Chapter 53: A Legitimate Identity
Over the Ocean
As spring arrived, the sea and sky merged into one, the ocean breeze refreshing and salty.
Unfortunately, Natsukawa had no time to appreciate this beautiful beach and seascape—the roaring helicopter blades completely ruined any peaceful atmosphere.
Natsukawa piloted the helicopter, soaring beneath the clouds.
The rumbling of the rotors drew envious glances from children playing on the beach below.
Children have an inexplicable fascination with flight.
At this age, they didn't understand fear of heights. They only knew that the sky symbolized freedom—a high place where their parents' restrictions couldn't reach.
In the back seat of the helicopter, Franky, wearing a mask, was stuffing Tequila's body into a heavy-duty body bag.
Then, stones were carefully placed inside.
Additionally, Franky added several blood bags.
Without the stones, the body would likely wash ashore with the tide.
The blood bags would attract sharks.
Tequila, dead for two days and frozen for too long, wouldn't bleed much even if the body were cut open. This was the only reliable way to attract predators.
The helicopter flew to international waters, to the same location where they'd previously disposed of Nakajima's body.
Natsukawa hovered the helicopter steady, waiting for Franky to complete the disposal.
Soon, he heard a loud splash, watched the spray below, and turned away with satisfaction.
Franky's getting more efficient. Last time he could barely move the body, but this time he was much quicker.
Practice makes perfect, I suppose. It's probably time to put "teaching Franky to fly a helicopter" on the agenda. Having to pilot it myself every time is exhausting.
"Not bad, getting more efficient," Natsukawa smiled and glanced back.
Then he looked back again, more carefully.
Tequila's body bag was still in the back seat, half suspended in the air, half resting on the cushion.
Where's Franky?
Natsukawa's expression changed drastically, and he quickly maneuvered the helicopter around.
Considering that splash sound, it was clearly Franky who'd fallen, not Tequila's body.
Returning to the spot where they'd just been, Natsukawa clearly saw a figure struggling in the water.
A distinctive afro bobbing up and down, somehow still maintaining its shape despite the pounding seawater.
Fortunately, Franky had learned to swim after that car accident. Otherwise, his flailing movements would have been enough to drag a non-swimmer straight to the ocean floor.
Hovering and descending, Natsukawa skillfully lowered the rescue ladder.
Soon, Franky, reeking of saltwater and seaweed, staggered back into the helicopter.
The overpowering smell of the ocean made Natsukawa grimace.
"Couldn't you have looked behind you before dumping something?" Franky spat several times. He'd clearly swallowed too much seawater—his stomach looked noticeably distended.
"Who would have thought that a well-known intelligence broker in the underworld would be so incompetent?" Natsukawa scoffed. "You should thank me for forcing you to learn to swim back then."
Franky didn't want to respond and spat toward the cockpit in protest.
Damn the IRS, damn the Organization, damn Tequila.
After returning the helicopter to its rental location, the two returned to Franky's villa.
Back at the Villa
The investigation into Yuu Mumu and Haruki Tokinin's schedules was complete.
Franky proudly waved the documents in his hand. "This President Mumu is quite the character. He relies on computer software way too much. All his data is stored digitally. In just one night, I not only found his schedule for today, but also obtained substantial evidence of Kyogi Corporation's tax evasion."
Natsukawa remained indifferent. "He's about to die anyway. There's no need to investigate his taxes."
Kyogi Corporation wasn't under the Organization's control, so it wasn't within their operational jurisdiction and therefore had no real value to him.
He could report it to the Japanese National Tax Agency, but that wouldn't bring him any personal benefit.
"That's not quite right. You might not know this, but the National Tax Agency recently got a new director, and it's the season for new officials to prove themselves. If you give him this information, I can get you a legitimate Japanese civil servant identity."
"You've even managed to establish connections at the National Tax Agency?" Natsukawa was genuinely surprised. He'd only been in Japan for a short time, and Franky had already managed to make deals with the head of the Japanese tax authorities. Impressive.
