There were still over a hundred kilometers to Shizuoka—at least another two hours on the road. As Shimizu Koji gazed out the window, his thoughts drifted back to Hosaka Hideaki.
Not for any particular reason—just the question of the soul.
If the Sharingan could be reproduced… then what about the Sheep Talisman? Could it be the same?
Soul separation…
The words echoed quietly in his mind.
"Ah—!"
The next instant, a startled cry rang out inside the car. Conan and Dr. Agasa both turned around—and what they saw became an unforgettable sight.
Shimizu Koji was lying on Haibara Ai's lap, fast asleep.
Less than three seconds later, Shimizu Koji jolted awake. Without sparing a moment to process the very real experience of an elementary schooler's lap pillow, he quickly sat upright.
"H-Haibara…?"
"Were you tired?"
Facing the hesitant looks from the two in front, Shimizu Koji kept his expression neutral. His eyes, however, naturally showed a trace of drowsiness. He nodded slowly.
Haibara, still shaken, hadn't expected this at all. Out of nowhere, Shimizu Koji had suddenly collapsed onto her legs.
She was wearing shorts today. Even now, she could still feel the lingering warmth of his cheek against her thigh.
Watching Shimizu Koji calmly explain himself, she felt doubtful—but realistically, there was no other explanation.
Taking advantage of an elementary schooler on purpose?
She'd already been through worse. That didn't seem likely.
And it couldn't be that he'd suddenly fainted for no reason, either.
Haibara realized she couldn't quite see through him anymore.
Every time she thought she'd reached the limits of his depth, Shimizu Koji would surprise her with something entirely unexpected.
"Sorry," he said calmly, turning to her once he'd fully steadied himself.
Haibara studied his face—especially his eyes—for a few seconds before silently nodding. Without drawing attention to it, she leaned a little closer to the car door.
Shimizu Koji felt a flicker of embarrassment. He shifted toward the opposite door as well.
He was going to test a new ability.
Two-plus hours in the car was unbearably dull. He planned to lean against the door, pretend to sleep—and let his soul move ahead first to scout things out.
He wasn't worried about accidents. He'd been in this world long enough, and even back when he used to die, he'd never dragged anyone else down with him.
Besides, when they set out tonight, he'd felt an inexplicable sense of unease. His instincts were usually accurate.
So now that he'd confirmed he truly possessed the ability to leave his body, he intended to go check things out in advance.
Adjusting his posture, Shimizu Koji tightened his seatbelt with extra care under Haibara's suspicious gaze. Then he rested his head against the car door and pretended to fall asleep.
His soul left his body in an instant.
He turned back and looked at his physical form, breathing steadily. The sensation was like looking into a mirror—so real it felt unreal.
In his soul state, interacting with others was nearly impossible—at least, if he remembered correctly.
Back when that magic-using old man had explained things to Jackie Chan, he'd said that souls could only communicate with others by entering dreams, or by possessing a body that lacked a soul.
After scanning the inside of the car, Shimizu Koji looked up at the ceiling. With a slight tilt of his head, he passed straight through it.
Part of him remained inside the car, part outside—like opening a sunroof. The next moment, with a shift of intent, he completely detached from the vehicle and drifted into midair.
Following the direction of the road and Dr. Agasa's car, Shimizu Koji focused his thoughts. In an instant, his speed far exceeded that of the Beetle.
If his reaction speed could keep up, he felt he might truly be able to travel eighty thousand li in a day while in soul form.
In less than ten minutes, he arrived in Shizuoka. Following the address Conan and Dr. Agasa had mentioned, he quickly found the home of Professor Hirota Masami from Nanyang University.
The house lights were on.
And the moment he saw that, the sense of unease in his chest grew stronger.
Frowning, he passed through the roof and walls, moving through several rooms until he finally reached the study.
There, he found Hirota Masami.
Blood covered the man's forehead. He lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious—or so it seemed. The instant Shimizu Koji's gaze fell on him, a flash of light appeared.
The old man's soul had already dissipated from the world.
Thud—!
A dull impact echoed through the room as a bookshelf was pushed over, crashing onto Hirota Masami's body.
Shimizu Koji turned toward the other person in the room.
A young man.
He showed no fear at all. With a focused expression, he methodically arranged the scene of his crime.
As he worked, he muttered to himself.
Shimizu Koji watched coldly from the side, his gaze growing deeper by the second.
"Don't blame me," the young man muttered. "Who told you to threaten to release my old ugly photos? I'm a rising star now."
"Damn old man… why couldn't you just hand the photos back? Damn it…"
After finishing the setup around the body, Shirakura Yo straightened up and surveyed the room, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
Now, only the final step remained.
"The idiot Japanese police won't see through my trick," he sneered. "Your death will be ruled an accident. Rest easy."
With a final glance at the corpse, Shirakura Yo turned and pulled several cassette cases from another bookshelf, preparing to complete the last part of his locked-room setup.
What he didn't notice was that as he tugged a tape from one of the cases—
Behind him, Hirota Masami began to move.
Silently, the blood-soaked figure crawled out from beneath the fallen bookshelf, then slowly stood up behind him, head dripping red, utterly horrifying.
As Shirakura pulled at the tape, his vision suddenly blurred. In the glass of the bookcase, he caught sight of a faint reflection.
His movements froze. His pupils shrank violently.
He spun around—
—and was instantly seized by the throat, slammed against the bookshelf by the "revived" Hirota Masami.
Staring at the blood-streaked hair, the expressionless face, the man who had come back from the dead, Shirakura's eyes bulged as he struggled desperately.
He clawed and kicked wildly—but no matter how he fought, the other man's gaze remained cold, his expression unchanged. The grip on his throat never loosened.
Less than two minutes later, Shirakura's face turned dark red, then purple. His struggles ceased. His legs went limp.
Dead beyond any doubt.
Releasing his grip, Shimizu Koji let Shirakura's body slide slowly down the bookshelf. Without sparing it a glance, he reopened the cabinet containing the magnetic disks and began searching.
Within minutes, he found one labeled with the name Miyano Akemi.
He took it, glanced around the room, and hid the disk in a corner behind another bookshelf.
Finally, he positioned Hirota Masami's body so that it lay in front of Shirakura Yo's corpse.
Only then did Shimizu Koji leave the house.