He raised his head and looked toward Mr. Kanjuro's Mansion, his gaze sharp.
"Well then, the notice has been delivered—tonight, when the moon sets in the west, will be the moment Kaitou Kid visits the 'Demon's Den'!"
As the words fell, white smoke exploded with a "bang," instantly enveloping the top of the lamppost.
When the smoke was scattered by the night wind, the lamppost was already empty, with only a pure white feather slowly drifting down.
Kaitou Kid had vanished as mysteriously as he had arrived, leaving behind a soul-stirring declaration and the ignited hopes and expectations of countless people.
Suzuki Jirokichi watched the direction in which Kid had disappeared and clenched his fists tightly. He knew this might be the only chance to take everything back, even if hope remained slim. And this countercurrent against Kanjuro, stirred up by Kaitou Kid, had officially begun. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what kind of duel would unfold in that dark Mansion when the moon sank. Inside the Suzuki Mansion, in the massive living room that combined luxury with a sense of high technology, the ultra-high-definition screen on the wall was also playing Kaitou Kid's flashy and firm declaration of war. When Kid's figure disappeared into the smoke and the broadcast signal cut back to the studio, where the host was analyzing this unprecedented "Phantom Thief vs. Demon" duel in a voice trembling with excitement, the atmosphere in the living room seemed somewhat... strange.
Kanjuro remained lazily sunk into the most comfortable master sofa, one hand resting casually on the armrest and the other gently swirling a glass of crimson wine. He had watched the entire process from Kid's appearance to his disappearance. Instead of showing the slightest anger at being provoked, a playful smile appeared on his face, one that even carried a hint of "finally, something interesting is happening."
"Pfft—" Sitting on the carpet at his feet, clutching a cushion, Suzuki Sonoko was the first who couldn't help but burst out laughing. She looked up at Kanjuro, her eyes full of undisguised admiration and disdain. "Daddy, look at that Kaitou Kid, putting on such an act like a clown! Who does he think he is? He actually dares to challenge you? He really doesn't know his place!"
Beside her, Ran Mouri's brows were slightly furrowed, her clear face written with worry. Although she also feared and was even somewhat lost because of Kanjuro's power and methods, the kindness deep in her heart still made it impossible for her to remain completely indifferent. She hesitated for a moment and spoke softly: "Daddy... this time seems different. Even though Kaitou Kid is a thief, this time... even Great-Uncle Jirokichi has publicly supported him, and the police might secretly... because of the bounty and public opinion... I'm worried that if he really comes, will it cause you any trouble or... danger?"
Hearing this, Kanjuro moved his gaze from the wine glass to Ran's worried face, the playful smile at the corners of his mouth deepening. He reached out and gently ruffled Ran's hair, his movements carrying the intimacy of a ruler toward a possession, yet without much real warmth.
"Danger?" Kanjuro seemed to have heard an extremely naive word. He shook his head, his tone as relaxed as if discussing tonight's dessert. "Ran, you think too highly of that little white bird flapping around in the moonlight."
He took a sip of wine, the crimson liquid leaving a faint trace on his lips, adding a touch of demonic charm.
"Doesn't he want to steal 'the heart of the ocean'?" Kanjuro's tone carried a sort of casualness as if he were granting a favor. "In a moment, have Tomoko go to the vault, take out that blue stone, and find a beautiful box to put it in."
Amidst the somewhat stunned gazes of the women, he continued in that flat yet heart-chilling tone:
"When he arrives, just give it to him directly."
"Gi... Give it to him?!" Sonoko's mouth dropped open in surprise, and even Tomoko Suzuki and Ayako, who were standing quietly nearby, showed expressions of astonishment. That was, after all, a treasure passed down through the Suzuki Family, worth a fortune!
"Otherwise?" Kanjuro raised an eyebrow, as if stating something perfectly natural. "It's just a stone; it only gathers dust sitting there. If he wants it, give it to him. It saves him from hiding all over the place and disturbing the peace."
His gaze returned to the TV screen, which had already switched to commercials, yet his eyes seemed to have pierced through the walls to see that white figure soaring in the night sky. But this time, what flickered in his eyes was neither interest in the gem nor respect for the challenge, but a... deep and dangerous light, as if he had discovered new prey.
He gently swirled his wine glass and spoke slowly in a low voice, filled with greed and possessiveness, that only those beside him could hear:
"To me, compared to that cold stone Kaitou Kid wants to steal..."
The corners of his mouth curled into an aggressive arc.
"I care more about... those interesting women who often appear by Kaitou Kid's side."
In his mind, images of Nakamori Aoko flashed—the girl who was always full of vitality, a childhood friend of Kaito Kuroba (whose identity as Kid he had long since seen through), and who carried a pure aura; and perhaps that mysterious Koizumi Akako—the unconventional transfer student with witch blood.
