books44 Chapter 285 Brother Heimen, my dad is going to die at home!
Chapter 285 Brother Heimen, my dad is going to die at home!
Beep, beep, beep.
"Hello? This is the Mouri Detective Agency." A childish voice came from the microphone.
In the dimly lit living room of his own house, Nakai took another swig of beer and scratched the back of his head: "It's me, Nakai, whom I met today. Kid, you asked an adult in your family to answer the phone."
"Are you looking for Uncle Mori? He went to the izakaya and hasn't come back yet. Why don't you tell me first?"
"Tsk, why did you have to pick this time! What I'm about to say is a matter of life and death; I could be killed any second now! This isn't something a child should hear!"
Silently, the handle was turned, and a dark figure slowly approached, following the sound of the conversation. It arrived at the living room door, its bloodshot eyes fixed on Zhongjing.
The moonlight illuminated the letter and photograph in Nakai's hand, making them shine brightly. He pondered for a moment, then clicked his tongue with a bitter expression:
"Ugh, this is such a headache... Oh right, since you know Mr. Kuroba's phone number, I'll talk to him."
Upon hearing this, Conan scratched his head in distress:
That's even more unfortunate, because the guy who went to the izakaya with the uncle was none other than Kuromon!
But judging from his anxious tone, it would be terrible if his life were really in danger!
It's too late to make a call now, but if it's to save someone... Brother Heimen definitely wouldn't mind!
Afraid the other end would hang up, Conan hurriedly shouted into the receiver, "Um, Kuromon is at my house right now! I'm coming to find him!"
"Brother Heimen! Someone is looking for you!"
He placed the microphone on the table, deliberately sprinting around to create a sound effect of approaching from afar, and adjusted the voice changer's tone:
"Hello, I'm Haruya Kuromon. Mr. Nakai, what can I do for you?"
"Listen to me, that guy tried to kill me! If anything happens to me, it'll definitely be him. You have to investigate for me, uh!"
thump.
The ashtray, which was wrapped in a towel, slipped out of the towel. The dark figure grabbed Nakai's hair, and seeing that he was still breathing, released his grip with satisfaction and threw him down.
"Mr. Nakai? Mr. Nakai! What's happening over there?" "Beep."
Bending down to hang up the phone, the dark figure picked up the envelope and photo from Nakai's hand, his breathing suddenly becoming heavy.
[To the reporter, Mr. Akira Nakai:]
I am very dissatisfied with Yanase's award; how could such a morally corrupt scoundrel dare to show his face in public? Perhaps we share a common goal now that we've met.
These are photos I casually took of accident reports, taken a long time ago, but they are enough to overshadow Yanase's arrival and fame.
If you are interested in collaborating to suppress him, this is my address; you are welcome to visit.
Signature - Kuroba
Suddenly, a tongue of fire shot out from the envelope—
No, wait...! The shadowy figure blinked sharply and realized that it was just a lifelike image of flames in a photograph.
His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he pulled out the photos one by one:
The songstress melting like candle wax beneath the theater's dome, the train bursting and disintegrating mid-air after plunging off the fire bridge, the billowing smoke blackening the last tear of the Virgin Mary statue...
The shadowy figure rubbed his eyes, pulled out the photos from the corner of his head, and compared them one by one in disbelief under the light.
"This one, this one, and this one too...!" The shadowy figure's voice was hoarse and barely audible. "Any one of them would be enough to win the grand prize..."
Suddenly, that person's calm yet strange tone exploded from the depths of my memory: "This is not a retaliation. You and your work are outrageously mediocre."
The photos, filled with vibrant flames, were scattered all over the ground, and under the moonlight, they resembled rings of fire during a witch's execution, enveloping the collapsed shadow.
......
"Mr. Nakai? Mr. Nakai...damn it!"
Based on Nakai's instructions, Conan immediately realized that the other party had probably met with misfortune.
We need to get there as soon as possible, before it gets too late!
He jumped onto the chair, pulled out the business card that Nakai had given him from the desk, and ran downstairs!
The night was cold and windy. After the shops on the commercial street closed, almost no taxis passed by. Conan ran along the street for a distance towards the bustling area before he finally saw a private car approaching.
There's no time to lose, saving lives is the priority!
Conan closed his eyes, steeled his heart, and actually jumped, standing directly in the middle of the road to stop the car!
swoosh-
A screech of brakes, sharp enough to make your teeth ache, pierced your eardrums. Luckily, the car wasn't going fast and came to a smooth stop half a meter away from Conan!
Conan, clinging to the car door with his foot on the front wheel, pressed his face against the window. "Please! Take me to this place! My dad is going to die at home!"
Oops!
As soon as he said it, Conan froze—he had forgotten to turn off the voice changer and was still using Kuromon's voice!
The driver's side window slowly rolled down, revealing half a face shrouded in shadow: "Little friend, you..."
Conan broke out in a cold sweat: It's too close! There's no time to adjust the voice changer!
Just as he was about to pretend to cry to get away with it, the car interior lights suddenly turned on.
"Next time you use that excuse, could you at least change your voice back?" The familiar voice carried a helpless smile. "Shinichi?"
"Huh?" Conan opened his eyes in surprise, "Kuromon-kun!"
But as the lights came on, the figure sitting in the back row became clear—it was Uncle Mori!
Kuromon Haruya pulled him into the car and reassured him without changing his expression, "Don't worry, Mr. Mori is sleeping soundly after drinking too much."
"Huh?" Conan gripped the back of the chair in surprise. "Sleeping in such a weird position?"
After all, Kogoro Mouri sat upright in the back row, with his elbows resting on his knees, looking every bit the classic thinker.
"Maybe you used too much anesthetic, which is why he can sleep in any position."
After hearing his explanation, and recalling how Kogoro Mouri had calmly spun around three times and sat down at previous crime scenes, Conan suddenly felt...
That makes so much sense!
"That's right, then you should drive here quickly!"
Kogoro Mouri, pretending to be asleep with his eyes closed in the back row: ......
Kogoro Mouri: This kid is too easy to fool, isn't he?
Haruya Kuromon's ability to lie without batting an eye is truly admirable. Not to mention that he was asleep, they were still chatting just a second before Conan forced them to stop!
But there was no way around it; Kogoro Mouri didn't want this kid to just act without any scruples! This was a free punching bag that his parents tacitly approved of!
Kuromon started the engine and opened the organization's specially made navigation software: "Conan, could you help Mr. Mori fasten his seatbelt?"
"OK."
Conan jumped over the seat and pounced on Kogoro Mouri, fastening his seatbelt while complaining:
Uncle Mori, really! He reeks of alcohol! Kuromon, on the other hand, looks so clean and refreshed at the izakaya...
wrong!
"Hey, are you driving under the influence of alcohol?!"
His response was a powerful surge of acceleration; if someone were observing from the street, they would have seen the black sedan launch itself forward and speed away.
Whether the phrase "let's drink tea instead of wine," which faded into the engine noise, was heard by the person in the back seat was not something that Yoruichi Kuromon was concerned with.