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Chapter 210: The Tracker
The corners of Blake's mouth turned up slightly, revealing a smile full of interest, as if he had discovered an amusing toy.
He deliberately spoke to Ran in a gentle tone laced with a hint of confusion: "Miss Mori, the little brother in your family seems to have a lot of hostility toward me."
"Conan!"
Ran panicked immediately. She pulled Conan behind her, her face full of apology. "I'm sorry, Mr. Blake! This child isn't usually like this!"
Dragged by Ran, Conan felt a fire burning in his heart.
Big fat liar!
He wanted to shout, but his mouth was covered by Ran's hand.
"Conan, apologize to Mr. Blake quickly!"
Looking at Conan's eyes burning with rage and unwillingness, Blake thought, if 'Yi Jian Mei' started playing right now, the atmosphere would be even more perfect.
Seeing the teasing look in Blake's eyes, Conan calmed down instantly.
I can't do this!
Continuing like this will only play into this man's hands.
I must endure the humiliation for the greater mission.
He took a deep breath, broke free from behind Ran, and lowered his head, looking like a child who had done something wrong. He gripped the hem of his shirt tightly with both hands, his toes rubbing uneasily against the ground.
"I'm sorry... Brother Blake."
Calling out "Brother Blake" made Conan feel like his stomach was churning. When had Kudo Shinichi ever suffered such humiliation!
But he endured it.
He looked up, staring at Blake with innocent big eyes, and continued in a childish tone, "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was wrong."
This obedient appearance made Ran sigh in relief and brought a satisfied look to Mori Kogoro's face.
"That's more like it!" Kogoro huffed.
Just as everyone thought the farce was ending, Conan took two steps forward, walking right up to Blake. He looked up, seemingly wanting to say something more.
Suddenly, he seemed to trip over something. With a cry of surprise, his body lunged uncontrollably toward Blake.
"Ah!"
The accident happened too fast for anyone to react.
Blake sat in his chair, unmoving. Conan's small body crashed into his arms, his forehead hitting Blake's soft cashmere sweater.
"Be careful!" Ran exclaimed, stepping forward to support Conan.
And in that instant, just as everyone's attention was attracted by his "fall," the index finger and thumb of the small hand Conan had braced against Blake's chest moved rapidly.
A flesh-colored transmitter and listening device, barely larger than a thumbnail, was silently stuck to the inner lapel of Blake's suit jacket with adhesive on his fingertip.
This was Dr. Agasa's latest invention. Unless one took off the clothes and checked carefully, it was impossible to find.
Having done all this, Conan pretended to be shaken and looked up from Blake's arms.
"S-Sorry..."
Blake's gaze was deep, quietly watching him, his face devoid of emotion. But the moment Conan met his eyes, he clearly saw a playful glint of omniscience deep in those silver pupils.
That look seemed to say: I saw your little trick.
Conan's heart constricted violently!
Was I discovered?
Impossible! My movements were lightning fast; no one could have seen clearly!
It must be an illusion! This man is bluffing!
"It's okay."
A warm, large hand landed gently on the top of his head, rubbing his hair tenderly. Blake's voice held a trace of a smile, sounding incredibly tolerant.
"It's normal for children to be unsteady on their feet. Just be careful next time."
His gentle tone and soothing action made Conan feel a bone-chilling coldness.
This man is too scary.
"Alright, alright, no harm done." Mori Kogoro walked over and picked Conan up. "Since you apologized, let's consider the matter closed. Mr. Blake, you are a generous man, don't lower yourself to this brat's level."
"Of course not." Blake withdrew his hand, turning his gaze to Ran and Eri, who had calmed down. "We've exchanged contacts. Once I have the herbs ready, I will notify you immediately."
With matters settled, the farce concluded.
Inspector Megure had finished wrapping up the scene and was ready to leave. The Mori family thanked Blake repeatedly before leaving with the police to give their statements.
Conan, led by the hand by Ran, looked back every few steps at the silver-haired man still sitting leisurely in his seat. He clenched his fists tightly, nails digging deep into his palms.
Just you wait, Blake!
I will definitely expose your true colors!
Night deepened in Beika Town, neon signs casting dappled lights on the damp pavement.
Outside the French restaurant next to Café Poirot, police lights flashed before speeding away.
Blake stood by the roadside, one hand in his trouser pocket, watching the police car carrying the Mori family and Inspector Megure disappear at the end of the street. The night wind was slightly cool, blowing his silver hair.
He raised his right hand, his slender fingers gently brushing over the inner lapel of his suit jacket. His fingertips touched a tiny, almost imperceptible hard object.
It was the gift Conan had left during his "fall."
"Heh."
A light chuckle dissipated in the wind.
Quite exquisite.
As expected of the Jealousy King.
"Since you want to listen so badly..."
Blake turned around. Instead of walking toward the high-end apartment he had just bought, he turned into a dim, deserted alley. His footsteps echoed in the quiet alleyway, sounding exceptionally clear.
Walking deep into the alley, Blake stopped and leaned against the rough brick wall. He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket—not a famous brand, just something bought from a convenience store.
Click.
The flame of the lighter danced in the darkness, igniting the tobacco. Taking a deep drag, smoke curled up, blurring his smiling silver eyes.
In the next second, his aura changed abruptly.
That lazy, gentle, even slightly cynical air vanished without a trace. Replacing it was a suffocating coldness. It was like an Asura who had walked through mountains of corpses and seas of blood for years, or a venomous snake lurking in the abyss. Even just standing there, the surrounding air seemed to drop a few degrees.
If someone who killed frequently were present, they would surely be weak in the knees from this terrifying killing intent.
"It's me."
A low, hoarse voice devoid of any emotion rang out in the dark alley.
...
On the other side, in the moving taxi.
Mori Kogoro sat in the passenger seat, still chattering about how much money the free medicinal bath would save. In the back seat, Ran was staring blankly at the night view outside the window, the flush on her cheeks not yet faded.
Conan sat beside Ran, tightly clutching the arm of his tracking glasses. He stuffed the left earphone into his ear, his expression grave to the extreme.
I must hear something!
That silver-haired man is absolutely not simple!
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