Twenty minutes later, Inspector Megure arrived with his team.
He secured the scene first, then gathered everyone in the museum lobby.
Among them was the old man who appeared in countless Conan fanfictions—Director Ochiai.
Looking at his tall, thin, bald, squint-eyed figure with a long white beard, it was hard to believe someone who could wear such heavy armor could also easily lift the deceased and nail him to the wall. His arm strength was truly something.
After all, the victim's round physique suggested he weighed at least 150 pounds.
"Hoshino-kun."
Inspector Megure nodded to Kurosawa Hoshino, then turned a stern gaze toward Director Ochiai. "Director, did you know the victim?"
"We all called him Mr. Manaka. He took over the museum—he's our new owner."
"Then—"
"Inspector Megure."
Kurosawa Hoshino cut in. He was looking toward the brightly lit "Hell Exhibition Hall" and pointed to a corner near the ceiling. "There's a camera there. It should have captured the footage."
"Right. Let's check the surveillance room." Inspector Megure clapped his hands and led everyone there.
Inside the surveillance room, Megure had the footage pulled up.
The recording hadn't been deleted. Soon, everyone watched as Mr. Manaka entered the Hell Exhibition Hall. As he looked around, a suit of armor holding a longsword moved—striking him twice before lifting him and pinning him to the wall.
"Hiss—" Inspector Megure sucked in a breath.
"This… this is…" Ran trembled, terrified less by the murder and more by the armor moving on its own. It felt supernatural.
Vermouth narrowed her eyes. She didn't believe in ghosts—this was clearly a person in armor playing tricks.
"Hoshino, any ideas?" Sonoko asked.
Inspector Megure's ears perked up. He immediately looked over, his gaze expectant.
"Well…"
The mild-mannered Director Ochiai hesitated, as if he had something to say.
But he no longer had the chance. Kurosawa Hoshino's voice filled the surveillance room:
"Inspector Megure, doesn't this murder seem full of holes?"
"Uh… really?" Megure was embarrassed—he hadn't spotted any holes at all.
He glanced at his subordinates. Under his gaze, the officers looked away, studying the ceiling or floor as if they'd found something fascinating there.
Used to this, Hoshino continued calmly, "Inspector, look at that huge suit of armor. It's heavy. First, wearing it and standing still while setting up exhibits would be exhausting. Then there's the armor itself. Don't you think the perpetrator might leave fingerprints? Friction between armor and skin could leave epithelial cells, hair, even saliva from talking or coughing."
He paused.
"That's why I said there are a lot of holes this time. Don't you think, Inspector?"
"Y-yeah…"
Megure's face reddened. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, then straightened up and barked at his team, "Where's forensics? Get them here now to examine and collect samples from that armor!"
"No need."
An aged voice cut through the room, halting the officers and drawing everyone's attention.
All eyes turned to Director Ochiai, who had just spoken.
"I killed him."
"Director… why?" An employee asked, incredulous. The others were equally stunned.
Director Ochiai looked at Kurosawa Hoshino and sighed. "I designed many details, thinking they could mislead the police. It seems I was overconfident."
Heh.
Kurosawa Hoshino thought that if Conan hadn't been involved in the original story, they might have actually succeeded.
If he weren't here now, these officers might have left empty-handed.
Inspector Megure asked, "Director Ochiai, why did you kill Mr. Manaka?"
Director Ochiai slowly raised his head. "You may find my reason laughable. I killed him because I didn't want Mr. Manaka to destroy this museum and sell these artworks… artworks I've treated as my own children."
Heh.
Vermouth chuckled softly. "Just like that huge painting. The knight slays the demon, but is corrupted by the demon's cursed blood."
Ran and Sonoko seemed to ponder her words.
And so, it ended.
After Director Ochiai was taken away, Inspector Megure approached again, rubbing his hands with a smile. "Hoshino-kun, we owe you one again."
"Just happened to be passing by." Kurosawa Hoshino glanced at the extra Origin Points on his system panel, quite satisfied.
"Um, Hoshino-kun, reporters are outside. You might want to prepare," Inspector Megure added.
"Reporters?"
Kurosawa Hoshino and the others were surprised.
Vermouth's expression shifted. She hadn't disguised herself today—just a hat and sunglasses. She couldn't appear before reporters' cameras.
"Yeah." Inspector Megure patted Hoshino's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll have my men hold them back. They won't swarm you. Ready?"
"Sigh. Let's go, then."
Kurosawa Hoshino was almost used to reporter interviews by now. After all, he was stealing Conan's thunder—he was destined to grow more famous. Unavoidable.
And so, when Kurosawa Hoshino appeared before the reporters again, they were surprised.
They hadn't expected it to be Kurosawa Hoshino again. He'd been appearing quite frequently lately.
Some reporters already had tomorrow's headlines in mind:
[New Police Savior: A Rising High School Detective Star]
[The Secret Shinichi Kudo and His Classmates Have to Tell You—Their Secret Might Be the Key to Becoming a Famous Detective]
[Rising Detective Star Teaches: How to Get a Confession in Three Minutes]
Half an hour later, the interview ended.
Dusk was settling.
"Phew…"
Kurosawa Hoshino let out a long breath and headed to the museum's parking lot, where a police car was waiting—arranged by Inspector Megure to take them home.
"Ran, where's Ms. Chris?" Hoshino asked, noticing Vermouth's absence.
"Ms. Chris said she had work and left through the back door while you were being interviewed. But it's okay—we exchanged contact info. We can meet again." Ran smiled.
Sonoko chimed in, "I think Ms. Chris has great style. Even with sunglasses covering half her face, her outfit alone is eye-catching. I should find a chance to learn from her."
Kurosawa Hoshino stopped talking. Leaning back comfortably in the seat, he listened to their casual chatter as the car pulled away.