(Double Chap)
The computer was still there, but the person was gone. There were no signs of a struggle, no bullet holes, and the laptop was still open...
Based on this, Gin speculated that Pisco might have left the wine cellar temporarily due to some unexpected event—only to be intercepted before he could return, which would explain the prolonged radio silence.
Fortunately, Pisco had remembered to lock the door behind him. Sherry didn't know how to pick locks. If she'd been brought here, she'd likely still be in the room.
Thinking this, Gin slowly paced the wine cellar, his gaze drifting across several possible hiding spots.
Midway through, when he reached the fireplace that connected to the chimney, his eyes landed on a single reddish-brown hair at the base. He gave a cold smile, the kind a hunter flashes when the prey is right on the edge of the net.
He leaned closer. Beneath the layer of soot, he could still hear faint, suppressed breathing—strained, but persistent.
Gin caressed the dark pistol in his pocket, lowered his head, and stared into the dirty fireplace. Thinking of Sherry's nature and her usual escape routes, a new idea surfaced.
When Vodka called out, "Brother, let's check somewhere else," Gin answered deliberately and turned toward the door.
Rather than pulling Sherry out of the grimy fireplace like a cat playing with a mouse, he preferred to let her struggle her way up to the rooftop with all her strength—only to find the organization waiting for her in the swirling snow.
Now that would be a reunion worth remembering. Plus, it spared him from getting soot and cobwebs all over his coat.
Gin quickly left the wine cellar with Vodka, heading up the stairs to lie in wait.
—
Perched on top of the display cabinet by the wall, near the edge of the wine cellar...
The mermaid, who had been lurking alongside Miyano Akemi, pounced and caught Gin's overwhelming killing intent.
The Tengu flapped its wings and followed, carefully catching and holding the killing intent like a dutiful assistant carrying shopping bags.
From the moment Gin stepped into the cellar, his killing intent had been unusually strong—far more than his norm. And when he paused by the fireplace, both the intensity and volume of it spiked to new heights.
The mermaid happily plucked away at it, working efficiently. According to Jiangxia, Gin would likely stay in this intense state for a while—possibly even escalate further depending on what happened next.
Thinking this, the mermaid daintily wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve.
The Tengu, meanwhile, caught another ribbon of killing intent—but something felt wrong.
Looking closer, it spotted two neat rows of tiny bite marks.
"…"
It looked at the tooth marks. Then it looked at the mermaid.
Without a word, it smoothed out the bitten piece and clutched it tightly, choosing life over confrontation.
—
Once the two men in black—and two freeloading ghosts—had exited, the wine cellar door softly clicked shut.
Inside the chimney, the adult-sized Sherry trembled and exhaled shakily.
She had been wedged face-up inside, limbs pressed against opposite walls to hold her in place. Now that Gin and Vodka were gone, and with the bullet-damaged door hanging loosely in its frame, she could technically leave at any time.
But after flexing her numb fingers slightly, she didn't drop down. Nor did she consider slipping out through the main door.
She was worried that Gin or Vodka hadn't gone far—or worse, might suddenly double back for a surprise attack. That would spell the end for her.
Better to tough it out and climb all the way up to the roof.
Resolved, Sherry started to inch upward—
—but her back suddenly tightened.
Someone had grabbed her coat from below.
The sudden hand, the sudden presence, made Sherry freeze. Her heart, which had just started to calm down, leapt back into overdrive. Cold sweat soaked her back. Her mind instantly conjured the image of Gin—one hand gripping her, the other raising his pistol, a faint, terrifying smile spreading across his face.
Before that horror movie frame could turn into a full-blown GIF complete with splattered blood…
A soft, somewhat ethereal voice drifted up from below: "Let go."
…It wasn't Gin.
It was a woman's voice. Familiar.
Haibara Ai blinked, then twisted her body slightly to glance down.
She saw a woman in a black dress and wide-brimmed black hat looking up at her. The woman's expression was calm, her features gentle. In the dim fireplace light, her face blurred just enough to resemble Miyano Akemi's—and that resemblance hit Sherry like a wave of warmth and longing.
