Chapter 54: The Witches' Corridor of Double Despair
Kogoro's Witch Labyrinth was now overlaid with the aura of the newborn Witch of Ran.
The space distorted even more violently.
The "Mouri Detective Agency" plaques flickered on countless doors, the lettering so blurry it seemed on the verge of disappearing completely. The clack-clack-clack of the typewriter, the shuffle of mahjong tiles, and the drunken mumbling of a man now intertwined with a girl's sorrowful sobs and the sharp whistle of karate strikes. The sounds merged into a maddening cacophony.
Gin sidestepped a stack of sloppily written case files that fell from the ceiling. They slammed onto the ground and scattered into countless sheets of failed deductions, which then tried to wrap around his ankles. He couldn't even be bothered to clear them with magic, simply stepping over them with cold indifference.
A deep blue Soul Gem glittered on the black gothic lolita dress he wore in his transformed state. But the edges of that faint light were now visibly surrounded by corruption.
Dammit! What the hell is this place?!
One moment it was a hallway filled with empty bottles, the next it was an abyss of collapsing horse-racing tickets. Those blurry shadow-figures in trench coats were like unkillable cockroaches. He'd blast one to pieces with his magic gun, and more would just crawl out from behind a pile of files or a doorway to harass him.
And now, things were even worse.
Pink petals had begun to drift through the air. They looked harmless, but their edges were as sharp as razors. One petal grazed Gin's cheek, leaving behind a thin, bloody line.
At the same time, the behavior of the shadow Familiars changed. They would sometimes stop abruptly, let out a mournful whimper, and then charge forward with even greater ferocity. In the distance, new, vaguely-shaped Familiars—like giant statues made of broken karate tiles and wilted orchids—began to roam the chaotic maze of the detective agency. Their movements were slow, but they radiated a much stronger sense of pressure.
"Aniki!" Vodka's voice held a barely perceptible tremor. His dark grey maid outfit was filthy, his face etched with exhaustion. His Soul Gem, a deep grey stone, was so dim it had almost lost its luster. The constant fighting against the Familiars and the pervasive psychological corruption of this place had drained him far more than he'd expected.
"Shut up!" Gin snapped, raising his gun. A blast of blue magic disintegrated a weeping, broken-angel Familiar that had tried to get close. The Familiar broke apart, but its constituent pieces didn't vanish. Instead, they transformed into more of the sharp, pink petals, which swirled toward them.
Gin frowned, firing again to clear a path while pulling Vodka back. He could feel his magic draining at an accelerated rate, the corruption on his Soul Gem spreading faster. He had to find an exit soon, or… destroy this damn place completely.
But the moment the thought crossed his mind, the ground beneath them vanished.
They plunged downward. Below was not solid ground, but a river formed from countless broken cell phone screens, all scrolling with missing person alerts and notifications of unanswered calls.
…
Elsewhere.
Shuichi Akai gasped for breath, leaning against a teetering pile of case reports. Although he had only recently made his contract with Kyubey and had plenty of magic, the color of his Soul Gem was darkening at an alarming rate. Every time he swung the sniper rifle formed from his magic, every time he released energy to block the relentless attacks, his power was consumed and his soul corrupted.
The deaths of Sera and Shukichi, the sacrifice of his mother, and this unwilling contract… all these emotions swirled within him, making his killing intent in battle sharper, but also making him more susceptible to the Labyrinth's negative influence.
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps approached. Akai instantly raised his weapon, on high alert.
It was Tooru Amuro, who burst into view looking even worse than Akai. His transformed outfit was in tatters, his golden hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. The dimness of his Soul Gem was nearly on par with Vodka's.
The two made eye contact, and each saw the gravity in the other's eyes, as well as a complex emotion that was hard to define.
Former enemies. Recent allies. And now, Magical "Girls" trapped in the same cage of despair.
"Out of my way!" Amuro snarled, not stopping for a second. He seemed to be chasing or searching for something.
Akai didn't move.
A moment later, three shadow Familiars and a dense shower of pink petals appeared behind Amuro. He threw up a magical barrier to defend himself. Almost instinctively, Akai raised his hand and fired a concentrated blast of magic, precisely destroying the three shadows.
Amuro paused, glancing back at Akai, but said nothing more and continued to push forward. Akai watched him go, tightening the grip on his weapon. In this hell, past grudges were meaningless.
Surviving was the only thing that mattered.
