Conan's Corpse Picker

Double Chapter

"So I followed the sound and eventually pinpointed that the noise came from that compartment." As he spoke, Jiangxia gestured vaguely down the car toward Asama's room.

"I knocked on the door—no answer. I tried the handle; it wasn't locked.

"When I opened it, I saw the window inside was already smashed. Looking closer, I could just make out a fishing line running from the door to the window. The whole scene felt eerie—fishing line is a favorite tool of many murderers, you know.

"I had a bad feeling, so I went in to check. Just as I found the body hanging outside the window and turned to call the police, the door suddenly swung open from the outside—right into me."

As Jiangxia spun his half-truths for the police, he helpfully laid out Kaetsu's entire plan—like a free reconstruction service.

Meanwhile, further down the same train car…

Vodka kept glancing at Ouzo, who stood there looking so serious it made Vodka's neck itch. He shifted uncomfortably, staring at the coil of fishing line bagged as evidence. It felt like an invisible thread was looped around his own throat, just waiting for Ouzo to pull.

The more Vodka thought about it, the more he felt Ouzo's traps were everywhere. If Ouzo ever really decided to deal with him, how could he escape?

Left alone to ponder, Vodka tried to think up countermeasures.

He failed. And the more scenarios he imagined—falling down stairs, mysterious car crashes, accidental poisonings—the colder his sweat ran.

So when a police officer suddenly approached him for questioning, Vodka nearly jumped out of his skin. His hand twitched toward his gun on reflex.

Before he could embarrass himself any further, Gin's cigarette-holding hand "accidentally" knocked Vodka's arm aside.

Vodka jolted back to reality. He quickly turned the awkward motion into a casual move to smooth his coat, then answered the officer's questions as if nothing had happened.

He even risked a quick peek at Gin's cigarette smoke—somehow, it seemed to carry a faint scolding, like, Don't you dare pull that out, you idiotic person.

Feeling guilty, Vodka stood there sweating even more. And yet, at the same time, he wondered: Could even this be Ouzo's plot? Once you decide someone's everywhere, it's easy to blame every rustle on them. Vodka was now firmly in that trap.

Luckily for him, the police's impression softened instead.

—A huge man in black, flinching in sunglasses? He looked more like an innocent guy who was terrified of socializing than a shady cadre.

One officer even thought, Maybe he wears sunglasses at dawn because he's shy about his eyes. Maybe they're big and watery, totally mismatched to that mountain physique…

Satisfied Vodka was just a poor social-anxiety case, the officer didn't press much. Vodka wasn't exactly a star witness anyway.

After a few basic questions for Gin, the police moved on, leaving the cadre duo in peace—for now.

…

Elsewhere on the train, someone else was lost in thought.

Conan crouched in a corner, expression tense, his brain whirring so fast it might melt.

Gin's sudden move—stepping on the gun, cutting Kaetsu's escape—had rattled him. But the more he replayed it, the more reasonable it seemed. Maybe Gin just didn't want anyone else armed. Maybe he just hated sloppy killers.

That part wasn't the problem.

The real problem was Gin's behavior afterward.

Conan couldn't shake the sense that ever since then—especially now, as Jiangxia calmly untangled the case and exposed the plan—Gin occasionally looked at Jiangxia with… something like approval.

Gin. Approval.

That was new.

Conan had run into Gin enough times to know: the man didn't "approve" of anyone. Even with Vodka, his eyes were always full of scorn—just like now, come to think of it.

But Jiangxia? He was getting the "not completely worthless" look. It was subtle, but once Conan spotted it, alarms went off in his head.

Jiangxia already seemed to attract weirdness—like the psychiatrist who shot an officer in broad daylight, or that unknown killer who disguised himself ten different ways, or Amuro Tooru, the detective boss with a suspicious gun habit…

Okay, fine, Conan reminded himself, Boss Amuro is mostly a good person. Probably. Should stop automatically filing him under "suspect."

He refocused. The point was: Conan had accepted he'd need to keep dragging hidden criminals away from Jiangxia forever. But he'd never expected Gin himself to be part of that roster.

His mind flickered back to Professor Agasa's original plan—Conan should stick to Kogoro Mouri, help him become a famous detective, and then use that fame to flush out the Black Organization.

After all these years, Uncle Mouri's fame had grown… negligibly.

Meanwhile, Jiangxia showed up and accidentally skyrocketed to stardom—he didn't even have to try. And worse, he was now on Gin's radar.

Is the organization actually interested in famous detectives?

Conan frowned. It would make sense—they'd get easy access to people's secrets. And Jiangxia has that annoying "useful tool" vibe criminals love.

His imagination, unhelpfully, painted a dozen tragic scenes: the organization threatening Jiangxia to join them, Jiangxia refusing, and Gin coldly blowing him away. Or worse, some cadre sidling up to Jiangxia, posing as a "friend," dragging him into shady "favors" that spiral into real crimes.

In the end, Jiangxia might be so ashamed of his sins that he'd lock himself in a bathroom, filling a bathtub, contemplating a "buddhist restart"… He'd done similar things before. Not reassuring.

Conan pressed his temples. No. The organization must not get near Jiangxia. Not even a little.

Better to snuff it out early, before they invested too much interest to walk away.

Resolved, Conan picked up a half-finished juice box, eyes flicking to the train corridor.

