Chapter 273: Miss Suou, You Wouldn’t Want…

Honami lifted the hem of her long dress as she ascended the stairs, while Haibara Ai did the same with her skirt. 

Led by Honami, Fujino reached a door beside the second-floor staircase. It was a large white wooden door, adorned with intricate floral carvings and gray embellishments. 

"Minaho and I will go grab everyone's luggage," Honami said, bowing politely. "In the meantime, please wait a moment in Teacher Suou's mask collection room." 

"Thanks, Miss Honami," Fujino replied with equal courtesy. He pushed the door open, stepping into an opulent room. 

The room sat smack in the middle of the mansion's symmetrical design, filled with glass display cases. The walls were covered by massive red curtains. Inside the cases were all sorts of creepy masks—including some that looked like the Nuo dance masks used in Chinese ghost-exorcism rituals. 

*This old lady's got eclectic taste,* Fujino thought, mildly exasperated. *She's gutsy enough to collect these things.* 

"These masks… they've got to be pricey, huh?" Haibara Ai tilted her head, glancing around with a puzzled expression. 

For your average tycoon, this wouldn't raise an eyebrow. But Suou Hiko, a woman who'd made charity her life's work, shouldn't have this kind of cash… 

"Hey, Detective Fujino?" 

A surprised voice broke his train of thought. Fujino turned to see a few familiar faces entering from a door on the villa's opposite side—people he'd just parted ways with. 

Katagiri Masaki and Matsudaira Mamoru looked a bit startled. Nagara Haruka, though, stayed cool as ever. She wandered past the display cases, studying the odd masks with a thoughtful air. 

She'd ditched her coat, revealing a purple gown beneath. Golden floral patterns traced her collarbone, elbows, and waist, amplifying her already mysterious vibe. To Fujino, she gave off a vibe like Koizumi Akako, that witchy girl… 

*Yeah, a little chuunibyou.* 

Still, witches in the *Detective Conan* world all seemed cut from this cloth. 

Pulling himself together, Fujino approached Nagara Haruka, testing her with a question. "Miss Nagara, that bad vibe you mentioned earlier—could it be these masks?" 

"They do have a dark energy… but I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. Her voice turned grave. "Compared to these, the evil coming from behind those curtains feels way stronger." 

"Evil energy?" Haibara Ai, tagging along behind Fujino, cast a curious glance at the red curtains. 

Fujino, meanwhile, mulled it over. In his memory, those curtains hid another "little black" weapon—two hundred cursed masks. 

*This fortune-teller's spot-on again.* 

"Welcome, everyone, to my humble home," Suou Hiko announced as she stepped into the collection room. 

She wore a warm smile and the same outfit as before, trailed by her current assistant, Inada Kazuyo. 

"Are all these your masks?" Nagara Haruka turned to ask, intrigued. 

"Yep, these are my treasures from years of collecting. What do you all think?" Suou Hiko's smile grew brighter as she talked about her masks. 

"Uh…" 

The group faltered, unsure how to reply. Collecting spooky masks was… a niche taste, to put it mildly. 

"Miss Suou, what's behind those curtains?" Nagara Haruka piped up suddenly. "More masks, maybe?" 

"You got it! Those are my proudest finds," Suou Hiko said. She walked to a display case and hit a button. "Legend says these are two hundred masks made by the Spanish sculptor Xobru Gantiras before he died." 

Heads turned as the red curtains parted with a mechanical hum, revealing rows of wooden racks. On them sat two hundred identical white masks, each carved with a creepy, grinning face that sent a shiver down the spine. 

"Xobru…" Nagara Haruka murmured, a memory clicking into place. "The cursed masks?" 

"Cursed masks?!" The group froze, recalling Nagara's earlier ominous hints. A chill crept up their spines. 

"Xobru was a tragic figure," Suou Hiko began, clearly relishing their reactions as she showcased her collection. "He had incredible talent, but his own brother betrayed him—stole his status, fame, and wealth. After that, he lost all faith in people. He locked himself away, carving masks like a man possessed, working nonstop until he finished the two-hundredth one. Then he killed himself. The masks around his body were drenched in blood, like they'd sucked it right out of him." 

"Later, Xobru's name was cleared, and these masks became hot collector's items, passing through tons of hands…" 

Nagara Haruka eyed the white masks around them. "But most people who owned them didn't end well—usually dying in freak accidents." 

"Cursed masks…" Fujino rubbed his chin, sizing up the display. 

Sure, he was the "little black" gearing up to make a move, but these things did feel a bit eerie. If you thought about it, jewelers and bankers weren't exactly angels. Their deaths were probably just odds catching up—owning the masks just put a spotlight on them. 

With that in mind, Fujino turned to Suou Hiko with a sly undertone. "Speaking of which, Miss Suou, if one mask has that kind of juice, aren't you scared of collecting all two hundred? What if the curse takes you out?" 

"Haha, no worries there, Detective Fujino," she laughed, taking his words as concern. "If I dared to collect them, I've got protection. After I got these masks, I had a powerful medium seal them up. This whole villa's built to keep their curse in check." 

"Oh, got it…" Fujino flashed a knowing grin. 

Fortune-tellers or magicians? Sure, he'd buy that. But a medium? *Come on, does she think this is a zombie flick?* This old lady had totally been scammed by some fraud. 

"Touya, why're you so late today?" Suou Hiko called out suddenly. 

Fujino glanced back to see a blond guy stroll in, letter in hand. "I'm on a national tour right now… Give me a break for being a little tardy," he griped. 

Fujino clocked him right away—another "little black," the son of a murdered assistant from way back: Aokawa Touya. 

