"Furuya-san, that makes twenty."
Kazami Yuya spoke as he gripped the steering wheel, his voice cutting through the quiet cabin of the car just as another notification chime echoed from the dashboard.
Since the start of the night in Beika-cho, they had been shadows trailing the Dark Knight across Tokyo. It was now well into the early hours of the morning, and they had already apprehended nineteen individuals.
"How on earth is he obtaining these addresses?"
Amuro Tooru sat in the passenger seat, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Some of these targets had been rooted out from obscure, nondescript hotels where they were laying low.
Even though these were mostly low-level peripheral members of the Organization, the sheer volume of them being exposed at once was staggering.
Just how high-level is the mole the Dark Knight has planted within the Organization? Amuro wondered.
In the transport van trailing behind them, there were two or three faces Amuro actually recognized—subordinates he had the authority to command himself.
"I'm afraid a certain someone is about to lose his mind…" Amuro said, a thin, sharp smile playing on his lips.
He was, of course, referring to a specific silver-haired executioner.
"They're just small fry, though. Surely it won't come to that?" Kazami asked, steering the vehicle toward the next set of coordinates.
"Even low-level members are hard to come by once they've passed the screening or possess specialized skills," Amuro countered.
Moreover, if something like this could happen once, it could happen again. The status quo was about to be shattered. Chaos was coming.
"This is the final location. Six targets inside, plus one 'extra' target."
Tsuneo parked his motorcycle at a distance and approached the residential area on foot. Leaning against a cold stone wall, he stared at a dark villa that showed no signs of life. "Who's the extra?"
"A sniper," Hiroki's voice replied through the comms. "He's responsible for providing basic firearms training to the others. The basement levels of this place appear quite extensive; the defensive measures won't be light."
Since there were no external cameras for Hiroki to hack into, the AI couldn't provide more detailed tactical data. Dealing with seven fully armed Organization members in a fortified position was a tall order.
"Does this basement have another exit?" Tsuneo asked, weighing his options.
"Unclear," Hiroki answered succinctly.
"Check the owner of this house. See if he owns any other property nearby." Tsuneo straightened up, his mind already spinning with a new plan.
Twenty minutes later, the "Repairman" returned, carrying two large fuel canisters.
According to the information Hiroki had dug up, there was indeed another uninhabited villa nearby registered to the same owner. For a safe house of this nature, the two buildings were almost certainly connected via an underground tunnel.
"Let's burn it," Tsuneo said flatly.
"…"
"You should probably be careful with the gasoline," Hiroki advised after a brief silence. "Try not to set the neighbors' houses on fire."
"Don't worry…"
While Hiroki sent the updated coordinates to Amuro, he also took the liberty of alerting the fire department. In the AI's estimation, Tsuneo's methods were becoming increasingly… radical.
"Big Brother, Itakura Suguru opened the email, but he hasn't replied yet."
Vodka was operating solo today, acting as his own driver as he reported to Gin over the phone.
"I know. He's likely still weighing his options. Heh. It doesn't matter where he runs; the Organization will find him," Gin replied, his voice a cold rasp.
From his tone, it was clear Gin was well aware that Itakura had been frantically taking on freelance work lately, desperate to save enough money to flee the country.
"Brilliant as always, Big Brother!" Vodka chimed in, never missing a chance to flatter his superior.
"Hmph. Head over to the safe house in Beika-cho and pick up some ammunition. Some of the new recruits should be stationed there right now."
Having issued the order, Gin hung up immediately.
"Using up ammo that fast… Big Brother really works them hard," Vodka grumbled to himself as he changed course toward the safe house. Ever since his "square head" had taken a heavy blow recently, he had become noticeably more talkative.
As his car neared the safe house, he saw a flickering red glow dancing against the night sky from a distance. Vodka's brow furrowed. He parked the car and approached on foot.
Despite it being the middle of a snowy night, a crowd of onlookers had already gathered.
"What happened?"
"I heard two empty houses caught fire."
"???"
"!!!" Vodka stared at the roaring flames in utter disbelief, his head whipping back and forth between the two burning structures.
The safe house was gone?!
He scrambled back to his car and redialed Gin's number.
"Big Brother, something happened again!"
Vodka took a sharp breath before continuing. "The safe house is on fire."
Aside from the firefighters, he could see plainclothes officers moving through the crowd—they looked like Public Security.
"Withdraw, Vodka. It seems someone in the Organization is getting restless again." Gin's mind flashed through a list of potential traitors. He couldn't fathom who could have leaked the existence of that specific safe house.
Just as Vodka was about to hang up, Gin's tone turned ice-cold. "No, wait!"
Arson. No matter how you looked at it, burning a building to the ground wasn't the Public Security's style.
"What should we do, Big Brother?" Vodka asked, happy to let Gin do the thinking.
"Pick me up tomorrow. We're going to the docks."
Gin hung up without further explanation.
Vodka knew the drill. Big Brother was going to conduct an internal purge. Leaking a safe house was a serious offense, but burning it down was an act of pure provocation. They had to catch whoever was behind this.
While chaos reigned on one side of the city, Conan and Professor Agasa were facing their own sudden misfortune.
As they were driving, a loud pop echoed through the air—a tire had blown out.
Fortunately, they weren't stranded in the middle of a mountain forest. They were on a roadside where they could still call a nearby gas station or repair shop for help.
"That's strange. I just had the car checked a few days ago. How could it break now?" Professor Agasa gave the young detective a meaningful look.
Just like Tsuneo said… is it really because Shinichi is that unlucky?
"What…?" Conan felt the old man's gaze was highly suspicious.
Just then, a car approached from the opposite side of the road and pulled over next to them.
"Is everything alright?" The driver, a young man wearing a knit cap, rolled down his window and offered a friendly smile.
"Nothing major, just a flat tire," the Professor explained with a sheepish grin.
"I see. With this heavy snow, I doubt any gas stations nearby are still open," the man noted thoughtfully.
"That is a bit of a problem," Agasa muttered, scratching his head. Should he call the "Repairman" to bring a spare? Waiting out here for half the night seemed miserable.
Conan narrowed his eyes. For a split second, he felt the driver's expression was… off.
"Where are you headed? I can give you a lift, and you can come back for the car tomorrow," the man offered, turning slightly to consult the woman lying in the back seat.
"We're heading back to Tokyo. Is that alright?" Conan looked up, a bright, innocent smile plastered on his face.
The Professor sighed internally. Coming back for the car tomorrow is going to be such a hassle!
"No problem. We're going that way too. Let's give them a ride," the woman in the back seat said, sitting up and yawning. She had short hair and looked to be in her twenties, roughly the same age as the driver.
With her permission, the Professor followed the detective into the car with a look of helpless resignation.
So… who's going to come back tomorrow to change the tire?
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