Chapter 386: Gin Is Actually a Scumbag

Double Chapter

With that thought, Jiangxia said calmly, "We don't really know each other. I just thought he reacted very quickly and was very… enthusiastic. In that situation, if someone else had suddenly opened the door, they might've just screamed when the gun went past. No—if they were scared of trouble, most passengers wouldn't even have dared to open the door after hearing a commotion.

"But that gentleman actually stopped Kaetsu from getting the gun back. That was a huge help to me."

Conan: "…"

…It sounded like Jiangxia's first impression of Gin wasn't just good—it was ridiculously good.

Conan's stomach twisted. This was developing in exactly the direction he least wanted to see.

He looked at Jiangxia with an exasperated gaze, wanting to ask: Where's that sharp insight of yours? The one that lets you sniff out a murderer with one glance at a crime scene?

But on second thought, it was normal.

—People were different from physical evidence. Physical evidence didn't lie; humans did. And the more cunning the scumbag, the more sincere they'd act toward the person they wanted to use.

So Jiangxia, naturally attuned to reading ghosts and motives, would pick up on that "sincere" front but confuse it with real kindness. He'd always been like that—utterly clueless when it came to human scumbaggery.

…Good thing I caught it in time, Conan thought, pushing up his glasses. He felt a small swell of pride for managing to pull Jiangxia back from the abyss before he fell headfirst in.

The tiny pang of guilt for what he was about to do? Barely stung at all.

"Um, actually, I've seen that person before…" Conan took a quiet breath, called on every ounce of his acting chops, and lowered his voice. "By the way, what I'm about to tell you—you absolutely can't tell anyone else."

He deliberately added that last bit to keep the rumor from spreading back to Gin's ears. If someone in the know heard it, they might debunk it on the spot, and then Jiangxia's curiosity would turn into a shovel digging right into the Black Organization.

Normally, "I'm telling you a secret, don't tell anyone" was basically the same as broadcasting it. But Conan knew Jiangxia—if he promised to keep quiet, he really wouldn't say a word. That made it safe enough.

Hearing this, Jiangxia looked down at Conan's solemn little face.

He guessed Kudo was about to drop the bomb—"Actually, there's a secret, mysterious, and terrifying Black Organization in this world."

The train had started moving again. The grinding of the wheels, the wind rushing by, and the rattling of the cars made it unlikely anyone would overhear them.

Just in case, Jiangxia sent out a ghost to double-check for eavesdroppers, then nodded, signaling Conan to go ahead—while also mentally practicing the face he should make when he heard about the Organization: a touch of surprise, a pinch of disbelief, and just the right amount of "I knew something was off but didn't have proof" sudden realization. Perfect.

So he sat there, ready for the "secret."

Except when Conan leaned in and whispered mysteriously, he said:

"Actually, that person used to come to Uncle Mouri with all kinds of requests. He'd ask him to dig up dirt on people he hated, investigate whether someone's original spouse was cheating, even figure out where he could legally bury poison in his own yard to get rid of a neighbor's noisy cat…"

Jiangxia: "…?"

Conan felt a tiny twinge of conscience—he was, after all, slandering Gin, a cadre with more blood on his hands than anyone could count. But the moment he started, he found it easier than he expected.

Seeing Jiangxia's stunned face, Conan cleared his throat and doubled down, spinning the pot bigger and bigger.

Ten minutes later, Jiangxia sat cross-legged on the bed, rubbing his ears like they'd been soaked in mud.

He could practically feel the gossip residue sticking to him.

…Did Conan lose his mind?

No, wait. With that clumsy acting, it felt more like the bear child was doing this on purpose—probably to sow discord.

According to Conan's "evidence," Gin was a scumbag in every way: cheating, petty revenge, poisoning cats, borderline illegal nonsense. Any normal person would steer clear of that mess.

And since "Gin" in Conan's words danced so close to the edges of morality and the law, even a detective with a sense of justice wouldn't want to get involved.

After nearly a minute of stunned silence, Jiangxia finally pieced together Conan's scheme.

…Kudo-kun really is a talent.