If Gin tried to talk to Jiangxia again, Conan would "accidentally" trip and spill juice all over him—oops. Then he'd drag Jiangxia back to the compartment to change clothes, stalling him until they reached their stop.

As for later…

Well, the bear child would just have to keep an eye on him. Forever, if necessary.

Gin and Vodka showing up in public at the same time today couldn't possibly be for some innocent sightseeing tour—they definitely had serious business.

Once they got off the train, they'd go their separate ways, drifting off into the crowd, making it difficult to run into Jiangxia again. Maybe they'd even forget about him while busy with other missions.

And if they didn't, well… once everyone was back in Tokyo, Conan figured he could always use Kudo Shinichi's voice to call Inspector Megure, spin some story about a suspect targeting Jiangxia, and get the police to stake out the area. If they actually caught Gin, that would be a huge win…

So Conan waited, his grip on the juice box tightening and loosening as he flipped between fear, excitement, and hope.

But the conversation he'd imagined never happened.

—Jiangxia and Gin both got questioned by the police, but Gin never used the chance to chat, nor did Vodka.

…Maybe there were too many officers around, so they had to lie low?

Or maybe "recruiting new members" wasn't even Gin's job?

Conan could only hope he was overthinking things—that Gin had no interest in Jiangxia at all. That would be ideal…

His hand relaxed a bit. He took a sip of the juice he'd originally planned to "accidentally" spill on Jiangxia and let out a slow breath.

Honestly, he'd been wrestling with whether to tell Jiangxia the truth about the Black Organization.

But on second thought, that might backfire. If the organization didn't actually do anything, blurting it out too soon might just spark Jiangxia's curiosity. The last thing Conan needed was Jiangxia nosing around, actively poking the Black Organization nest on his own.

And if he said nothing? Then because Gin had literally helped stop the gunman earlier, Jiangxia's first impression of this "helpful passerby" might be way too good—which would make him more likely to trust the next approach.

…This was turning into a pot of trouble. Why is this so hard?

Conan ruffled his hair in frustration, gulping down a few more sips.

Then, remembering that fatal "first impression," a bold thought popped up:

Why not just… slander Gin in advance?

If he could get Jiangxia to see Gin as disgusting and shady, then even if Gin did try to recruit him, Jiangxia would stay wary and wouldn't go making new "friends" with random men in black coats.

With that buffer, Conan could intervene and bait the organization into a trap. Plus, Haibara Ai was still around—she could probably sniff out that shady aura if Jiangxia got too close to any cadre.

Conan watched the scene as he ran through plans in his mind.

Eventually, he saw Jiangxia wrap up his chat with the police and head back toward the sleeper cars to rest.

Jiangxia turned—just in time to catch Gin watching him. Their eyes met for a split second.

Conan's gaze zeroed in. Sure enough—Jiangxia didn't look wary at all. In fact… was that a flicker of appreciation?

Appreciation? For Gin??

Conan's soul nearly left his body for a second. Damn this first impression…

He forced his face into the most innocent bear child look he could muster. Slipping through the crowd like a little shadow, he darted past Gin and Vodka, ignoring their lingering glances, and scurried after Jiangxia.

…

Jiangxia slipped out of the carriage the police had basically turned into a mini HQ and headed back to his sleeping compartment.

He heard hurried footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw Conan.

The fake child's face looks awful, Jiangxia thought, tilting his head. Did a new case pop up already?

But the police were still here—surely that was too fast, even for the Detective Conan universe.

Before he could ask, his hand moved on autopilot, patting Conan's head in greeting. "What's wrong?"

Conan just shook his head, not talking, and motioned they should discuss things somewhere more private.

So Jiangxia led him down the corridor to his compartment.

Seeing which door they stopped at, Conan froze.

—If he remembered right, Gin had come out of the next room earlier. They were literally neighbors!

Don't panic. Don't panic. There's no way the Black Organization has been tailing Jiangxia this whole time, Conan told himself. It must be coincidence. Must be.

Still… Jiangxia really does have a "fated clash of good and evil" vibe about him, Conan thought, instantly annoyed at how cinematic that sounded.

They stepped inside. Conan clicked the lock behind him, mind racing back to his plan. He hesitated, then found an opening.

"Do you know those two tall men in black from earlier?" he asked in a careful whisper.

Jiangxia: "…"

He can even tell that?

Jiangxia's eyebrows twitched. He'd assumed Gin and Vodka's appearances were suspicious enough that a few glances wouldn't raise alarms. But Kudo Shinichi really lived up to his reputation—sharp as ever, even in bear child form.

So. He could deny it, push some distance between himself and the cadre in Conan's eyes… But Jiangxia thought about it more carefully.

Given his habit of stumbling into the organization's messes, plus Gin's tendency to pop up like a shikigami at random crime scenes, it was pretty likely Conan would see him talking to Gin again—maybe even hitching a ride in Gin's car.

Rather than trying to hide it every single time, why not plant a safer seed now?

Yes, Jiangxia decided, better to spin this in my favor. If Conan blurts out the truth, I can say I'm "trying to infiltrate the organization to find out more." If he says nothing, at least it won't be weird when I'm spotted chatting with Gin again.

And so, with the faintest trace of a mischievous smile, Jiangxia tucked his hands in his pockets and prepared to answer—already plotting how to steer this pot of secrets exactly where he wanted it.

*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.

Progress: 25/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS

Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.

Progress:4/10*