Double Chapter
Several plastic BB pellets flew from Rob's gun, pinging off the second-floor warehouse window.
Inside, Shinichi Takeda heard the odd noise and shuffled over to the narrow window, peering out curiously.
Just then, Rob picked up his two passengers, slammed the accelerator, and the truck roared forward.
The truck yanked the fishing line tied to its rear bumper, which triggered a whole web of strings hidden on the warehouse window.
In an instant, rope nooses dropped down, looping precisely around Shinichi Takeda's neck as he leaned out to look — they cinched tight with brutal force.
Takeda's eyes widened in sheer disbelief as the line snapped him backward. His head cracked against a beam — cervical spine fractured on the spot.
His limp body dropped straight into the ceiling's fishing line trap, bouncing once, then sagging, caught like an insect tangled in a spider web.
Outside, the cold mountain wind gusted through the courtyard. The truck's engine masked the faint, short-lived sounds of his death.
No one saw this seamless, grotesque moment unfold — except for two pairs of eyes, watching from a distant forested peak.
…
Inside the watchtower in the woods.
As Shinichi Takeda's corpse stopped swaying, Gin slowly lowered his eye from the high-magnification scope.
He and Vodka had arrived at this watchtower before dusk.
The rifle mounted by the window had originally been one of Gin's preferred plans: snipe Shinichi Takeda, wipe the client list, move the puppet stash, and vanish into the night.
This mountain was remote, so the police would take forever to respond. By the time they traced the bullet trajectory back here, Gin and his subordinates would be long gone.
And if any disposable henchmen botched the list or the drug run? Easy fix: silence another batch.
No big deal.
But apparently, Ouzo — or Jiangxia — had his own ideas.
So the sniper rifle, meant for an assassination, ended up serving mostly as a fancy telescope.
From this perch, Gin hadn't just aimed at Shinichi Takeda; he'd also kept an eye on Ouzo's movements. So he'd seen Rob's whole show: the air gun popping BBs at the warehouse window, the truck yanking Takeda's neck like a marionette string.
Combined with the sight of Takeda's corpse pinned mid-air, the entire plot was easy to piece together.
Gin puffed on his cigarette, watching Shinichi Takeda dangling like a fly stuck in a web — wide-eyed, neck twisted.
He recalled his earlier impression of Ouzo's kill style: art.
Perfect locked-room flavor: the warehouse door sealed, the only window too small for escape, the victim strung up like a grotesque display piece.
It'd keep those clueless cops busy for days.
Compared to Gin's neat "one-shot snipe" plan, Ouzo's approach really did have the upper hand — no bullet casings to trace, just confusion everywhere and no fuss for the Organization.
Plus, Gin had to admit: the spectacle was dramatic enough to qualify as the "surprise" Ouzo always bragged about.
He'd also noticed Rob's skittish behavior: that foreigner had been dodging Ouzo all night, clearly thinking he was up against a normal detective.
If only he knew what he was really dealing with…
Combined with Ouzo's performance during that train chase yesterday, it was obvious his "artistry" had snapped back to normal — no more sloppy slip-ups, no accidental tip-offs that could compromise the Organization.
Good. No need to toss him at Vermouth just yet.
…Though letting Vermouth poke around wouldn't hurt. Maybe he'd even learn what she really thought of their pet yinbi detective.
Gin broke down the sniper rifle in smooth, practiced motions. Metal parts clicked back into their case, one by one.
While he worked, Vodka was still glued to his binoculars.
The magnified courtyard slowly shrank back to normal size, but Vodka's mind stayed stuck on the image — Shinichi Takeda's neck yanked backward, the spine-snapping crack, then the corpse strung up like some horror diorama.
Even from this distance, Vodka couldn't make out the fishing lines. But the final posture was nightmare fuel enough.
"…Isn't there some 'Lord Spider' legend around here?" Vodka mumbled. He lowered the binoculars, hand automatically rubbing at his own neck like he could still hear that sickening crack.
