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Chapter 211: The Phone Call
The taxi sped through the night, the streetscape outside the window retreating rapidly into blurred ribbons of light.
The interior of the car was quiet, save for the soothing jazz playing on the radio and Mori Kogoro's occasional mumbled drunken slurring.
Conan huddled in the corner of the back seat, his left hand pressing the earphone tightly against his ear, his expression taut to the breaking point. His knuckles turned white from the force of his grip, and a layer of fine cold sweat seeped onto his forehead.
From the earphone came the crisp click of a lighter, followed by the sound of a deep inhalation, and then... a suffocating silence.
The man didn't speak.
This silence was more torturous than any noise.
Conan's heart pounded violently in his chest as he ran through countless possibilities in his mind.
Who exactly is that man named Blake?
A corporate spy? A professional hitman? Or a member of some criminal gang targeting Mori Kogoro?
Just as Conan's nerves were about to snap, a voice finally came through the earphone.
It was low, cold, and carried a metallic quality—a stark contrast to the gentle and refined "Brother Blake" from the restaurant.
"It's me."
Just two short words.
Conan's pupils contracted instantly.
Who is he calling?
No pleasantries, no polite greetings. This kind of direct opening usually implied a high degree of tacit understanding or a very strict hierarchical relationship between the two parties.
The person on the other end seemed to say something, and Blake chuckled. The laugh sounded exceptionally sinister when transmitted through the electric current.
"Don't rush me, Gin."
Boom!
It was as if a thunderclap had exploded in Conan's mind.
Conan, sitting in the seat, shuddered violently, his entire body stiffening like a rock.
Gin...
That guy from the Black Organization?
This Blake...
It's not just that he knows Gin.
That casual, even slightly impatient tone...
His status in that organization is definitely not low! He might even be on the same level as Gin!
Cold sweat instantly soaked the shirt on Conan's back.
Deep in the alley.
Blake leaned against the wall, holding the cheap cigarette he had only taken one drag from, watching the red light of the ember flicker.
He wasn't actually making a phone call.
But that didn't stop him from improvising. After all, for someone who had watched over a thousand episodes of Detective Conan, imitating the Organization's speaking style was a piece of cake.
He knew exactly how Conan was reacting right now. Just imagining that terrified little expression made his mood delightful.
"I know what you're anxious about," Blake said to the empty air, his tone lazy but revealing a heart-palpitating coldness. "The mess left by that trash Pisco is indeed a headache."
"However, don't take that so-called Famous Detective too seriously."
"Mori Kogoro?"
Blake chuckled, his laughter filled with disdain and mockery. "I was just beside him."
"He's just a middle-aged idiot who only knows how to drink, lust after women, and has a brain full of mush. Trash like that isn't even qualified for the Organization to make a move on."
In the taxi.
Hearing Blake's evaluation of his "future father-in-law," Conan's terrified heart settled slightly. Although the words were harsh, it at least meant the Organization didn't consider Mori Kogoro a real threat yet. As long as there wasn't a purge operation targeting the agency, everyone was safe for now.
However.
In the next second.
The voice from the earphone plunged Conan back into the abyss.
"However..."
Blake changed the subject, his voice lowering a few degrees, becoming even more sinister. "Although the detective is trash, the people around him are quite interesting."
Conan's heart skipped a beat.
People around him?
Ran? Or... me?
In the dim alley, only the scarlet spark at his fingertips flickered. Blake leaned against the moss-covered brick wall, continuing this monologue for an audience of one.
"That brat with glasses is indeed a bit interesting. Sharpness that doesn't befit a child." Blake blew out a smoke ring, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather. "But, he's just a smarter-than-average kid. Gin, aren't you being too sensitive? Such a small character isn't worth wasting a bullet on."
In the back of the taxi.
Conan covered the earphone tightly. Hearing this, his heart, which had been in his throat, finally dropped an inch.
Thank goodness.
He frantically comforted himself in his mind. This guy noticed something, but he hasn't thought in that direction yet. As long as Kudo Shinichi's identity isn't exposed, as long as Ran and Uncle aren't implicated, there's still room to maneuver.
Deep in the alley, a trash can emitted a nauseating sour stench. A stray cat darted onto the wall in fright, kicking down a few pebbles.
Blake turned a blind eye to this. He flexed the fingers holding the cigarette slightly, speaking to the void in a tone that was lazy and casual, as if chatting with an old friend about dinner, yet also like delivering a decree of life and death.
"Gin, your sense of smell has become dull."
"Sherry..."
In the back of the taxi.
Zzzzt—!
The sound of electric current mixed with that name drilled into his eardrums.
Conan's tense body jerked violently, his head slamming heavily against the car window.
Thud!
The muffled sound was exceptionally abrupt in the quiet car.
"Conan? What's wrong?" Ran turned around, looking worriedly at the pale-faced child beside her. "Did you hurt yourself just now?"
Conan couldn't hear Ran's voice at all.
In this instant, his world contained only the low male voice in the earphone.
Sherry!
That's Haibara Ai's codename in the Organization!
This man... this man named Blake really is one of them! And he's talking to Gin!
Does he know Haibara has shrunk?
Does he know I've shrunk too?
Boundless fear surged like a tidal wave, instantly drowning Conan's reason. Cold sweat rolled down his temples, dripping onto the back of his hand, icy to the bone.
In the alley.
Blake blew out a smoke ring, watching it curl upward in the darkness. Since he was acting, he might as well go all the way. He knew exactly how fragile the Big Head Detective's psychological defenses were right now.
"No need to be so nervous."
Blake chuckled, his voice carrying a nonchalant playfulness. "Since that woman likes playing hide-and-seek, let her hide a while longer."
"Compared to that frightened little mouse, I'm more interested in something else right now."
A pause.
A suffocating pause.
Conan clutched the earphone, his breathing almost stopped.
"Beika Town... is indeed an interesting testing ground."
Blake's voice dropped lower, revealing a creepy pleasure.
"That Mori Ran is a perfect subject."
Boom!
Conan's mind went blank.
Subject?
Experiment?
What does he want to do?
"Unique bone structure, abundant Qi and blood." Blake slowly wove his lie to the air. "If used to test the improved version of that 'new drug,' the survival rate should be very high, right?"
"After all, the previous test subjects were too fragile; they'd collapse with just a slightly higher dosage."
"If I can remodel her into a perfect biological weapon..."
"Heh, Gin, don't you think that would be a work of art?"
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