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Chapter 230: The Game of Life and Death
In the sealed restroom, the air seemed to solidify. The faint hum of the exhaust fan sounded like rolling thunder in Conan's ears.
He backed against the cold tiled wall, feet nailed to the spot, pupils shrinking as they reflected the tall figure of the silver-haired man.
Kudo Shinichi.
The moment that name left the other man's lips, Conan felt the blood in his entire body stop flowing.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
Blake leaned against the door panel, arms crossed over his chest. His deep eyes lowered slightly, looking down from a height at the stiff little boy before him.
Conan's left hand moved quietly behind his back, fingers groping for the cover of his stun-gun wristwatch.
Just one second.
If he could just make him unconscious for a few seconds, he could rush out and escape with Ran!
"If I were you, I wouldn't do something that stupid."
Blake's voice rang out abruptly, interrupting Conan's movement. "Putting a bug on me the first day we met—your greeting gift was quite unique, Famous Detective."
Blake's tone was flat, revealing neither anger nor joy.
"Since then... you knew?" Conan's voice was hoarse, carrying a trace of disbelief.
Since he discovered it long ago, why act out this play? Why wait until now to expose it?
"Because it was amusing." Blake's mouth hooked up, revealing a smile that made Conan's blood run cold. "Watching you pretend to be an innocent elementary schooler in front of me, watching you panic behind my back to protect that girl, watching you buzz around like a headless fly..."
Conan gritted his teeth and hesitated no longer.
Click.
The cover of the stun-gun wristwatch popped open, the aiming sight locking instantly onto Blake's neck. At this distance, he absolutely wouldn't miss!
Pfft!
A barely audible sound of piercing air rang out. The anesthetic needle, carrying Conan's last hope, shot toward the silver-haired man.
However.
In the next second, the hope in Conan's eyes turned into utter despair.
Blake didn't even dodge. He simply raised two fingers casually and pinched the air lightly. As if catching a falling leaf, or crushing an annoying fly.
"Too slow."
Blake shook his head, fingers applying slight pressure.
Snap.
The specially made anesthetic needle broke in two between his fingers and fell lightly to the floor.
Conan had nowhere to retreat. His back pressed tightly against the cold wall, cold sweat instantly soaking his shirt.
"You... What do you want?"
"What do I want?"
Blake stopped half a meter in front of him, bending down so his silver eyes looked directly into Conan's terrified ones.
Conan's voice was raspy, hands clawing at the grout lines behind him. "Let Ran go! She doesn't know anything! She's just an ordinary person!"
"Let her go?" Blake laughed lightly, as if he'd heard a funny joke.
He reached out and pressed his hand against the wall above Conan's head, trapping the small body in his shadow.
"Famous Detective, have you misunderstood something? I am the one controlling the situation now. You are not qualified to negotiate terms with me."
Blake bent slightly, bringing his mouth to Conan's ear. His warm breath hit the boy's cold cheek.
"Besides, killing is so boring. Only a brute like Gin, who knows nothing but shooting, goes around shouting about killing all day. I prefer watching a show."
Conan was stiff all over, forgetting even to breathe. Watching a show?
"How about we play a game?"
Blake straightened up, wearing that unpredictable gentle smile, looking just like a neighborly big brother coaxing a child. But in Conan's eyes, this smile was more hideous than a demon's.
"A game about 'Choice'."
Blake took out his phone and played with it casually in his hand.
"The rules are simple. My 'Murder Quota' is only one."
Conan looked up sharply, staring at Blake's eyes. One quota?
"What do you mean?"
"It means that in this Beika Town, there are two people you care about most, but tonight, I only plan to deal with one of them."
Blake held up a finger and waved it in front of Conan.
"Option A is your childhood sweetheart, Mori Ran. She is the perfect experimental subject. If I walk out now and pour that potion down her throat, or simply take her away..."
Blake paused, watching with satisfaction as bloodshot veins crept into Conan's eyes.
"Option B is that Sherry who betrayed the Organization. My subordinates are right now at Dr. Agasa's door. With just one phone call from me, that house will turn into a sea of fire."
Conan's heart felt like it was being crushed by a giant invisible hand, painful beyond breath.
Ran.
Haibara.
Two names pressed on his heart like two mountains.
"Choose, Great Detective." Blake's voice was as soft as reciting poetry.
"Will you save your childhood sweetheart and watch the little scientist who shares your plight be burned to ash? Or will you sacrifice the girl you love most for the sake of so-called justice and responsibility to save that traitor?"
"Only one can live."
"You... You lunatic!" Conan screamed, his voice turning sharp and broken from extreme fear and anger. "They are both innocent! This has nothing to do with them! Come at me! If you want to kill someone, kill me!"
Blake raised an eyebrow, his eyes revealing a hint of boredom. "Self-sacrifice? What a cliché trope."
He took a step forward, his leather shoe tapping on the marble floor with a crisp clack. This sound felt like it stepped right on Conan's heart.
"Kudo Shinichi, haven't you figured out the situation yet? Your life is worthless in my eyes. I don't need your life; I just need to watch a good show."
Blake leaned down, his face closing in until it was only centimeters from Conan's.
"This is the reality you have to face. The so-called Famous Detective, the so-called Savior—in the face of absolute power, you don't even have the right to choose how you die."
"Didn't you want to protect everyone? Now the chance is given to you. Sacrifice one to save the other."
Conan bit his lip hard, the taste of rusty blood spreading in his mouth. His brain was spinning madly. What other way is there? Notify Akai Shuichi? Too late. And even if Akai rushes in now, what about Dr. Agasa's side?
"It seems you need a little motivation."
Blake straightened up and looked at the watch on his wrist.
"Ten seconds."
Two simple words instantly shattered Conan's last fluke of hope.
"In ten seconds, if you haven't made a choice, I will assume you have chosen to abandon both."
"Ten."
The countdown began. Each number was like a heavy hammer smashing into Conan's taut nerves.
"Nine."
"Stop! I beg you, stop!" Conan hugged his head with both hands, his body sliding down the wall to kneel on the floor. That feeling of powerlessness was ten thousand times more despairing than when his body shrank.
"Eight."
Blake's voice had no fluctuation, cold as a precision machine.
"Seven."
═════ To Be Continued ═════
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