"He still likes propositional composition so much…"
Gin shot him a glance, smoke curling from his lips. "I thought you'd spout something dumber. Like, 'Time was too short — did he really do it?'"
Vodka: "…"
He wanted to argue, but honestly — it really did look like Ouzo's style. The ropes, the weird detail work, the layers of petty showmanship.
He shivered, hand still massaging his neck.
Then his eyes drifted to Gin's stand-collar trench coat, that neat layered high collar. He glanced down at his own shirt — short collar, zero neck protection.
A tiny seed of envy sprouted in Vodka's brain. Next time, he'd get one like Big Brother's. Maybe he could slip a neck brace under it. Better safe than sorry.
With that comforting thought, Vodka felt slightly more secure.
But then he remembered: Ouzo had just hopped in the murderer's car.
"Big Brother, we're just letting him go?" Vodka asked.
Gin zipped up the rifle bag and stared down the pitch-dark mountain road. "He's got his own ideas."
Trying to read Ouzo's mind was pointless — but the general gist was easy enough.
Either he found it too annoying to hunt the guy down on foot and wanted to get a confession en route… or maybe he was still riding that high from crafting his 'art piece' and felt like dragging the killer out somewhere quiet for a beating.
Could also be he was covering for the Organization's next move — not that Gin cared which.
He flipped out his satellite phone, thumbed a few keys, and barked into it: "It's done."
He'd borrowed a couple logistics guys from the Tottori branch. They'd handle the rest — snatch Takeda's list, grab the puppets with the hidden drugs, and torch whatever needed torching.
Rob could take the blame for the entire pot. With Ouzo now out stargazing with that foreigner and the girl, the timeline made him look squeaky clean.
A perfect alibi.
…Alibi.
Gin paused, turning that word over in his mind.
He'd never needed one himself.
Unexpectedly, he was now constantly encountering it.
Thinking about it, it was actually quite interesting: the detective, operating inside the rules, had secretly stretched his threads beyond the law — while the clueless police couldn't even see those webs, all stained with blood and despair… The art of irony.
Now, only Moon Shadow Island remained.
I wonder if Ouzo has any new surprises or scares waiting there… Tsk, should've asked him when I dropped him off at noon.
Gin glanced at the list in his notebook, his mood slightly complicated.
…
Vodka usually didn't carry much killing intent, making him a tough one for Jiangxia to sense.
Gin's killing intent was obvious, but once they were a certain distance away, neither Jiangxia nor his ghosts could pick it up.
So, Jiangxia had no idea he was being watched from the shadows.
However, as the truck rolled off, he still casually glanced around.
He remembered Gin saying they'd "arrive shortly" when he got dropped off that afternoon.
If the car carrying those two men in black hadn't gotten a flat halfway… they should've been nearby by now.
For some reason, though, they hadn't shown up.
Jiangxia let his eyes sweep the dark road one last time, found no sign of his diligent colleagues, and shrugged it off. Gin probably had his own ideas…
…
The truck rumbled on for nearly an hour.
Ahead, a quiet but orderly cemetery came into view.
White tombstones stood in rows, almost like dominoes. Misa, dead just three years, was buried near the front — her grave easy to spot.
Rob stared at her photo on the tombstone. A good sob felt appropriate, but with a detective standing next to him, he forced it back down.
Showing too much emotion for Misa might make these wild-imagination detectives link him to revenge.
Thankfully, he'd already visited a few days ago and let the worst of it out, so holding it in was bearable.
Jiangxia paused by the locked truck, then drifted toward the cemetery gates.
He overheard Rob, sounding like a tour guide, pointing out a small hill to Kazuha Toyama.
"That's the best spot for stargazing around here.
I heard someone even discovered a new comet there.
There aren't many people this season — come two months from now, you'd have to fight for a place to set up a telescope."
"Wow~!" Kazuha's eyes sparkled.
