Double Chapter
The truck's cab was tiny, barely big enough for two passengers plus the driver.
Jiangxia gave up his seat to Toyama Kazuha, who was hauling a massive backpack, then hopped out and climbed into the back.
So he ended up in the cargo bed with Heiji Hattori, Robert Taylor, and the big motorcycle tied down beside them.
The air back here was fresher than in the cab, but the metal floor dug into his legs.
Still, with a nice, raw bit of wild murderous aura nearby, the discomfort faded for Jiangxia — nothing like good company.
…
With the extra passengers, Yuzo Takeda eased off the gas, driving slower than before.
Hattori leaned against the waist-high railing, glancing sideways at Jiangxia, who looked suspiciously cheerful. Then he dropped his gaze to the dirt road rattling away beneath the wheels.
It's not going that fast, Hattori thought. If I jump off now, maybe I'll just break an arm…
He froze. What the hell am I thinking?
Heiji raised a hand and knocked himself lightly on the forehead, scolding his own nonsense.
Actually, the more he ran into Jiangxia lately, the less creeped out he felt.
Especially that time on Furukawa's boat — if Jiangxia hadn't shown up, he'd have ended up as a floating corpse thanks to that old wanted criminal. In that sense, Jiangxia was technically his savior.
People adapt.
The first time he saw Jiangxia's "script-reading" speed at solving cases, he'd been half horrified.
The second time, he felt a spark of stubborn pride.
The third time, he swore he'd keep up.
By the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth time… he'd developed a weird immunity.
But the reflex of not wanting to investigate cases with Jiangxia still hadn't gone away.
Analyzing his "jump off the truck" impulse, Heiji decided it was pretty unhealthy.
Avoidance wouldn't help him grow — maybe his parents were right: you should face difficulties head-on.
He was young, there was time to catch up. Besides, nobody liked being hated.
Every time he saw Jiangxia, he'd turn and leave — Kazuha and those two from Tokyo claimed that might cause "invisible harm to Jiangxia's spirit."
He'd never seen any harm, though. Jiangxia always seemed to be the happier one…
Still. He should have a conscience.
Heiji took a deep breath and clamped down on the urge to fling himself off the moving truck.
To prove he was friendly, he decided to make conversation. "Why are you here?"
Jiangxia turned to him, faintly pleased.
Considering Hattori's endless pot of cases, he always found this Osaka detective nice to look at. "Same as you. Someone sent me a commission letter with 500,000 yen in cash, so I came to check it out."
He pulled out the letter and handed it over.
Hattori's smile stiffened. He took the envelope, grumbling inwardly: 500,000? I only got 200,000. Not that I care about money — but what's this, a seniority discount for high school detectives?
Heiji felt a small, irrational wave of resentment — which vanished when he actually looked at the letter.
Neat vertical handwriting, an official seal, and a proper signature. The wording was formal and polite, a real letter of commission.
Nothing like the one he'd received.
His was anonymous, machine-typed, with two vague sentences that looked like a prank.
If the same person was hiring them both, there'd be no reason for one letter to be so proper and the other so shady.
So we got letters from different people, Hattori realized. Which means…
He wouldn't have to investigate the case with Jiangxia.
His lips twitched into a smile, but he smoothed it out fast, trying to act normal.
He waved his own letter at Jiangxia and cleared his throat. "Looks like there are two Takeda families up here. We'll have to investigate separately."
Jiangxia stared at him. From the look on Hattori's face, he might as well have sprouted cartoon flowers over his head.
Whether Kansai or Kanto, the acting skills of these high school detectives were equally trash-level.
Still, Jiangxia let it slide. He glanced at the slip of paper Hattori was waving around.
Compared to the polite commission he'd received, Hattori's letter was sparse — only two lines:
[Please arrive at the Takeda residence on Puppet Peak before dusk next Saturday. Otherwise, more living puppets will become spider's bait.]
Jiangxia paused.
Actually, compared to his own letter, he kind of liked Hattori's better. That deliberately spooky vibe practically promised a ghost fetus would pop up somewhere…
Robert Taylor, wedged next to them, leaned over to peek at the paper too. He read it aloud slowly, practicing his Japanese. "Become spider's bait… why feed living puppets to spiders?"
Yuzo Takeda, driving up front with his window cracked, heard everything — Robert's muttering, Hattori's forced regret.
The usually stone-faced but secretly warm-hearted Yuzo decided to clarify before they jumped to the wrong conclusion.
"If the letter mentions 'spiders,' that's us. Something bad happened to my family years ago, so the locals spread rumors that we're cursed by the Spider Lord. They say if you don't want to end up strung up like bait, you'd better stay away from the Spider Mansion. Hmph. Utter nonsense."
Kazuha Toyama heard the word "curse," and goosebumps prickled her arms.
She rubbed her skin frantically for warmth and declared, half to reassure herself, half to convince the universe: "There are no monsters or curses in this world! Someone's secretly stirring up trouble — that's all. This time they invited detectives — with Jiangxia and Heiji here, they'll expose this 'curse' for what it is in no time!"
Heiji Hattori: "…"
So… this Takeda was that Takeda?
No more investigating separately from Jiangxia now.
And why did Kazuha put Jiangxia's name before his? Shouldn't you mention your childhood friend first?!
Hattori tugged his jacket tighter, glaring out at the mountain wind that now felt a touch colder.
Robert, meanwhile, didn't notice his companion's sudden despair.
He stroked his chin and asked curiously, "How come I've never heard of this rumor?"
