Tsuneo watched as the Administrator's corpse dissolved into pixels, leaving behind a single ring shimmering on the floor. He reached down and picked it up.
Well, would you look at that? The boss actually dropped some loot!
He couldn't help but grin.
"How's things over in London?" the Fixer asked.
His brief "glitch" into the other world seemed to have interrupted their high-stakes atmosphere.
"Everything is running normally," Hiroki replied, his hands behind his back and a smile on his face. "However, that person is truly sharp. It's almost as if the real Sherlock Holmes is playing the game."
"You probably already know his true identity by now, don't you?" Tsuneo asked, slipping the ring onto his finger. His stats surged instantly.
With the DNA tracking system Hiroki had developed, as long as there was data to analyze, tracing a person's ancestry and identity was child's play.
"Yes. He is the son of Mr. Yusaku Kudo—Shinichi Kudo, correct?" Hiroki's voice held a hint of genuine curiosity. Information on the famous high school detective was everywhere, yet the boy was currently a primary schooler.
"That's the one. It all started when an organization forced a drug called APTX4869 down his throat..." While Tsuneo ate to recover his stamina, he began to recount the tale to the young boy.
"I've never paid much attention to things of that nature," Hiroki admitted, his brow furrowing as he heard about the cold-blooded silver-haired killer and the sheer scope of the organization's evil.
"In fact, there are quite a few groups like that out there," Tsuneo noted, glancing at Hiroki before pivoting to the story of Kaito Kid and the "Zoo" organization.
At their core, both of these massive international syndicates shared the same ultimate goal: the pursuit of immortality.
"I can tell," Hiroki interrupted after a while, "that you're intentionally making sure I know these things."
"Ahem." Tsuneo stopped talking and focused on his food.
He was indeed trying to recruit a powerful ally. A top-tier, evolving Artificial Intelligence capable of lurking in the digital world to intercept anything—who wouldn't want that on their side?
Ideally, he wanted Gin to wake up every day to a phone with no signal. Just imagining the man's frustrated, murderous expression made Tsuneo's heart fill with joy.
"Moving forward, you should probably pick up the pace. Those children look like they're reaching their limit," Hiroki said before his image flickered and faded, leaving the Pirate World.
Back in London, the group had waited on the streets until dawn. It was time for the next stage of the game.
"What am I going to do about those ships in the harbor..." Tsuneo muttered, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed.
It wasn't just the pirate ships; Alcatraz was bristling with heavy weaponry and defensive facilities, but he had far too few people to man them. The NPC Ruth had exceeded his expectations by recruiting twenty or thirty people, but it still wasn't enough.
"The Kingdom of Thersis..."
"I think I'm going to have to go out and 'liberate' some talent..."
The Whitechapel District
Daylight had fully broken over London. Conan stood alone near St. Mary's Church. This was where the body of the second victim, Honey Charleston, had been discovered.
"October will also feature a Parent-Child Charity Bazaar on the second Saturday?"
Conan noticed a flyer posted near the church entrance.
I remember the date Honey Charleston was murdered...
The Great Detective recalled the case records in Holmes's laboratory. It said September 8th—which was also a Saturday.
"A charity bazaar, two rings of different sizes..." Conan circled the area one last time, but finding no other clues, he headed back toward the banks of the Thames.
The rest of the group had spent the entire night sitting on the steps by the river.
"Conan, where did you go?" Ran sighed with relief when she saw him return safely. He had said he was just looking around, but he'd been gone for over half an hour.
"I was just exploring the streets! I accidentally took a wrong turn," Conan said with a cheeky grin, rubbing the back of his head.
"You're awfully relaxed. Today is the day of the showdown," Moroboshi said, standing up and stretching with a yawn.
By comparison, the children in the Pirate World were having a much better time. Once they had acclimated to the swaying of the ships, their quality of life was significantly higher—they had professional chefs, private rooms, and actual beds. Plus, Ruth was there to tell them stories at night.
"I honestly thought you'd been snatched by Jack the Ripper," Mitsuhiko said, looking at the detective with an exasperated expression. He was used to Conan running off into danger alone.
"Conan isn't a woman living alone, so he's safe," Ayumi said with a giggle.
"Is that so? I suspect if you put a wig on him, he wouldn't look much different from a girl," Haibara remarked, leaning casually against a wall.
"I have to agree," Ran nodded in support. Aside from his head being a bit on the large side—as Tsuneo-niichan often pointed out—Conan's features were quite delicate.
The Great Detective: ...
"Jack the Ripper has struck again!"
"Two victims this time!"
Just then, a newsboy appeared, shouting the headline of the previous night's sensational news as he sold paper after paper.
"One here, please!" Conan called out.
The detective instinctively reached into his pocket for coins, only to remember they didn't have any British currency from this era. Fortunately, the omnipotent Noah's Ark had already accounted for this. The newsboy in the beret handed over the paper and said, "That'll be eighty yen."
"Oh... is that so? How convenient," Conan muttered as he successfully obtained the key item: the newspaper.
"Cleaning the stage of the Opera House tonight. A message from M to J."
The message from Professor Moriarty was easy to find; he hadn't made any effort to hide it.
"Cleaning the stage of the Opera House... Is that the instruction?" The group huddled around the paper, analyzing the words.
The meaning of the word "cleaning" in this context was painfully obvious. Was he going to murder a performer on stage?
"I found it! A grand performance by the idol of the Warsaw Royal Opera, Irene Adler!" Conan pointed to a section of the paper announcing the upcoming show.
Irene Adler. The woman Sherlock Holmes simply referred to as "The Woman."
Admiration, respect—in the original novels, this woman was the only special existence to ever affect the cold, calculating machinery that was Sherlock Holmes's mind.
As evening approached, Conan and his companions arrived at the Opera House before the performance began.
"No unauthorized personnel beyond this point," a stage manager said, stepping forward to block their path to the backstage area.
"Hello! We're friends of Irene Adler. we wanted to come by and cheer her on before the big show," Ran explained.
It had to be said—a teenage girl leading a group of small children was a combination that naturally lowered people's defenses. Conan, holding a bouquet of flowers, successfully charmed his way into learning the location of the dressing room.
"The room with the poster... this must be it."
The group stood before the heavy door. Conan suddenly had a premonition.
Come to think of it, 221B was filled with photos of my dad. The woman Holmes admired most... surely she wouldn't...
He knocked on the door. A voice from within called out, "Come in."
The door opened, and Irene Adler was revealed.
Conan: Just as I thought...
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