This didn't fit either of Jiangxia's earlier guesses. He'd expected Conan to either expose the Organization outright, or say nothing and let him get close to them under cover of plausible deniability. This half-baked smear campaign? A third option.

Jiangxia let out a slow sigh. So in public, it's probably best to avoid Organization cadres as much as possible.

If he really couldn't avoid it and Conan caught him talking to Gin, he'd have to find an excuse to blow up Conan's lie: maybe something like, "It was hard to believe someone so scummy could exist, so I secretly followed him, but found he wasn't like that at all," and then play detective for real.

…But that was a last resort. If he pushed Conan too far, the fake child might feel so embarrassed that he'd avoid him forever—and then Jiangxia wouldn't get to freeload on any more high-quality murders. Terrible outcome.

Sigh. Being stuck between the red and black sides really is hard. I just want to pick up a little killing intent, collect some ghosts, live my peaceful Buddhist life…

Not long after the police boarded, the train rumbled back into motion. It would still be a while before it reached its final stop.

Since the gunman who shot Izumo's boss had been caught on the spot and his whole method and motive had been laid out, the police weren't bothering the other passengers too much.

Everyone returned to their compartments to catch up on sleep or pack up their luggage.

Jiangxia hadn't slept all night—but he'd harvested plenty of killing intent. He remembered that by tomorrow—wait, no, it was already past midnight—he'd be in Tottori Prefecture. The Spider Mansion case was waiting there. So he went to the smoking area and lit a ghost mint cigarette—Kaetsu's killing intent mixed with a dash of apple-flavored killing intent for a fresh twist.

The only issue was that whenever he smoked it, a greedy mermaid ghost would hang off his arm, making it feel heavy.

He couldn't finish the entire ghost mint in one sitting, but this time, it was high-grade stuff. He exhaled slowly, watching the train lights flicker past, his thoughts drifting like smoke.

One day, maybe he'd get to enjoy all this without worrying about scolding, conspiracies, or bear children making up rumors about "poisoning cats."

With his energy topped up, Jiangxia's all-night fatigue vanished like smoke. He flicked the cigarette butt away and headed back to his compartment.

As his mind cleared, he suddenly felt like something was… missing.

After a moment, he remembered: in the original timeline, Yusaku Kudo and Yukiko Kudo were supposed to return from America for this case.

Yusaku had seen reports about the robbery at Izumo Keitaro's jewelry store and it reminded him of a manuscript he'd lost years ago. That gave him a bad feeling, so he and Yukiko had come back to Japan, half-expecting a murder to crop up.

…but now, the two of them were nowhere to be seen.

Maybe Yusaku Kudo was just too busy to notice the local news, Jiangxia thought. Better that way, honestly. Especially better that Yusaku didn't show up.

The adult Kudo might not be great in a fight, but that brain of his was razor sharp. Dealing with father and son together was always ten times trickier than just the bear child alone.

In short: good luck for him.

…

The murder case had eaten up a lot of time.

By noon, the train—now carrying two extra bodies—finally rolled into Tottori Prefecture, late.

Jiangxia wrapped up his statement onboard, left his contact info with the local police, then got off.

By then, Gin and Vodka had already gone to pick up the car the Organization's local branch had arranged for them.

Conan stuck around for a bit, watching from a corner, until he confirmed Gin and Vodka had left first.

When Jiangxia finally stepped off the train, Conan let out a long breath, feeling like his plan to keep both sides apart had succeeded. Gin had been so busy he'd completely forgotten to threaten the innocent great detective.

In a pretty good mood, Conan waved at Jiangxia, then hopped into a taxi with Kogoro Mouri and Ran to attend Kogoro's class reunion.

Jiangxia watched the backs of the three people drifting away and felt a sudden itch to follow them.

The way they walked side by side practically screamed "something murder-y is about to happen nearby." So tempting.

But then he thought about it more carefully—he really didn't remember "Kogoro Mouri's classmate's wedding banquet" being any big case. Meaning the chance of a fresh corpse there was low.