Or… should I find Gin again and end things here?
The thought made the gem on his chest throb, and the darkness seemed to deepen by another shade. He shook his head, trying to banish the inopportune idea.
…
In a corner.
Vermouth's figure weaved through the chaotic agency, her movements lighter and more ghostly than the others. Her Soul Gem, a silver gem representing mystery and disguise, was also covered in a layer of grey, but the corruption seemed to be spreading more slowly compared to Gin or Amuro.
Her perfect mimicry ability was having an unexpected effect in this twisted maze of logic. She could briefly imitate the aura of the low-level Familiars, allowing her to slip through contested areas like a ghost and avoid pointless energy expenditure.
But now, the situation had clearly changed.
Vermouth stopped, frowning slightly as she watched a pink petal drift down onto her gloved hand. It looked delicate, but its edges held a hidden sharpness.
The air, once filled with Kogoro Mouri's despair—a mix of tobacco, alcohol, and failure—was now infused with a new, sharper kind of sorrow. It felt as if something… had shattered. Something pure and protected.
She heard it. Amidst the background noise of typewriters, mahjong tiles, and drunken ramblings, there was now a faint, suppressed sobbing of a young girl. And… the sharp whistle of karate strikes cutting through the air!
Vermouth's gaze sharpened instantly.
Pink… sobbing… karate…
The elements inevitably made her think of one person. The girl she called "Angel."
Could it be…
She sensed that the original Witch's aura, belonging to the chaotic and paranoid detective, was now intertwining and fusing with a nascent aura, one filled with grief, a desire to protect, and utter despair.
"No… it can't be…" Vermouth muttered, her usually composed face showing genuine shock and a hint of disbelief for the first time. "Angel… you too…?"
In that moment, she understood. Kogoro Mouri's Witchification was only the beginning. And now, Ran Mouri had followed in his footsteps.
Wait…
Vermouth's brow furrowed as a key question surfaced. She remembered clearly. During the initial chaos when Kogoro's Soul Gem shattered and the Labyrinth formed, she had used the brief window of opportunity to push Conan and Ran toward the relative safety of the underground tunnel entrance. Although she herself hadn't managed to escape completely, those two kids… especially Ran, should have been outside the core area of the Labyrinth, possibly even inside the tunnel already.
How did she get back in? Or… did she never manage to escape? Or did she… run back in on her own?
Why?
Was it because she found out about her father? Or was it some other unbearable blow?
Countless possibilities flashed through Vermouth's mind, but they all pointed to one cruel fact: her "Angel," the one she thought was different, had failed to escape the whirlpool of despair after all.
This Labyrinth was no longer just the manifestation of a failed detective's psyche. It had become a horrifying domain built upon the double despair of a father and daughter.
No wonder…
No wonder the Familiars' attack patterns had become more chaotic, more lethal. No wonder the sense of despair in the air was so thick it was almost tangible, making even her mimicry difficult.
"This is truly… the worst-case scenario," Vermouth breathed, forcing herself to calm down.
Her mimicry-enhanced senses detected Gin and Vodka's pathetic fall in the distance, and she noted Akai and Amuro struggling on their own. The feeling that rose within her wasn't schadenfreude, but a cold chill. They hadn't even seen the Witches themselves yet, and they were already in mortal danger from the Familiars alone.
Faced with the fully merged power of these two Witches, who could possibly survive?
And the little boy… what about Conan?
Is he in here too? Did he… come back as well? Did he… witness everything?
A deeply complex emotion flashed through Vermouth's mind, so fast she could barely grasp it. Was it regret? Regret that she failed to ensure the children's escape? Or… was it something else?
As her thoughts raced, an intense sense of danger—a mixture of two distinct but equally insane wills—crashed down on her.
Vermouth didn't even have time to think. Her body reacted on pure combat instinct, leaping backward.
BOOM—!!!
A massive, grotesque Familiar slammed down where she had just been standing.
Its form was utterly twisted, as if forcibly glued together from the torn pages of detective novels, stained case files, a shredded black karate belt, and wilted orchid petals. It had no facial features, only two hollow eyes.
One eye dripped with the filthy, black tar that represented the detective Kogoro.
The other shed pink tears containing razor-sharp petals, belonging to Ran.
Vermouth's expression became utterly grave.
This was bad.
This corridor of sorrow, built from the double despair of a father and a daughter…
There was likely no escape.