"Aoko's purity, Akako's mystery... surely, they are all excellent 'collectibles'." Kanjuro whispered to himself, a red glow flashing briefly in his eyes. "The white phantom thief? Heh... when he loses everything, and even those shining 'gems' by his side are incorporated into my collection, I wonder what kind of wonderful expression that face of his, which always wears a fake smile, will show?"
These words caused the entire living room to fall into a dead silence.
The smile on Sonoko's face froze, Ran's worried gaze turned into deeper fear, and even the usually calm Ai Haibara couldn't help but clench her fists.
Kanjuro's goal had long since transcended simple material or power confrontation. What he enjoyed was absolute control, stripping away everything others cherished, and marking every beautiful, unique, and shining thing as his own, bringing them into his boundless dark gallery.
In his eyes, Kaitou Kid's challenge was nothing more than... an interesting opportunity to have new toys delivered to him.
This duel was not in the same dimension from the very beginning. Kaitou Kid was planning how to steal a gem, while Kanjuro was already planning how to completely devour him along with his entire world. At the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department's Second Division, Intelligence Crimes Investigation Section, the atmosphere was completely different from the usual love-hate, high-spirited state of chasing Kaitou Kid. Inspector Nakamori Ginzo had both hands propped on his desk, spread out before him were fragmentary materials about Kanjuro and the recording of Suzuki Jirokichi's bounty broadcast that had shocked the nation. His brow was tightly furrowed, his face was ashen, and his signature mustache trembled slightly because of his tightly pursed lips.
Smoke filled the office, and the other officers were silent, their faces written with solemnity and a trace of imperceptible fear. The name Kanjuro was no longer a simple criminal codename within the police force; it was a symbol of something akin to a natural disaster—powerless and despairing.
"Bastard... Kanjuro, that monster..." Inspector Nakamori slammed his fist on the table, making a dull thud. He recalled his years of chasing Kid; although he was led in circles by that brat every time and fumed with rage, deep down, he had to admit that Kid had his unique "principles"—he didn't hurt people, and the stolen treasures were usually returned in various ways (though the process was infuriating). It was more like a flashy, high-IQ game of cat and mouse.
But Kanjuro was different. Family exterminations, control, and those various incomprehensible, terrifying powers... this was thorough, all-trampling evil!
On the TV screen, Kaitou Kid's firm and resolute declaration under the moonlight was being replayed. Inspector Nakamori stared fixedly at that white figure, his eyes filled with extreme complexity.
"That show-off thief..." he cursed in a low voice, but his tone lacked its usual anger, instead carrying a... worry that even he hadn't noticed?
He knew what Kid was facing this time. That wasn't an opponent he could deal with using anti-theft traps, helicopter cordons, or loud shouting. That was an abyss!
"Inspector..." a young officer spoke up cautiously, "Should we... follow protocol and deploy personnel to the Suzuki Mansion? After all, Kid sent a notice..."
"Protocol? What protocol!" Inspector Nakamori suddenly looked up, his voice raspy with emotion. "Is now the time to talk about protocol?! Haven't you all figured out the situation yet?! That Kanjuro... he's not like any criminal we've dealt with in the past!"
He panted heavily, his gaze sweeping across the faces in the office, some young and some no longer so.
"That Kid brat... even though he's a despicable thief, this time..." Inspector Nakamori paused, as if he had made a certain decision, his voice heavy and firm. "He's standing up this time not to steal something, but to... deal with that monster! To do something that we, the police, might not even be able to do!"
These words stunned all the officers. They had never heard Inspector Nakamori evaluate Kaitou Kid in such a tone.
Inspector Nakamori took a deep breath, as if making an extremely difficult yet incredibly clear decision. He straightened his back, regaining his dignity as an Inspector, but the content of his order was beyond everyone's expectations:
"Pass on my orders! Immediately mobilize all available mobile forces of the Second Division! Travel in plain clothes and disperse to all possible entry and exit routes and high points around the Suzuki Mansion!"
His finger pointed heavily at the area surrounding that fortress-like Mansion on the map.
"Our mission—is not to arrest Kaitou Kid!" He looked around at everyone, emphasizing word by word. "It's to monitor! To alert! If... if that Kid brat really can get out of there, whether he succeeds or not, I want you to ensure he can safely evacuate at any cost! Create opportunities for him! Do you understand?!"
The office was dead silent, so quiet a pin could be heard dropping. The officers looked at each other, hardly able to believe their ears. Protect Kaitou Kid? Use police force to provide cover for a thief?
But seeing Inspector Nakamori's unprecedented seriousness and the unquestionable resolve deep in his eyes, no one raised an objection. They understood that in the face of evil that transcended common sense, some established boundaries were becoming blurred.