Since they were already here: "Let's go up and take a look."
Jiangxia didn't care much about stargazing, but Rob's description tickled something familiar in his mind. He nodded, following the two as they climbed over the fence and crunched up the rocky path toward the hill.
As they neared the foot of it, Kazuha's foot slipped — she'd stepped on something slick.
Jiangxia instinctively caught her arm before she could fall flat.
Kazuha hopped twice, heart racing, then shone her phone flashlight down at the ground. "What is that?"
The beam hit dirt — and a smooth, round skull.
Kazuha froze. "…."
"..."
"Ah—!!!"
A piercing scream tore through the mountain night, echoing far across the hills.
Jiangxia winced, plugging his ears. His fingertips brushed over his eyes — he randomly tugged on a ghost's power for night vision.
The dark forest snapped into sharp detail.
At the same time, he saw several jittery flashlight beams bouncing closer — people had heard the scream and were rushing over.
Four children and one adult — the Junior Detective League, with Professor Agasa leading the pack. Drawn by Kazuha's horror movie shriek.
…Hmm?
The Junior Detective League?
…
The kids ran like greased lightning, with Professor Agasa huffing and puffing after them, determined to see what disaster had just gone down in the middle of nowhere.
Kazuha, who'd just stepped on someone's head, heard footsteps and whipped her flashlight beam toward the new arrivals.
A moment of chaotic flashlights later, both sides froze when they saw each other clearly.
Rob and Kazuha, who hadn't met the Junior Detective League before, looked totally bewildered.
The kids, who definitely knew Jiangxia, just stood there like they'd spotted an actual ghost.
Jiangxia looked between them and sighed. He seemed to be the only link connecting these two random groups.
He peered down at the kids. "Why are you here?"
Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta glanced at each other, not sure what to say — a few seconds ago, the flashlights had swept across a bunch of bones scattered on the hillside: skulls, ribs, all bleached white.
Finding a skeleton was freaky enough, but finding it with Jiangxia-gege standing over it? Their brains short-circuited on the spot.
Ai Haibara also spotted the bones immediately.
Her eyes flicked over them like a forensic scanner — jawbone, femur, ribs… all nicely arranged under the stars.
Wilderness.
Jiangxia.
Random bones.
She strung those words together and her breath caught — was this part of one of Jiangxia's secret missions?
But then she glanced at the two people with him.
The foreign guy could've been anything, but the high school girl was definitely not a cadre. The scream had clearly come from her.
Given Jiangxia's usual caution, if these bones were his doing, he'd never have left them lying around like a public art exhibit.
So this was probably just Jiangxia doing what he did best — innocently going for a stroll and stumbling over a fresh murder.
Ai Haibara let out a silent sigh and forced herself to relax.
Seeing the other kids frozen, she spoke up for them.
"Professor Agasa's friend gave him a magazine about astronomy, and the children… cough… we were really interested. The professor was free today, so we came to check it out."
She glanced at Rob and Kazuha, then at the bones.
Reluctantly, she lumped herself into the "children" category — best not to overcomplicate things for the tool people.
"…" Jiangxia stared at her, then turned to Professor Agasa. His tone was bland, but his eyes were sharp. "When I asked you a few days ago, didn't you say you didn't have any trips planned?"
Professor Agasa felt an unexpected chill at the subtle scolding hidden in that flat voice.
He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Ah, well, this was a last-minute thing.
I heard you'd taken a case and the kids said they didn't want to bother you while you were busy — they were so sensible about it, I didn't want to ruin it."
He felt like he should be praising them for this good habit — not disturbing others' work was rare for these bear children.
While he explained, three small hands were already tugging at his sleeve, eyes begging him to shut up — but obviously, it was too late.
Hearing this, Jiangxia tilted his head and looked at the trio of "considerate" children.
"So that's how it is."
Somewhere in the shadows, his ghosts sighed too — 'Bear children will be bear children.'
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 15/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:4/10*