To be honest, he desperately needed a suitable job as cover. Ideally, it should be a nominal position, and a civil servant role would be even better—it would significantly reduce Conan's suspicions.
He'd used the fishing excuse last time. What would he do next time?
He was quite likely to be out at night frequently. He couldn't claim to go fishing every day while being a stay-at-home father.
If Franky could secure him a position with the tax agency, it would definitely be enormously helpful.
"Of course! But I didn't meet him through the underworld—I met him online."
"Online?"
Franky nodded proudly.
"Don't let my staying home all day fool you. Besides communicating with contacts on the dark web, I've joined tons of chat rooms and online communities in Japan. These groups may seem pointless, but sometimes you can extract incredibly valuable information from casual conversations."
"So he's your online friend?"
"Yeah." Franky rubbed his nose, blushing slightly.
He wasn't telling the complete truth. He actually knew the Tax Agency director's daughter.
And his initial purpose for joining those chat rooms wasn't information gathering—he'd just wanted to meet women.
After discovering his online friend was the director's daughter, he'd done some research. After confirming she was attractive, Franky had immediately started pursuing her aggressively.
Now they were very close to meeting in person.
Perhaps the tax evasion evidence from Kyogi Corporation would make an excellent gift.
The girl had complained to him before that her father was so stressed about the agency's investigation targets that he couldn't eat or sleep properly.
He was certain she'd be happy to help.
And obtaining a nominal investigator position from the Tax Agency wouldn't be difficult at all.
Even if one company's data wasn't enough, he could add more. He had an entire list of Tequila's drug operation contacts.
Selling drugs in Japan wasn't directly related to paying taxes, but drug money still needed to be laundered, which absolutely involved tax compliance. The Tax Agency had jurisdiction over anything involving money.
Moreover, this wouldn't conflict with Natsukawa's mission and could help him obtain a civil servant position—a perfect win-win situation.
Instantly, Franky felt love drawing closer. His heart, previously chilled by the ocean wind, warmed considerably, and life suddenly felt full of hope.
Natsukawa, of course, had no idea what Franky was fantasizing about. He only saw him grinning like an idiot until his face cramped.
He couldn't bear to watch.
Shaking his head, Natsukawa carefully examined Yuu Mumu's detailed schedule.
Yuu Mumu's schedule for today was relatively straightforward:
Morning: Meeting with clients.
Afternoon: Meeting with clients.
Evening: Meeting with clients.
Typical businessman.
Oh wait, the evening was different—he was meeting clients at a hostess club.
A sleazy appearance, a balding head, the same height as Franky—just looking at Yuu Mumu, you could tell he wasn't exactly respectable. And meeting clients at a hostess club? The clients probably weren't respectable either.
And it was scheduled for after 10 PM. Anyone who didn't know better would think Yuu Mumu was contributing to Japan's GDP through the entertainment industry.
But that was essentially accurate—after finishing business, he'd definitely be "contributing to the GDP."
No wonder he's balding. With this kind of schedule every day, his hair follicles definitely can't sustain growth.
As for Haruki Tokinin, since he was Yuu Mumu's driver, his schedule was identical to his employer's. However, a driver had his limitations—he could only wait outside and occasionally come in to help when his boss got too drunk.
Perfect. That way, after dealing with Yuu Mumu, I can extract Tokinin cleanly.
Conan and Kogoro Mouri weren't in Tokyo today—it was the ideal time to act.
If they waited for the Shinigami to return, the gears of Conan's deductive abilities might start turning at an inopportune moment.
Feeling much more confident about the plan, Natsukawa glanced up at Franky, who was still lost in romantic fantasies, shook his head, lit a cigarette, and casually burned all the printed documents in an ashtray.
Franky's lovestruck state lasted quite a while. Heaven only knew how long it had been since he'd been with a woman. Or perhaps he'd remained perpetually single his entire life—otherwise he wouldn't be in this pathetic condition.
(End of Chapter 53)