Ran hesitated as she accepted the gloves. She wasn't an amateur—wasn't this kind of like bullying?
Still… if it helps relieve stress…
She put on the gloves and stared at the red-marked punching target, slowly imagining it as Shinichi's face.
"Shinichi!" she shouted, so loudly that Conan, who was glaring warily at Hideaki, jumped in shock. "Where the hell have you been, you bastard!"
THUD! The sponge-filled target let out a dull thump. The machine paused for two or three seconds like it had glitched. Then a bright red "400" lit up on the screen, and a triumphant jingle played.
Hideaki, who had planned to kindly instruct the "fragile high school girl" after her weak little punch: "!!!"
"400…" Takeyoshi swallowed hard. "That's the machine's max score!"
Ran exhaled and happily removed the gloves, handing them to Kazawa. "I feel much better now! Your turn, Kazawa."
Sonoko clapped, thrilled by her friend's impressive punch. "I knew you had it in you, Ran! Kazawa, you're toast this time!"
Kazawa gave the gloves a strange look, then shot an equally strange glance at Conan—who was still rattled by Ran's explosive punch—before slowly putting them on.
Conan was lightly trembling. That punch… she was really mad. If he had been in front of her in that moment…
He was still trapped in the image of his own bloody demise when he noticed Kazawa trying not to laugh.
Huh? What's with that smirk—ah! Conan smacked his own forehead, then poked Sonoko with a look of sorrow.
"What?" Sonoko looked down at him in confusion.
"Kazawa… big bro, he told me before," Conan said, turning his head away like he couldn't bear to look, "he practices kickboxing."
THUD!
Just as he finished speaking, Kazawa landed his punch.
Another stall, another bright red "400." A staff member nervously approached, eyeing the sponge-filled target that was visibly dented from the back-to-back heavy hits, unsure whether it needed to be replaced.
"A draw." Kazawa walked back with a grin. "Honestly, it's not quite fair. I probably don't hit as hard as Ran—I haven't trained that long. But the machine caps the score, so even if you go beyond that, it still reads 400. Lucky me."
"Ahaha…" Sonoko chuckled awkwardly, seeing her reversal hopes dashed.
"You two want to try?" Kazawa offered the gloves to Sonoko.
"Um, I… I need to use the restroom," Conan muttered. Sweat still clung to his forehead from earlier. He looked around and decided to wash his face.
Here it comes. Kazawa's ears twitched as he walked over and gently took Conan's hand. "The venue's pretty big. It's not safe for a kid to wander around alone. I'll go with you."
Ran nodded.
Both she and Sonoko were girls, so it made sense for Kazawa to take Conan. It all felt natural. She was even a bit relieved Kazawa was around—otherwise, Conan would be off the radar again like a wild monkey.
Still shaken by Ran's insane punch, Hideaki jumped at the chance to tag along. "The restrooms are kind of tucked away in this venue. I was going anyway—I'll guide you there."
Kazawa glanced briefly at Hideaki's pocket, where his hand gripped something inside, and smiled. "We'd appreciate that."
So Hideaki led the way, Kazawa holding Conan's hand and following close behind as the two of them whispered to each other.
"Scary… way too scary…"
"It's fine. Since you're a kid right now, she'll probably go easier on you."
"That's exactly what's terrifying! We cannot get found out—someone could die."
"Would it matter? Whether you've changed back or not, a punch like that would kill either way."
Hideaki wasn't paying attention to their muttered exchange. His focus was locked on the hallway ahead.
A tall man in a black suit and bowler hat was walking straight toward them—without any intention of stepping aside.
"Ugh, ow…" Hideaki, shorter than Kazawa, was knocked flat onto the ground, clutching his waist in pain.
Kazawa and Conan stopped talking at once, both turning their eyes toward the black-clad man.
The man didn't even glance their way. He passed by like he hadn't even noticed knocking someone over.
Yes! Hell yes! Tequila! Kazawa was pumped. Achievement unlocked!
This guy had to be nearly two meters tall… Wait—black suit? Conan suddenly recalled Joker's message. He tensed instantly.
Ignored, Hideaki grimaced for a bit before dragging himself off the ground.
Kazawa blinked, waited a beat, then looked at him with feigned concern. "You okay, Mr. Nakajima? That guy didn't even say sorry—so rude."
Conan's gaze sharpened. He squeezed Kazawa's hand tightly.
Kazawa got the message. He looked down, met Conan's eyes, then glanced toward the vending machine down the hall. "I need to grab a drink anyway… I see the restroom sign over there."
Hideaki seemed a little confused by the sudden shift but also relieved. He gripped the card that had been slipped into his hand during the collision and, feeling the weight of incoming cash, gave a small nod before splitting off.
"He's connected to them?" Kazawa asked in a whisper once they were out of earshot.
Conan nodded gravely. "Clothes and presence—he matches their type."
"Let's see what he's up to, then."
They casually followed the hallway, drifting toward the vending machine.
The corridor looped around the entire venue, linking entrances and exits. Tequila walked to the coat check counter and handed over a claim tag.
"Number 98. One moment please," the staffer said sweetly before turning to fetch it.
"Number 98?" Kazawa murmured. "That's off. This morning, Ran's tag was 100."
He pulled his own claim tag from his pocket: 96.
"Between me and Ran, the only ones were those three members from Full Heaven." His expression turned serious.
Conan's years of detective training kicked in at once. "He must've swapped claim tickets with one of them! That's a pretty standard trick in the underground."
Tequila accepted a briefcase with the Full Heaven logo, then turned to leave.
As he walked past them, Conan quickly peeled a listening sticker from his button and placed it in Kazawa's palm.
Kazawa understood. As Tequila passed behind them, Kazawa lifted his hand like he was hesitating over drink choices. With one subtle move, he slapped the sticker onto Tequila's back.
To avoid suspicion, they didn't follow him again. Instead, they sat on a bench behind some decorative plants near the entrance. Conan activated the eavesdropping program.
Footsteps, then soft beep-beep tones.
"He's making a call," Conan whispered, brows furrowing.
"Yeah, it's me, Tequila." A thick Kansai accent came through the feed. "The deal's done."
Conan clenched his fists. As expected—he'd swapped the claim tag to complete a transaction with one of those three men!
"Don't worry. No problems, Vodka… Tell Gin I'll meet you before sunset… I've got the goods. I'll double-check. Later."
Tequila, Vodka, Gin…
As the alcohol-themed code names stacked up, Conan's eyes lit up. He opened the receiver on his glasses and tugged Kazawa. "Let's go. The signal's weak—we can't fall too far behind. They're meeting up this afternoon. We'll tail him."
Kazawa stood up calmly, no hesitation at all.
He knew exactly what was coming. With an easy smile, he and Conan returned to the hallway.
"Huh? It won't open?" Tequila's voice came through the feed, confused. "Ah, wait, maybe it—"
Click! The sound of a lock disengaging.
"Huh?! Aah!"
BOOM—! A massive explosion ripped through the air—simultaneously in the feed and from the direction of the restroom.
Flames and smoke blasted down the hallway. The shockwave forced Kazawa to steady himself on the wall—and catch Conan, who nearly lost his footing.
"Cough, cough…"
"What happened?!"
"Explosion! Somewhere—"
Conan stared in shock. Ignoring the acrid smoke, he bolted toward the blast site.