Thick black smoke rolled out from the restroom door, surging outward. Through the haze, one could vaguely see a bright, gaping hole blown into the wall on the side of the street.
Gritting his teeth, Conan tried to charge into the smoke.
"Don't!" Kazawa reached out and grabbed Conan by the collar. "It's dangerous—there might be fire!"
"But…!" Conan struggled in his grip, staring at the restroom with visible frustration.
He had finally picked up their trail—just a little further, and he might've uncovered the one who attacked him. The hope that had finally surfaced was now shattered before his eyes...
Kazawa understood how he felt and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "Call the police."
"Who did this?" Conan muttered angrily. "Was it to silence him? Did they find my bug? Or…"
He clenched his fists and took out his phone. But instead of calling the police, he opened his outbox and sent an email to a certain address.
[There was an explosion here. The man who called himself 'Tequila' is dead. Was this your doing, Joker?]
Kazawa, who was about to call the police and thankfully had his phone in silent mode, froze: "..."
Don't spring things on me like that, kid!
No, this won't do. He'd have to get two more phones. His new onion-skin ID had its own contact info too—if Conan ever sent a message to Joker on a whim and both phones chimed, he'd be completely exposed...
Thinking that, Kazawa opened the email Conan sent, typed out a silent and rapid reply, then finally called the police.
"Hello, yes, we're at the Beika Hotel, at the site of the Full Heaven Games press conference. There's been an explosion... Yes... I'm not sure, but there's no visible fire at the scene..."
While Kazawa spoke to the police, Conan received a reply.
With a tight expression, he opened the message.
[Nothing to do with me. Stay safe. I have to go. Their cleanup team will arrive soon. Stay hidden, little detective.]
Conan's eyes gleamed as he looked up at the scene, still reeking of scorched smoke, and sent another email.
[You knew he'd show up. You're hiding from them. Are you connected to them? Are they hunting you?]
Kazawa saw the message and smirked. Not sure what new drama the overactive imagination of the little detective had come up with, he still went along with it.
[All I can say is: the people in that organization like to wear black, and key members use alcohol names as codenames. If they find me, it'll all be over. Take care of yourself, little detective. Until next time.]
Everything Kazawa said was the truth. If the Black Organization ever discovered the connection between the Phantom of Hearts and his parents' research, it would be a disaster.
But Conan clearly interpreted it another way.
That organization was also Joker's enemy. Joker was incredibly skilled, yet even he was forced into hiding by them… Conan put his phone away, his expression growing heavier.
"Kazawa," he said quietly. "Let's go find the guy who was dealing with Tequila."
———
Good old Inspector Megure, good old First Division.
Tequila had been blown to bits. A blast this intense, inside a confined restroom… the man was probably now evenly scattered throughout the wreckage.
Kazawa didn't want to think too deeply about that. He let Conan go off to investigate with Mouri Kogoro while he hung around quietly with Sonoko Suzuki and the others, waiting for the case to wrap up.
The suspect had already been narrowed down to three people: Hideaki Nakajima and his team. With such a small suspect pool, once Conan discovered the bomb was in the briefcase, the case would be solved soon enough. There was no need for Kazawa to step in.
He observed Conan's progress for a bit, then pulled out his phone and started typing away.
"Kazawa?" Sonoko glanced over at the police, quickly got bored, and noticed Kazawa typing nonstop on his phone. Curious, she peered over.
Kazawa waited for a reply, then opened the message.
[That's unnecessary. You're the real one solving the case. I'm no detective.]
[I'm not asking you to solve the case. Just go out for a walk or grab something to eat.]
[.]
After that lone punctuation mark, there were no more messages. Kazawa smiled warmly and turned to Sonoko.
"I'm letting Mr. Amuro know we're safe. Shouldn't you let your parents know? They'll probably hear about the explosion soon."
"Right," Sonoko agreed, dialing her father's number.
Once her attention was elsewhere, Kazawa sent a proper message to Amuro Tooru.
[Mr. Amuro, there was a small incident at the game conference. I'm fine, everyone's fine. Just a heads-up in case you see it on the news.]
[What happened?]
[There was an explosion. Someone died, apparently.]
[?]
A single question mark clearly conveyed Amuro's bafflement and exasperation.
He'd only let the guy out for one day—it wasn't even past noon yet…
[Keep your head down. Don't get caught on camera!]
Amuro sent that message, then prepared to notify Furuya Rei. More overtime incoming.
But before that, his phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, Amuro's brow furrowed. He walked into the warehouse before picking up.
"Hello? Gin?" he said irritably. "What is it now? I'm in the middle of a long-term assignment. Don't contact me unless it's urgent."
"Go deal with the bar on the top floor of the Daikoku Building," came the flat voice on the line. "Hurry. There's explosive material in the bar's storage. Handle it within the hour."
Then the call ended.
Amuro took a deep breath. That guy never listened to anything.
Sighing, he called Furuya Rei.
"There was an explosion where Kazawa is," he said bluntly once the call connected. "And there's a dead body. I can't go—think of a way to handle it."
With that, he hung up, feeling oddly relieved.
He quickly changed out of his uniform and got in his Mazda, stepping on the gas and driving toward the Daikoku Building just under the speed limit.
If they were this desperate to clean things up, something must've gone wrong. The rooftop bar "Cocktail" was one of the Organization's properties in Tokyo, often used for meetings.
If Gin suddenly wanted to blow it up, it meant someone who'd used the place had been compromised. The police were probably on their trail. Last time something similar happened, a low-level member got in a car crash, failed to kill his target, and instead killed another agent—instantly compromising one of their safehouses…
Wait a second?
Amuro's mind jammed for a moment.
He remembered the message Kazawa had just sent him.
Another deep breath.
Meanwhile, Rei Furuya, driving toward Beika Hotel in his personal car, heard his phone ring. One glance at the screen and his temple throbbed.
"Take Kazawa away immediately," Amuro's voice growled through the phone. "The dead guy might be an Organization member. Don't let anyone find out he was there! Now. Right now. Get him out!"