacity.
"I—I don't know," Vodka replied after hesitating, wiping sweat from his face.
Even if he understood the implication, trying to recall staff rotations from several years ago was asking too much.
Gin's eyes flickered slightly.
He wasn't as furious as Vodka had imagined.
Reaching into his pocket, Gin pulled out a cigarette. Vodka reacted instantly, snapping open a lighter and lighting it for him.
Gin exhaled a thin stream of smoke, then turned and walked toward a side door.
"Gradually transfer all security personnel with over two years of service to other locations. Bring in fresh blood."
He paused.
"Use normal channels."
"Yes, boss."
As cold, measured footsteps echoed down the corridor—accompanied by Vodka's deep voice, subdued but still unmistakable—inside the laboratory, a young woman surrounded by several researchers in white coats slowly changed her expression.
Hesitation flashed across her eyes.
Then resolve.
She had short, tea-colored curls that reached just past her ears. When she lowered her head slightly, it became difficult to read her expression. Her features were delicate, her skin pale, and her pupils a rare, icy blue.
Her natural aura was cool—almost distant.
A white lab coat draped over a reddish-brown knit sweater, paired with light linen trousers. Her attire was simple, yet it was clear she had excellent taste.
Miyano Shiho.
Without a word, she stuffed the research report in her hands into someone else's arms and strode straight for the laboratory door.
"Chief Miyano—!"
The person holding the report was momentarily stunned, but upon seeing who stood in the corridor outside, they wisely closed their mouth.
"Sherry?"
Vodka turned in confusion.
This was the first time he'd seen something like this. Normally, Sherry didn't fear Gin—but she always avoided him.
Gin, however, didn't even spare her a second glance. He continued walking as if she didn't exist.
"Gin!" Miyano Shiho demanded, meeting his gaze head-on."Where is my sister? I haven't seen her for three weeks!"
Gin paused.
He turned his head slightly, his eyes cold as he looked down at her unwavering stare.
"Heh," he said."You'll see her."
His footsteps resumed, fading into the distance.
Miyano Shiho's mood darkened.
But when she noticed Gin's abruptly shortened blond hair—and the tattered state of his clothing—she froze.
Was Gin… injured?
Had he run into someone troublesome?
Despite his dismissive, cruel attitude, Miyano Shiho stood there for a moment longer, took a deep breath, and ultimately returned to the lab.
For her sister.
Three weeks… was only one or two missed meetings compared to normal.
She was worried—but she didn't believe the organization would dare do anything to her sister yet.
Just wait a little longer…
Beika Town, Second District — The Kudo Residence.
After changing into house slippers at the entryway, Conan led Shimizu Koji into the main hall, enthusiastically introducing the house.
"The door on the left is the dining room! On the right is the living room—there's an awesome TV inside!"
His tone had fully shifted into that of a child.
Just as Gin's rationality had returned once he calmed down, so had Conan's caution.
Although Shimizu Koji's life-and-death battle with the men in black had proven he was an enemy of Conan's enemies, that alone wasn't enough.
Conan had no intention of revealing his true identity.
"Hey, Shimizu-nii, do you like reading? That door over there leads to a huge study! My cousin said his dad personally designed it!"
"Not interested."
Shimizu Koji's indifferent response made Conan purse his lips in mild annoyance. He was used to the study himself, but he still felt a bit proud of it when showing it off to others.
"Uh… this is the staircase. Behind it is a corridor with three rooms—the kitchen, bathroom, and toilet. That hallway also connects directly to the dining room."
Conan's enthusiasm noticeably cooled.
Thanks to his explanation, Shimizu Koji quickly grasped the layout of the villa.
Walking into the living room, Shimizu Koji casually set his suitcase aside, stretched to loosen his body, and then unapologetically dropped into a soft armchair.
Conan followed and sat down across from him.
"Hm? Why are you still here?"
Only now did Shimizu Koji truly relax.
Looking at Conan's unusually attentive behavior, he didn't know what the kid was plotting—but that didn't stop him from teasing him on a whim.
Conan froze.
He slowly turned his head, staring at Shimizu Koji's innocent-looking face as his eyelid twitched uncontrollably.
Letting Shimizu Koji stay here wasn't just because the man had become "homeless" like him—or because of his overwhelming combat ability.
Conan also planned to use this opportunity to subtly extract information from him—about Hirota Masami and those men in black.
Although he'd arrived too late, it was obvious that Hirota Masami had connections to the very organization that shrank him.
And Shimizu Koji was clearly closely connected to her.
"Caw—caw—"
Outside the window, cold moonlight hung high in the night sky.
A lone crow, eyes glowing red, perched on a power line, letting out a harsh, grating cry.