There was a moment of silent eye contact.
Then Anonymous tugged at her coat again and gently repeated, "Let go."
Without hesitation, Haibara obeyed. She released her grip and dropped.
Anonymous caught her securely around the waist and set her down.
As Sherry stumbled, she instinctively reached out and steadied herself on Anonymous's shoulder.
Once she was standing, she noticed that her dusty hand had left a gray print on Anonymous's flawless black outfit.
"…"
Sherry stiffened. It felt exactly like stepping full-footed onto an HR manager's brand-new leather shoes at a job interview.
She was just about to sneakily brush off the mark when Anonymous beat her to it—nodding gently, a note of genuine relief in her voice. "You did very well."
—Jiangxia hadn't witnessed the scene directly, but based on the reports from the mermaid and the Tengu, Gin's killing intent had indeed spiked when he got near Sherry—even though there was a wall between them.
Even now, as Gin climbed the stairs, Jiangxia could still faintly feel that thick pressure, despite the distance.
...A truly terrifying human being. So much potential.
Haibara looked up at Anonymous's faint but sincere smile and felt slightly dazed.
...She really does look like my sister.
Come to think of it, when Anonymous said "you did very well," didn't that mean she passed the test?
Slowly, Sherry reached out and took hold of Anonymous's sleeve. Her voice was soft, a mix of pleading and hope. "Take me with you."
Truthfully, up until just now, she had felt some unease toward these ghostlike Anonymous figures—unclear motives, disappearing and reappearing at will. She'd also felt some instinctive resistance to the whole mysterious organization they represented.
But now, holding Anonymous's arm, looking at her familiar face... she felt something else.
Home.
Following them... maybe she wouldn't have to worry about dragging innocent people into disaster anymore.
And, she could see Anonymous often.
The woman rarely showed up in public, which implied she stayed mostly at the group's base. That meant they'd have time to be around each other.
Jiangxia, still caught up in the distant haze of Gin's killer aura, was jolted back to reality by the feel of Sherry's hand on his sleeve.
He replayed her words—"Take me with you"—and a giant question mark slowly formed above his head.
"…"
Why were they all lining up to join this fake organization he'd casually made up?
Jiangxia didn't actually mind having a chef.
But unfortunately, he lacked the energy cores needed to maintain one puppet per subordinate. The whole "build a base" dream was light-years away.
And even if he could, Jiangxia wouldn't waste his precious killing intent and puppets on running some startup.
So, just as Sherry made up her mind to join an organization with unclear motives and mystery-grade HR policies, she saw the "recruiter" shake her head and calmly say,
"You should go back."
"…?"
Haibara Ai's arms, which were still wrapped around her, stiffened.
After a moment of hesitation, she asked quietly, a little anxious,
"Did I… do something wrong just now?"
…Was her chimney-climbing speed too slow? But didn't Anonymous just say she "did very well"?
Jiangxia was also confused by the question, with just as many question marks floating in his head as she had in hers.
But he didn't show it. Maintaining the elegance of a Queen, he skipped past the parts he didn't understand and focused on her reluctance to return to the Professor's house.
"Don't worry about a leak," he said, still disguised as Miyano Akemi, calmly and illegally uttering words of assassination. "Pisco won't survive the night."
Haibara Ai's heart gave a sharp pang at that.
At first, she thought she was simply shocked—that someone as gentle as Anonymous could speak so easily about eliminating a member of the organization, taking a life. She had always known, vaguely, that Anonymous and her sister were not the same person, but moments like this shattered any comforting illusions.
But then she realized—no, that pang had been physical.
Her antidote was wearing off.
She had deliberately chosen the shortest-duration one, calculating she could scale the chimney before it kicked in. That plan had depended on Gin and Vodka not hovering in the wine cellar like shopping aunties at a clearance sale, and on Anonymous not randomly showing up mid-escape.
