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Chapter 225: A Handshake of Hidden Daggers
The elevator doors slid open, but instead of the expected visual impact of gold and glitter, a dense, almost tangible scent of medicine wafted out.
The smell wasn't unpleasant; it was a blend of the pungent spice of Atractylodes, the sweetness of Angelica, and a certain indescribable bitterness. It felt like walking into the herbal cottage of a secluded hermit, instantly washing away the coldness of a modern luxury mansion.
"Cough, cough... What a strong Chinese medicine smell." Mori Kogoro waved his hand exaggeratedly.
"Dad! That's rude!" Ran tugged at her father's sleeve in embarrassment, then took a deep breath, her eyes brightening slightly. "Actually, it's quite soothing after you smell it for a while. I feel more refreshed."
Conan, trailing behind, pushed up his glasses and scanned the surroundings vigilantly. He had studied Chinese herbs in Hawaii for a time. Just by the smell, he could identify at least a few extremely rare, aged ingredients.
"Welcome. You're very punctual."
A gentle voice came from deep within the living room. Blake was wearing a set of loose, white cotton-linen loungewear, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. He held a delicate small scale, seemingly in the middle of mixing something.
Hearing them, he put down his task and turned to the group at the door, a perfect smile on his face.
"Mr. Blake, sorry to intrude!" Ran bowed quickly, holding a box of high-end pastries as a gift. "This is a small token of our appreciation."
"You're too kind, Miss Ran."
Blake walked over, took the pastries, and set them casually on a side table. His gaze swept over the group, finally landing on the man at the back—the one with pink hair and squinted eyes.
That man wore a high-necked sweater and black-rimmed glasses, looking scholarly, even a bit frail. But in Blake's perception, this guy was like a sharp blade hidden in a sheath, radiating a suppressed, cold aura.
Akai Shuichi.
Likewise, Akai Shuichi was observing Blake.
Before this, he had heard Conan describe this man. "Threw a dinner knife through a hand and into a load-bearing wall with bare hands," "hands without calluses," "mysterious wealthy Chinese man."
Every tag was full of dissonance. As a top FBI investigator, he didn't buy the "martial arts family" ghost story. In this world, the only ones possessing such inhuman strength—aside from certain extremely dangerous, illegally modified test subjects—were the monsters cultivated by that bottomless Organization.
But he had rifled through every piece of intelligence regarding the Organization in his mind, even international wanted lists, and couldn't find a face that matched the one before him.
Disguise?
Akai Shuichi's eyes opened a sliver behind his glasses, his vision sweeping rapidly over Blake's ears, neck, and jawline. No seams. Natural muscle texture. It was either plastic surgery or a real face.
"Ah, this is Mr. Okiya Subaru," Mori Kogoro introduced him sideways, oblivious to the momentary stagnation in the air. "He's a graduate student at Tohto University living next door to us. He heard I was visiting an 'expert' and, since he's interested in Chinese culture, he shamelessly tagged along."
Kogoro curled his lip in disdain. "Honestly, for a science student, he sure loves to join the fun."
"Mr. Mori, please don't say that." Subaru pushed up his black frames, wearing a harmless smile, his voice low and magnetic. "After all, I was simply too curious about that 'Chinese Kung Fu' capable of penetrating walls. If I didn't see it with my own eyes, as a graduate student who worships science, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight."
Saying this, he stepped forward and extended his right hand toward Blake. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Blake. I am Okiya Subaru. Please take care of me."
Blake looked at the extended hand. Slender fingers, defined knuckles. Although the fingertips had been treated, to an expert's touch, the traces left by years of pulling triggers would still be palpable.
The corners of Blake's mouth lifted slightly. He reached out and shook the hand. "A pleasure."
"Speaking of which, has Mr. Okiya ever been to the United States?"
Subaru's hand paused almost imperceptibly.
Beside them, Conan instantly tensed, light reflecting off his glasses. Only Mori Kogoro remained foolishly staring at the pastries on the table, seemingly debating which one to eat first.
"Why do you ask?" Subaru countered smoothly.
Blake took a sip of tea and set the cup down, creating a crisp sound of porcelain against wood. "No particular reason."
He leaned back into the sofa, his posture lazy, yet exuding the aura of a superior controlling the room. "It's just that you give me a very familiar feeling. You're very much like... an old friend of mine in the States."
"Oh?" A sharp glint flashed through Subaru's squinted eyes. "That is an honor. May I ask what your friend does?"
"Him..." Blake tapped his finger lightly on his knee, smiling yet not smiling. "He's a hunter."
"Specifically hunting those... wolves hiding in the gutters."
"That is truly regrettable." Subaru's hand was steady, his eyes curved into two slits behind the lenses, his tone devoid of any ripple. "I have always been studying for my degree in Japan. I rarely even use my passport, let alone go to the US to be a hunter. Mr. Blake must have mistaken me for someone else."
"Is that so?" Blake smiled noncommittally and didn't pursue the topic. He turned toward the bar of the open kitchen, making a welcoming gesture. "Please sit, everyone. I'll prepare some tea."
Mori Kogoro had long been eyeing the genuine leather sofa. He sat down heavily, sinking into it, and let out a long sigh of comfort. "Oh my, a rich man's sofa really sits differently. Much better than that hard old thing at the agency."
Kisaki Eri glanced at him with disdain and sat elegantly on a single sofa, placing her handbag on her knees. "Mind your image. Don't act like you've never seen the world."
"I'm not here to see the world; I'm here to drink tea!" Kogoro retorted self-righteously, then craned his neck toward the bar. "Brother Blake, don't go to too much trouble! Anything will do!"
Blake, back turned to the group, moved his long fingers among the cabinets. The kettle made a soft boiling sound.
"How can I be casual with guests?"
His voice was warm, accompanied by the crisp sound of tea leaves falling into porcelain cups. Moments later, he walked over carrying an exquisite tray. Several cups of warm, lustrous tea released steam, filling the living room with fragrance instantly.
Blake placed a cup of dark, rich tea before Mori Kogoro. "Mr. Mori, this is Da Hong Pao from Mount Wuyi. Aged tea harvested from the mother tree. I believe it should suit your taste."
"Da Hong Pao? Mother tree?" Although Kogoro didn't know much about the tea ceremony, he had heard the name. His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly picked up the cup, pretending to sniff it like a connoisseur. "Good tea! One smell and I know it's good tea! This flavor... mellow!"
He took a sip impatiently, ignoring the heat, his face instantly piling up with an expression of intoxication. Although mostly feigned, the tea was indeed top-tier.
Blake smiled and handed a cup of clear tea with a faint floral scent to Kisaki Eri. "Attorney Kisaki, I see fatigue in your brow; you must have been staying up late for cases recently. This is a special calming flower tea with herbs to soothe the nerves. It helps with sleep."
Eri was surprised. She took the cup, and as the faint scent drifted into her nose, her originally tight nerves actually relaxed a bit. "You are very thoughtful, Mr. Blake, to notice even that."
Her gaze toward Blake softened considerably. This young man was not only unfathomably powerful but also meticulous in his dealings with people. Truly rare.
═════ To Be Continued ═════
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