"You came three years ago, right?" Yuzo Takeda didn't look back, eyes on the road. "That year, when the rockslide hit you, Misa was the one who found you and patched you up. So… no wonder you never heard these rumors."
His voice trailed off at the end, like he'd stumbled onto a thought he didn't want to finish.
Robert let the topic drop. He flashed a polite smile, sounding like a respectful guest visiting his benefactor: "Speaking of Misa, how has she been these past few years?"
"…"
Yuzo Takeda's cigarette burned down between his fingers as he fell silent. Then he casually lifted his hand and pointed out the window.
Everyone in the truck paused, craning their necks to see.
Logically, this should've been the perfect moment to spot "Misa" by the roadside — a dramatic reveal.
But all they saw was a slope of trees, no person in sight, not even a passing bird.
As they all blinked at the empty forest, Yuzo's dry voice floated back:
"Look — does that mountain look like a sleeping puppet? That's actually one of the reasons they call this place Puppet Peak."
Heiji Hattori: "…"
Kazuha Toyama: "…"
That topic change was more suspicious than the "curse" itself…
Something clearly happened to this "Misa." But Yuzo looked like he'd bite off his own tongue before explaining more. For now, any details were staying locked away in that cigarette haze.
Hattori just made a mental note: Fine. One more piece for the puzzle.
So far, he still didn't even know what exactly the client wanted him to investigate — his "commission letter" hadn't said squat. All he could do was bank suspicious points for later.
Beside him, Jiangxia turned his head when Yuzo pointed out the "sleeping puppet," but his mind was elsewhere.
He lowered his hand, brushing against the murderous aura drifting lazily past him on the mountain breeze.
It was coming from Robert.
When Misa's name came up, Robert's aura had flared. Now there was also a fresh little shikigami clinging to his calf.
He said he was lost, that he'd "only just arrived" after three years — but Jiangxia clearly remembered this foreigner had been lurking around Puppet Peak for days.
Three years ago, Robert had limped away from the mountain swearing to fix his Japanese, tie up loose ends, then return to propose to Misa Takeda, who'd saved him.
When he finally came back, he learned Misa was dead — she'd supposedly hanged herself right after he left.
Robert, convinced that Misa's father, Shinichi Takeda, had forced her to her death, dug around and discovered the old man's drug business. He set up a neat little revenge plot: first, he killed Shinichi's trafficking partner and hung him in a warehouse; then he stole a puppet stuffed with drugs to blackmail Shinichi, luring him into a second-floor trap he'd rigged in advance. One slip, and Takeda would join his daughter in the afterlife.
And that shady "commission letter" Heiji Hattori received? Robert again.
Even their "accidental roadside meetup" was staged — an innocent plan to look like a clueless newcomer and clear suspicion.
…
The truck jolted along the winding road for over an hour before a large compound finally came into view.
Even from afar, you could see the weather-beaten walls and elegant buildings — clearly once high-end, now faded under wind and rain. At dusk, as shadows stretched and the last light slipped away, the entire place looked like it belonged in a ghost story.
As they drew closer, Jiangxia's eyes drifted to the courtyard ahead.
He stared for a second, then checked on his little ghost entourage, all pressed to the truck's railing, gazing intently the same way.
The mermaid ghost stared the longest, then hurriedly tucked away the ball of murderous aura it had been playing with — like an otaku stashing figurines before the neighborhood bear child dropped by.
That reaction… so a ghost really has appeared, Jiangxia thought.
But Hattori and Robert were both alive, and Shinichi Takeda hadn't died yet. Whose ghost was it?
He puzzled over it for a moment, then shrugged it off. Doesn't matter. If I find it, it's my family's ghost now.
Using the motion of gripping the car frame, he gave the nearby ghosts a discreet poke. Go on, invite the newcomer in for a friendly chat…
…
The truck pulled into the Takeda family courtyard with a crunch of gravel.
Hattori, still brooding over "Misa," fought the urge to pester Yuzo for more answers. Fine — he'd find someone else to question once they got inside.
At the door to the so-called Spider Mansion, they were greeted by an ordinary-looking, gentle-faced woman: Yoko Takeda.
The Takeda family had three brothers — the eldest, Shinichi Takeda, the current head; Ryuji Takeda, a cultured city man; and the honest Yuzo Takeda, who'd just driven them up here.
Yoko was Ryuji's wife — the only middle-aged woman left in the family. The eldest brother's wife had passed away years ago, and the bachelor Yuzo didn't even have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.
When Heiji Hattori asked about Misa, Yoko lowered her eyes, voice dropping to a hush. "Three years ago, she hanged herself. In the puppet warehouse."
Jiangxia's ghosts were off in the yard, drifting in circles, clearly sniffing out the faint ghost fetus. He asked mildly, "Suicide?"
"Yes." Yoko twisted her hands together. The memory of that grim corpse still haunted her, judging by her pale face.
She darted a glance at Jiangxia— clearly recognizing him as the Detective Conan universe's top detective. Once she calmed down a bit, she added, "Not long after Misa died, my sister-in-law — Misa's mother — also hanged herself. Same place."
"The same place…"
Hattori repeated it back, frowning, actually deep in thought for once. Meanwhile, Jiangxia only pretended to ponder — his mind was already racing ahead.
Seeing Yoko fall silent again, Hattori pressed on. "Why? Did they leave any notes?"
Yoko just shook her head helplessly. "I don't know. It's not just them either… a few days ago, Mr. Negishi — Shinichi-san's assistant — also passed away. Hung himself alone in the storage room while we were all out during the day…"
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 59/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:4/10*