"Yes! Inspector!" After a brief silence, the officers responded in unison. They moved quickly to begin deploying this special "escort" operation.
Inspector Nakamori remained alone in his office, walking to the window and gazing at the Tokyo night sky. He clenched his fists and muttered under his breath, as if speaking to himself, yet also as if calling out to that white figure from afar:
"Kid... you posturing thief... don't... don't actually get caught in there this time..."
His voice carried a complex, indescribable prayer that only arch-rivals could understand.
At this moment, the pursuer and the pursued had reached a silent, temporary alliance because of a common and incredibly powerful enemy. The boundaries of the law were forced to adjust in the face of survival and morality. Inspector Nakamori transformed all the knowledge of Kid's action patterns he had accumulated over years of outwitting him into a covert escort for this moment.
Under the moonlit night, an invisible net was spreading. On one side, Kaitou Kid was breaking into the dragon's den alone; on the other, the police were quietly laying out their forces in the shadows. Meanwhile, at the center of the storm, Kanjuro remained in his palace, waiting for the "prey" to arrive and eyeing even more novel "collectibles." This confrontation tugged at the heartstrings of too many people and blurred too many originally clear boundaries.
The moonlight was like water, pouring over the Suzuki Family's magnificent villa that resembled a modern castle, yet it could not dispel the heart-palpitating invisible shadows swirling around it. Countless lenses were pointed here; television stations and online platforms across the country were broadcasting in real-time, with viewership breaking historical peaks. Everyone held their breath, waiting for that white figure to appear, waiting for this confrontation—which seemed like a mantis trying to stop a chariot—to begin.
There was no warning, no smoke.
At the very moment the moonlight was at its peak, a white figure appeared silently before the massive copper gate of the villa's main building, which was carved with intricate patterns, as if merging with the moonlight itself.
It was indeed Kaitou Kid.
He was still in his signature white suit, his top hat pressed low, and his monocle reflecting the cold moonlight, making it impossible to see his eyes. One could only see his tightly pursed lips, which revealed an incredibly solemn expression. He looked up at this Mansion that lay crouched like a giant beast; even through the screen, the audience could feel the overwhelming pressure radiating from it.
He did not hesitate, reaching out to gently push open the unlocked gate.
"Creak—"
The heavy sound of the door opening traveled far in the silent night and, through the live broadcast signal, struck the heart of every viewer.
Inside the door was not the darkness and killing intent one might imagine, but a vast hall as brightly lit and luxurious as a royal palace. However, this extreme luxury was currently permeated by a suffocating deathly silence.
The camera followed Kid's footsteps, cautiously peering into the interior.
And when the scene inside the living room spread across the country through the live broadcast, everyone watching couldn't help but gasp, falling into a state of immense shock and a bizarre silence.
In the center of the living room, in the most dazzling position, sat a huge, elegant armchair (or rather, something more like a throne) that looked incredibly comfortable. Kanjuro was leaning lazily back in it.
He wore a dark red velvet robe, the collar slightly open to reveal his exquisite collarbones, his posture as relaxed as if he were merely enjoying a peaceful night. He held a sparkling crystal glass in his hand, the amber liquid inside swirling. His eyes were calm, even carrying a hint of an interested smile as he looked toward Kaitou Kid, who had just stepped through the doorway, from across the screen.
What truly shocked the national audience and even overturned their perceptions was the scene surrounding Kanjuro—
Eri Kisaki, hailed as the "Queen of the Legal World," was kneeling by the chair, using those slender hands that usually accused criminals in court to massage Kanjuro's calves with moderate pressure.
The angelically pure Ran Mouri stood behind the chair, gently massaging his temples, her eyes downcast with a complex submissiveness.
The lively and cheerful Suzuki Sonoko was curled up like a kitten on the wide armrest of the chair, her head leaning affectionately against Kanjuro's arm.
The elegant Tomoko Suzuki and the quiet Suzuki Ayako stood on either side like the most loyal ladies-in-waiting, ready to follow orders at any time.
Even the cold Ai Haibara and Miyano Elena sat on a nearby sofa, silently existing within this space.
Matsumoto Sayuri, who had just experienced a great upheaval and had hollow eyes, was also placed on a soft cushion at Kanjuro's feet like an exquisite doll.
These women, who appeared noble, independent, or pure to the outside world, were now like submissive maids and concubines surrounding their absolute master—Kanjuro. Their movements were natural and practiced, as if they had long since grown accustomed to such roles. Surrounded by these many flowers, Kanjuro was like an elegant nobleman from the Middle Ages or a dark emperor who controlled life and death, enjoying their service. It formed a stark contrast, like heaven and hell, with the white phantom thief who had broken in alone outside, as if facing a great enemy.
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