"Oh, by the way, Teacher Suou," Touya said, handing her the letter. "Our detective agency got this weird note for you. No sender's name, and the handwriting's fishy." 

"Another one of these…" Suou Hiko sighed as she opened it, skimming the contents with mild annoyance. "Who keeps messing with me like this?" 

"Miss Suou, want me to check it out?" Fujino offered, turning to her. 

"No need to bother, Detective Fujino," she said with a smile. "Ever since I announced the charity gala, these threatening letters have been piling up. It's not worth the fuss." 

She was pleased with his reaction—*another sucker falling for my fake mask,* she thought. Gotta hand it to her, she was a pro at playing the part. 

"Fair enough," Fujino said, genuinely a bit bummed. With her time running out, taking a job now—and getting paid upfront—would've been easy money. 

---

After a bustling dinner, the night deepened into the wee hours. 

A light snow started falling outside, making the brightly lit villa pop against the dark suburban woods. 

Fresh from dinner, Fujino was called aside by Suou Hiko to the third-floor lounge on the west side. The room was decked out in lavish style. 

Fujino plopped onto a single sofa, his eyes flicking around as he discreetly activated the recording function on his vision-enhancing glasses, scoping the place out. 

Suou Hiko sat elegantly on a pricey couch, sipping a glass of red wine. "Detective Fujino," she said, "I'd like you to look into something for me." 

"You want me to investigate something?" Fujino looked up, meeting her eyes. "What's it about? Can you fill me in?" 

"Well…" Suou Hiko took a sip of wine, like she was hiding a twinge of guilt. "If you're up for it, I'd like you to dig into the traffic accident that killed Mr. Katagiri's wife." 

"Mrs. Katagiri's accident?" Fujino's eyes narrowed slightly. He already knew why she wanted this checked out. 

Over dinner, Katagiri Masaki had brought up his wife, who died in a car crash twenty years ago. When Suou Hiko heard "twenty years ago" and "car accident," she'd frozen. 

It jogged her memory of the woman she'd hit and killed while driving twenty years back. She wanted Fujino to investigate to confirm whether that woman was Katagiri Masaki's wife. 

If it was, that'd be one hell of a coincidence… 

*Looks like this old lady hiding behind a fake mask knows guilt after all,* Fujino thought. 

Fine then—he wouldn't hold back. With someone like her, there was no need to play by professional ethics. Time to pull out the old blackmail trick—his specialty. 

Taking a deep breath, Fujino leaned back in his seat, putting on a troubled look. "If it's about Mr. Katagiri's wife's accident from twenty years ago, that's tricky… It's been two decades—everything's changed, and there aren't many solid leads left." 

"Oh, really?" Suou Hiko's eyes dimmed, feigning disappointment. 

But inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. If even this famous detective couldn't crack it, no one else could either. That old accident? She could sleep easy. 

Or so she thought—until Fujino's next words yanked her back down: 

"It's tough, sure, but for me, it's just a bit of a hassle…" Fujino paused, pretending to mull it over, then said gravely, "I've got a knack for digging into old cases like this. That said, the fee might be steeper—say, four million yen, paid upfront." 

He paused again, giving her a loaded look. "Miss Suou, you… *ahem*." 

Almost slipped into his old routine there. Spilling the beans outright wouldn't do. 

Clearing his throat, he continued, "Miss Suou, you get what I'm driving at, right?" 

"Four million yen…" Suou Hiko blinked, caught off guard. She could tell this kid was hinting at something. 

Four million yen—same as the endorsement fee she'd never paid. 

*Wait… Did this detective figure something out? Or has he already pieced it all together? Is he blackmailing me now?* 

A cold sweat prickled her back. 

But then she reconsidered. He was a famous detective—thinking she could fool him was naive. Still, she hadn't pegged this kind, selfless detective for a guy like this behind closed doors. 

Suou Hiko smirked inwardly. *Guess everyone's just a hypocrite wearing a mask.* 

Her face stayed grim, but she nodded. "Alright then. I'll have Inada handle the payment soon. I hope you can get to the bottom of this quickly, Detective Fujino… and keep it hush-hush." 

"Of course, client confidentiality's a given," Fujino said with a nod, all professional-like, his eyes narrowing as a sly grin crept across his face. 

"Then I'll leave it to you," Suou Hiko replied, her expression unchanged. 

She knew he was shaking her down—he just hadn't said it outright. But since he was willing to take the money and settle it, they were in this together now. If she went down, he wouldn't fare much better. 

Maybe they could even team up down the line, split some profits… 

Little did she know, after tonight, there'd be no "down the line." 

---

"It's a good day~ Oh, what a good day~" Fujino hummed a little tune, pocketing four million yen. Glancing at his balance—[12.68 million yen]—he felt downright giddy. 

Sure, the four million was rightfully his, but it'd been out of reach—an empty promise. Now that it was in hand, it was real cash. 

*Jackpot!* 

And soon, he'd take someone out and snag another million on the spot. 

He strolled to the lounge window where everyone was chilling, gazing out at the falling snow. Eyes narrowing, he thought, *Snow's coming down—perfect night for a kill…* 

"What's got you so chipper?" 

A cool, slightly soft voice came from behind. Fujino turned to see Haibara Ai in her black lolita dress, walking over with a curious look. 

"Nothing much… just ran into some good news," Fujino said with a light laugh, leaning down to whisper, "I just landed a big job." 

Yep, do nothing and score four million yen for free. 

"A big job?" Haibara didn't press further. 

She knew even if she asked, Fujino wouldn't spill—detective's code and all. After a moment, she leaned in close and murmured, "I've got a bad feeling about that Suou Hiko…" 

**(End of Chapter)**