Faced with the question of the murderer, Abe Feng, Conan chuckled and said, "Although you managed to deceive the detective, the photo will expose your lie."
"The man who looks very similar to Masaki Negishi has one obvious difference—he's left-handed."
Conan looked up at Abe Feng, his tone playful, "Go ahead and surrender, Mr. Police will be here soon."
"Heh… hahaha!!" Abe Feng laughed, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Great, this reasoning is too wonderful! Yes, I killed Masaki Negishi. I, Abe Feng."
He squatted down, touching Conan's head with a smug grin, "But I'm not going to surrender! I'm going to live a leisurely life abroad."
"Huh? But uncle, didn't you just confess to me?" Conan asked innocently.
"Haha... Do you think anyone will believe a child?" Abe scoffed.
"But, uncle..." Conan pulled out a small tape recorder from his pocket, winking at Abe Feng. "If you really said that, the police will definitely believe it."
The tape recorder played Abe Feng's confession aloud: "The one who killed Masaki Negishi was me, Abe Feng!"
"Don't underestimate me, you damn brat!" Abe Feng snarled, his anger rising. He turned on Conan, grabbing his neck, his grip tightening. "Do you know how it feels when my company is about to collapse?"
"Hahaha, it's better to lie than to be lied to!!" Abe's voice became increasingly erratic. "That guy, Negishi, was too stupid! He didn't even suspect anything. I promised him the insurance payout, then led him right into my trap!"
Abe Feng's grip on Conan's neck grew fiercer, his words tinged with madness.
"Bang!"
Suddenly, Abe Feng staggered forward, feeling a sharp kick to his back. He involuntarily loosened his grip on Conan's neck.
Before he could react, a deafening slap landed across his face, sending him into a daze.
Abe Feng struggled to counterattack, but before he could make a move, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen.
"Vomit!" Abe Feng doubled over, his body weakening from the blow. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, unable to resist any longer.
"This is really dangerous, Conan-kun. Don't act so recklessly next time." Tang Ze stepped forward, pulling out handcuffs as he arrested Abe Feng. He smiled at the wide-eyed Conan, who was still recovering from the shock.
"Criminal Tang Ze! What are you... when did you even get here?" Conan stammered, still in shock.
"I've been here since the beginning." Tang Ze took a breath, pulling Abe Feng to his feet. "Let's calm down now."
To be honest, this was the first time Tang Ze had physically fought someone as an adult. His systematic training in subduing prisoners hadn't been as effective as expected. What worked was something more instinctive—like a high schooler fighting recklessly. A sneak attack kick, followed by a slap to disorient him, then a solid knee to the stomach. These moves were far from what he'd been trained for but were effective nonetheless.
"Note to self," Tang Ze thought, "I need to improve my combat skills."
Don't think about the "special A" rated fighters like Kogoro Mouri, Amuro Toru, or Akai Shuichi—those guys were on a whole different level. But Tang Ze had decided that he needed to reach at least a "C" level, so he wouldn't be caught unprepared in a world that seemed to evolve into an action blockbuster every year. His life could be on the line at any moment.
Conan, noticing Tang Ze's pensive expression, mistook it for him thinking about his own problems. He panicked, unsure of what to say.
He opened his mouth to find an excuse, but nothing came out. He was a mess, like an ant on a hot pot.
After all, this was a real arrest!
Conan's frantic attempts to speak made Tang Ze snap out of his thoughts. The panicked look on Conan's face, the wild gesturing—it was clear that the boy was flustered.
"Conan-kun," Tang Ze said, his voice firm.
"Yes!!" Conan straightened up instantly, ready for whatever Tang Ze would say next.
"You can't do that."
Tang Ze's serious expression made Conan's heart skip a beat. "From the first time I met you, I knew you were a very smart child."
"Eh?" Conan blinked in confusion.
"You have a keen insight, and you're able to reason with such precision. You found the culprit."
Conan's calm facade crumbled. His mind raced, scrambling for an excuse, but none came to mind. He felt completely exposed.
"You know," Tang Ze continued, "I was just like you when I was your age. My mind was far more mature than most kids. But what you have—your talent for reasoning—is something I never had at your age."
"What?" Conan asked, stunned.
"I was good at studying. It's how I got through school and eventually became part of the workforce after university. It wasn't about brilliance, just hard work and perseverance."
Tang Ze smiled as he looked at the confused Conan, crouching down to his level. "I've always known what I wanted. Even as a kid, while other kids lived carefree lives, I was determined."
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "Doesn't it feel strange? Kids your age are often overlooked for their ideas, but in cases like this, even an ordinary adult would have trouble finding the culprit."
Tang Ze's words continued to flow, almost rhetorically, as Conan absorbed everything. The weight of his words seemed to land harder than any slap or punch.
After a moment, Tang Ze stopped talking, finally breaking the silence with a satisfied look on his face.
Conan, still stunned, stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.
Tang Ze, on the other hand, couldn't help but silently congratulate himself. *Fool Conan into thinking it's a big win—mission complete!*