The Name Behind the Curtain
The chairman's office was silent.
Too silent.
Keith sat alone, fingers pressed against his temples, sapphire eyes narrowed at the holographic data floating before him. Lines, names, timelines—nothing aligned. Events overlapped when they shouldn't. Deaths came too early. Revelations arrived too late.
"…The Detective Conan world timeline is scrambled," Keith muttered.
"This is giving me a headache."
He exhaled slowly and looked up.
"Red Queen," he said.
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
Red Queen: Awaiting command, Master.
"Give me everything on Yusaku Kudo and Lisana Kudo. No filters."
Red Queen: Request accepted. Estimated time: twenty minutes.
Keith leaned back, eyes closed.
Something felt wrong. Deeply wrong.
Twenty Minutes Later
The red hologram flared brighter.
Files unfolded—financial records, political connections, erased histories.
Keith's eyes sharpened.
"So that's it…"
Lisana Kudo's family wasn't just wealthy.
They were powerful.
Her father had once controlled a syndicate—not a street-level operation, but a shadow network tied to politicians, financiers, and intelligence brokers. The syndicate officially collapsed after his death.
Officially.
"…No successor listed," Keith murmured.
"No arrests. No asset seizures."
That meant only one thing.
"Red Queen," Keith said calmly, "track all individuals who worked under Lisana Kudo's father. Cross-check them against every known organization."
Red Queen: Analyzing. Estimated time: twenty minutes.
Keith's fingers tapped once against the desk.
He already knew the answer would be ugly.
The Threads Converge
The hologram shifted.
Names scattered—then reorganized.
Keith froze.
"…They dispersed."
Former syndicate members had infiltrated multiple organizations—corporations, intelligence agencies, private military groups.
And then—
Two names glowed brighter than the rest.
Affiliated with the Black Organization.
Keith's pupils contracted.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
The Call
Without hesitation, Keith activated a secure line.
The call connected quickly.
"Keith," Karasuma Renya's voice came through—deep, controlled… but heavy.
"I was about to contact you."
Keith felt it immediately.
Grief.
"I know," Keith said gently.
"I'm sorry about Ethan."
There was a pause.
"…Another godson lost," Renya said quietly.
Keith closed his eyes for a fraction of a second—but did not reveal the truth.
Instead, he asked, "Great-grandfather… is Rum with you right now?"
"Yes," Renya replied. "He's here."
"Good," Keith said. "I'm sending you two profiles. Rum—check their status."
The data transferred instantly.
On the other end, silence.
Then—
Rum spoke.
"These two… Barolo and Sauternes," he said, naming them by their wine codenames.
"They're core members. High clearance. Loyalty rating is excellent."
Keith smiled faintly.
"When did they join?" he asked.
Rum checked again.
"…Four years ago."
Keith's smile vanished.
"Four years before Andrew Starling died," he said.
Rum frowned. "Why does that matter?"
Keith's tone hardened.
"Put the phone on speaker."
A click.
"Great-grandfather," Keith said evenly, "those two men—Barolo and Sauternes—were originally part of Lisana Kudo's father's syndicate."
Silence.
"They infiltrated multiple organizations," Keith continued, voice calm but lethal.
"Two of them entered the Black Organization. And those two leaked the movements and locations of Ethan Hondou and Andrew Starling."
No one spoke.
The weight of the realization settled slowly.
Renya inhaled sharply.
"…If that's true," he said, "then the leaks weren't accidents."
"They weren't," Keith replied.
"They were orders."
Rum's voice was low now. "Then the syndicate never died."
"No," Keith said.
"It evolved."
The Name That Shouldn't Be Spoken
Keith leaned forward.
"There's only one person who benefits from all of this," he said.
"One man with the intelligence, political insulation, literary reputation, and perfect public cover."
He let the name fall like a blade.
"Yusaku Kudo."
The line went dead silent.
Rum didn't speak.
Renya didn't breathe.
Keith continued, voice steady.
"Yusaku Kudo married into syndicate power, distanced himself publicly, let the old structure 'collapse,' then rebuilt it as something untraceable."
"A myth," Renya murmured.
"A ghost," Keith corrected.
"Zoo."
Another pause.
"…You're saying," Renya said slowly, "that Yusaku Kudo may be the true boss."
"Yes," Keith answered.
"And he used Yukiko, discarded her, used Lisana's legacy, sacrificed Andrew Starling, framed others… and hid behind novels and intellect."
The dots fit.
Too perfectly.
Rum finally spoke, voice sharp.
"If this is true… then we've been dancing in someone else's palm for years."
Keith's eyes burned cold.
"Not anymore," he said.
"I've found the curtain."
He ended the call.
And alone in the office, Keith whispered—
"Now let's see what happens when the author becomes the suspect."