Compared to that, the Organization's target—Spider Mansion—definitely sounded more promising.

"Spider Mansion" was just a nickname. It referred to the Takeda family's estate on Puppet Peak.

The mountain got its name because of an old local legend about a monster called "Lord Spider," which had a temple built for it.

A few years ago, the current head of the Takeda family, Shinichi Takeda, tore down that temple to expand his warehouse.

Since then, people had hung themselves there, only to be found later wrapped in cobwebs.

The neighbors said the family was cursed by Lord Spider.

Plus, the Takedas were famous puppet makers, which meant they used lots of fine thread. The nickname "Spider Mansion" stuck.

And Shinichi Takeda wasn't just any eccentric heir—he was also part of the drug trafficking line the Organization planned to clean up.

Of course, what mattered more to Jiangxia was that Takeda would soon be one of the unlucky stars in a murder case.

Conan might've run off to a wedding, but there was still Heiji Hattori.

Jiangxia knew that the Kansai detective was excellent at attracting murders, especially messy serial ones.

Whether Heiji would actually show up today didn't worry him. After all, Heiji's mother, Shizuka Hattori, had kept in touch with Jiangxia ever since she heard about his perfect scores.

Though Heiji's grades weren't bad, compared to Jiangxia's… well, there was "room for improvement."

So Shizuka often called to "exchange study tips," which basically meant feeding Jiangxia juicy details like, "Oh, Heiji just took a new commission—he's going to Spider Mansion to return the advance payment. Kazuha's tagging along too."

With that in mind, Jiangxia tore his eyes away from the backs of his classmates and Kogoro Mouri, shouldered his bag, and made for the station exit.

Before leaving, he checked the map, then sent Gin a message:

[Meet at Exit 5]

Exit 5 was the farthest from the taxi stand. Kogoro wouldn't wander that way, so it was the safest place to meet without risking righteous detectives catching him "privately interacting with a cadre."

If that still didn't work and he was unlucky enough to get caught, he could always blame the leader:

He'd say he just happened to bump into the "enthusiastic" Gin, who insisted on offering him a lift.

And he'd claim he was suspicious enough to accept, same as Shinichi Kudo had once risked following Gin and Vodka for clues.

Reasonable. In short, very reasonable.

With these mental excuses ready, Jiangxia drifted with the crowd toward Exit 5.

As soon as he stepped outside, he spotted a nondescript Honda parked by the curb. The tinted windows were suspiciously dark.

He gave the area a quick scan—no suspicious bear children, no taxis with familiar license plates.

So he strode over, yanked the back door open, and slipped inside.

Up front sat the usual pair: driver Vodka and his gloomy older brother Gin.

Once he confirmed he hadn't gotten into a random stranger's car, Jiangxia leaned back, quietly waiting to collect ghosts at the destination.

The car rumbled off.

After a while, Jiangxia sat up straighter, frowning at the scenery flashing by.

"This doesn't look like the way to Spider Mansion."

Gin didn't even glance at him. He raised his phone lazily. "The informants here found two rats. We'll deal with them on the way."

Jiangxia blinked.

He peeked at Gin's phone, mentally mapped the distance, and offered helpfully, "Let's split up. I need to head to Spider Mansion first—I already have an appointment."

An appointment?

Gin side-eyed him. Isn't he the one who plans the mission route? Did Ouzo already mess with it behind my back?

Seeing Gin's expression, Jiangxia fished a folded envelope out of his backpack.

"Actually, I got a commission a while back."

That anonymous killer letter from Moonlight Island last week? Apparently just the start of his European Emperor luck.

The day before this trip, he'd found another letter in the agency mailbox—this time from Shinichi Takeda himself.

Takeda hadn't written out the specifics, just included 500,000 yen in cash up front, saying there was something big he wanted Jiangxia to "quietly investigate."

The details would be revealed when he arrived.

He offered the envelope to Gin as if explaining why he'd booked himself into the middle of a cursed mansion's pot.

One ghost, two pots—business and pleasure, all in one stop.

*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.

Progress: 43/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS

Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.

Progress:4/10*