But now...
Haibara stood trembling in the wine cellar as faint white smoke started to rise from her body.
Through her blurry vision, she saw Anonymous calmly unzip a large shoulder bag she had somehow pulled from the void.
—
Half a minute later, Haibara Ai was kneeling on the ground in oversized clothing, recovering from the painful side effects of the transformation antidote.
In front of her, Anonymous zipped open the bag and turned it toward her. It had mesh sides for ventilation.
"Get in. I'll carry you out."
Haibara Ai: "…"
The two identities she had mentally superimposed—Akemi and Anonymous—were once again ruthlessly torn apart.
...No, they were never the same. Even if both had treated her kindly, Anonymous was not Akemi.
Still, she said nothing. Looking at the bag with a trace of melancholy, she obediently crawled in.
"Oh, right," she said softly once inside, remembering something. "There's a computer on the table. It's Pisco's. It has a lot of organization data... but also viruses and tracking programs."
She couldn't take it herself. And she didn't dare give it to the Professor or Conan.
But if it were Anonymous... they'd know what to do.
Anonymous glanced at the computer. Then walked past it as if it were an expired printer.
Haibara Ai, peering out through the mesh, didn't say anything more.
...That's right. She recalled that whenever Anonymous appeared, they'd occasionally drop cryptic phrases. One of them was: "Anonymous knows everything."
Maybe they really did already know the contents of that computer.
Xiaobai had once delivered Paikaru to her when she needed it, which meant the Black Organization had no records on the antidote—and Anonymous hadn't obtained data that didn't exist. That implied the Anonymous group had a mole in the Black Organization. A high-ranking one, too—someone with access to nearly all classified information.
Haibara thought about the Black Organization, which she'd always viewed as a monstrous flood, only to realize that in front of Anonymous, it was more like a leaking kitchen tap.
Her heart filled with complex, indescribable emotions.
If she'd read more Eastern fiction, she might have summed it all up with: "Terrifying."
As she was reflecting on this, Anonymous suddenly stopped in a corridor outside the wine cellar, seemingly having noticed something.
Haibara Ai, curled up in the bag, blinked in confusion as the bag was set down. Anonymous unzipped it, leaned down, and handed her something.
It was a syringe filled with a clear, shimmering liquid.
"You seem quite eager to join us," Anonymous said in a low, seductive voice. "In that case, why not start as an peripheral member? Show us your sincerity."
The voice faded into silence.
Haibara looked at the syringe, stunned.
Then she bit her lip, took it, and gave a small nod.
—
On the street, inside the chilly little Beetle, Conan and Professor Agasa were frantically trying to track Haibara Ai using all the black-market gadgets at their disposal.
Unfortunately, Haibara's detective badge had died at some point.
Just earlier, as they adjusted the receiver in frustration, they saw Gin's iconic black Porsche pull up. Gin and Vodka entered the Beika City Hotel one after another.
Conan immediately called Inspector Megure, asking him to stop them—but the police once again failed to intercept two men in black trench coats, walking like they owned the city.
As Conan muttered about how the police kept overlooking Gin's ultra-distinctive hairstyle, he bolted toward the hotel himself, dialing Jiangxia on repeat.
He was mid-sprint down a hallway when a figure suddenly entered his peripheral vision.
Conan stopped short and turned.
Anonymous was walking quickly toward him, a large bag in her hand that clashed absurdly with her elegant, Western-style attire.
She stopped in front of him, set the bag on his back, and looked down with a cold, commanding gaze.
"Take her out and leave," she said. "If you set foot back here before dawn, you'll be added to our elimination list."
In this world, the physical strength of children defied common sense.
Even without being in his full rage mode, Conan could easily flip adults like Kogoro Mouri. So carrying a shrunken Haibara Ai? No problem.
More importantly, having someone physically tied to him was the most effective way to curb Conan's reckless behavior.
At least for now, this would guarantee he took her straight back to the Professor's car... and kept quiet for a while.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 8/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:3/10*