Headache... weakness!
When Takato woke up, his body felt like he had a severe cold, making him drowsy and unwilling to open his eyes.
Squinting his eyes, Takato was very confused. He hadn't drunk much last night, so why did he feel this miserable?
He rolled over slightly, but immediately lost his balance. Gravity caused him to freefall in an instant, but his body didn't hit a flat surface.
A desk chair was knocked over when Takato fell. Takato, who was already feeling unwell all over, was in pain from the impact. His hazy consciousness was instantly jolted wide awake by the sheer sting of it.
It turned out he hadn't been sleeping in a bed, but on a rather narrow office desk.
Wait a minute... where am I?
The office was unfamiliar—cramped and dim. An old-fashioned television sat atop a cabinet against the wall, and in the center of the room stood a worn wooden coffee table and sofa set. An open wooden door on the side wall led to a bedroom.
Struggling to get up, Takato looked around. His gaze was drawn to the Japanese newspapers and magazines scattered all over the floor. These had clearly been on the desk and were knocked off because he was lying there. Why didn't he have any memory of this?
In his memory, he had been celebrating last night with friends from his university's mystery club because he'd passed his postgraduate defense and landed an offer from a Japanese firm. After a few drinks, he'd returned to his dorm, started playing a mobile game, and drifted off to sleep. How could he wake up today in such a strange place?
Confused, Takato bent down and picked up a newspaper from the floor to read. Most of them were Shikoku regional newspapers. After flipping through a few, several headlines from Tokyo editions caught his eye:
"After Eight Years! Kaito Kid Appears Once Again!" and "Shinichi Kudo! The Rise of the High School Detective!"
Shinichi Kudo? Kaito Kid? Aren't those characters from Detective Conan and Magic Kaito? How could this be? Am I...?
A sudden realization struck him. Takato dashed into the side bedroom and found a mirror.
Reflected in the glass was a young man around twenty years old with a stylish haircut. He was handsome, but he was definitely not himself.
"I've... transmigrated?"
After giving his cheek a sharp pinch—feeling the undeniable sting and confirming it wasn't a disguised mask, Takato came to this conclusion.
And he had transmigrated into the world of detective conan. If the newspaper dates were recent, then according to the timeline, it was a year before Conan shrunk, when Kaito Kuroba had just inherited the title of Kaitou Kid!
How is this possible?
Who exactly was he now? Where was he? Why did he transmigrate for no reason?
A barrage of questions left Takato in a state of shock, yet his hands didn't stop moving.
Putting down the mirror, and after confirming that there was nothing in his pockets, Takato began rummaging through the bedroom. He eventually found a pile of identification documents in a secret compartment of the wardrobe. Among these documents, Takato finally found something that could prove his identity—the university diploma of the original owner of this body.
Mitarai Kyosuke, Graduated from a university in the United States, majoring in Electrical Engineering. If the newspaper dates were current, he had graduated four years ago.
Looking at the ID photo on the diploma and comparing it with the mirror, he confirmed it was the same person—though the photo was undeniably younger.
His current appearance in the mirror was about twenty years old. Four years ago, wouldn't that make him sixteen or seventeen?
Graduating from university at sixteen or seventeen? What kind of person was the original body?
But among the remaining materials, Takato couldn't find any other useful clues, and there seemed to be nothing else in this bedroom.
Returning to the office outside, he continued to sort through the newspapers and magazines scattered on the floor. The largest number were scattered on the side of the chair, with a few sporadically dropped in other directions.
After picking them up, he checked their publication dates and found that all the dates on the newspapers and magazines were close, with a maximum interval of no more than a month, and the paper was all very new, some without even a trace of wrinkles.
Considering common sense, these should all be recent newspapers and magazines, so the current date could probably be determined.
After gathering everything and neatly stacking it back on the desk. Takato planned to examine them carefully to find more clues.
After straightening the backrest chair and sitting down, Takato looked at the stack of newspapers and magazines in front of him. Just as he was about to start flipping through them, he suddenly stopped. He carefully examined the slightly narrow desk, and a chill suddenly ran down his spine—why was the original body lying on this desk?
If he had been slumped over the desk, that would be one thing—but lying on it? Especially when the bedroom was right next door!
And recalling the number of items scattered on the side of the chair, and then looking up at the position of the door, Takato thought of a possibility—someone entered through the door, the original body got up to greet him, but was pushed onto the desk by the newcomer. Only then would the scattered newspapers and magazines be as he saw them, and the original body was pressed down on the desk and never got up again, remaining in that posture without moving until he transmigrated... Wait a minute, if that's the case, then the original body is—dead!
Of course. He should have realized it sooner. Isn't that how it always goes in the novels he'd read? The soul only transmigrates because the original host has died. And in this case, he had been murdered!
If that's the case, then his current situation is very dangerous! Mitarai Kyosuke, who should have died, is now alive! And he has no idea who the murderer is! All memories of the original body are not preserved in his current mind! Just from the traces at the scene, the murderer clearly came for the original body, and afterwards neither cleaned up nor disturbed anything here.
However, if the original body was murdered, what was the cause of death? He had no external injuries, no head trauma, and no strangulation marks or bruises on his neck.
It's truly bizarre. The only thing that can be confirmed now is that he must quickly gather more clues!
Thinking this, Takato began to search the desk drawers. Inside, he found several notebooks and a string of keys. The notebooks aside, where were these keys for? Neither of these two rooms here had any locked places.
With a racing heart, Takato began to try opening the office door.
Outside, it was a beautiful, sunny day. The office door faced a concrete road. A few sparse houses stood nearby, giving off a strong rural atmosphere, and no one was visible nearby.
And after stepping out and looking at the house he was in, Takato realized that it was a two-story building, but the stairs to the upper floor were built outside. And on the first floor, there were two small rooms extended outwards along the exterior wall: one was a Toilet, and one was a Kitchen.
Looking at the string of keys in his hand, Takato pondered for a moment, then chose to go up the stairs.
The second floor also had two rooms. Takato started from the outermost room, tried a few times to find the right key, opened the door, and walked in. He found it was a study, but facing a room full of books, Takato's gaze was occupied by something else.
It was a photo frame on the desk. The photo in the frame was a joint picture of the original body, Mitarai Kyosuke, and someone else—a brown-haired Female student, like a mixed-race person, breathtakingly beautiful. Although she looked only thirteen or fourteen, she still had a cool, mature aura.
Without a doubt, Takato recognized this person. It was a major character from the Conan world—Miyano Shiho!