Chapter 13: The Perfect Crime

Conan was in an exceptionally good mood.

He acknowledged that Kiichi Higashino’s deductive reasoning was formidable. In truth, he knew this wasn't really about winning or losing; Higashino hadn't necessarily been slower than him in discovering the truth. It was perhaps only due to the caution inherent in being a police officer that he had asked a few extra questions. Regardless, at least this time, he hadn't waited until the other party revealed the key clues before realizing what had happened.

He looked at Kogoro Mouri, who was sprawled out on the detective agency’s desk, surrounded by a pile of empty beer bottles, dead to the world. A case like this, with no interference, was something even the old man should have been able to handle easily, right?

"Dad, why are you drinking so much again?" Ran began to tidy up the beer bottles around Kogoro, looking quite dissatisfied.

"President of Sugiyama Foods passes away suddenly; Otsuka Holdings acquisition likely to accelerate. According to industry insiders, due to the unexpected passing of the president of Sugiyama Foods, the company's internal management may face a reshuffle. Affected by this, the acquisition plan of Otsuka Holdings is expected to proceed more smoothly than originally planned. Market analysts believe this sudden event may reduce resistance in merger negotiations, paving the way for Otsuka Holdings to further integrate Sugiyama Foods."

The television next to Kogoro was always on, and it happened to be broadcasting a financial news segment. Kogoro, in his drunken state, fumbled for the remote while muttering nonsensical words like "Miss Yoko."

Conan, however, suddenly stood up, a chill shooting straight to his spine. It wasn't because of Kogoro's behavior. He had abruptly remembered the case from that afternoon.

Why was it that the surveillance system happened to be turned off last night for an upgrade? Why was it that he had just happened to meet a new friend who worked at the zoo?

"Please indulge my curiosity: where do you plan to open your new shop? You may not know this, but I have a keen interest in all kinds of gourmet food."

Conan recalled this question from Higashino, which could only be described as inexplicable. Was there no new shop now, or was there never going to be one? Why would Hirohiro Otsuka, the owner, recommend foreign mystery dramas to Gota Imagawa? And on what grounds could Keiji Kinoshita override the will of his boss, Hirohiro Otsuka?

"I felt it was unfair to Imagawa, so I comforted him in private."

The chocolate balls served to Akiji Sugiyama were a last-minute addition decided by Hirohiro Otsuka. Why, knowing that the chocolate balls were the restaurant’s most famous signature dish, would he add them at the last minute instead of ordering them a day in advance?

When you eliminate all impossible scenarios, whatever remains, no matter how unbelievable, must be the truth.

There is only one truth.

Hirohiro Otsuka had used Gota Imagawa’s murder to complete his own. This was, in the absolute sense, a perfect crime. Even if you knew the truth, there was no law in this world that could judge him, because the murderer hadn't actually killed anyone. It was a perfect crime that even the great detective Poirot would have been helpless to solve.

No wonder Higashino had been so hesitant at the time. No wonder he had asked so many seemingly inconsequential questions. Damn it, why!

Conan couldn't help but recall the blow from Gin. Why did he have to experience this suffocating feeling of powerlessness again?

***

"Higashino, you're still here after work?" Miwako Sato noticed that Higashino, contrary to his usual behavior, hadn't vanished immediately after clocking out, but was sitting at his workstation with a pile of old case files. She asked curiously, "Didn't you solve this afternoon's case quite quickly?"

"Yeah, I have some other business. I'll be leaving later. See you tomorrow," Higashino said without looking up.

Sato felt curious and was just about to come over to see what files he was looking at when she heard a voice calling from the door, "Miwako, hurry up!"

It was Yumi. If she didn't leave, Yumi would probably start gossiping. Knowing her best friend very well, Sato sighed and decided to save her questions for work tomorrow.

Higashino didn't even notice when the others around him had left. A person like Hirohiro Otsuka, who possessed the ability to manipulate and toy with others, could never have achieved his goal only once through such methods. Perhaps in the history of Otsuka Holdings, similar instances of bloodshed were everywhere. He couldn't have been this perfect every time. Hirohiro Otsuka was human, and humans make mistakes; among his countless crimes, there would surely be a flaw.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he felt someone tap on his desk. He looked up and was startled. The person standing there was Toshiro Odagiri, the Superintendent of the Criminal Investigation Department.

"Superintendent, you haven't gone home yet?" Higashino didn't know the exact time, but he knew he had been deeply immersed for a long time.

"It wasn't him," Odagiri said in a low voice.

The Superintendent knew what I was looking for? It wasn't Hirohiro Otsuka who used Gota Imagawa’s murder to kill Akiji Sugiyama? It wasn't Hirohiro Otsuka who orchestrated the plot and used Imagawa’s murder to kill Sugiyama? Someone else was directing Hirohiro Otsuka from the shadows?

Higashino realized it in a flash. No wonder I couldn't find any clues in the history of Otsuka Holdings. Someone was secretly instructing others to set up traps, using other crimes to achieve their own criminal ends?

"Follow me." Odagiri turned and walked away.

Higashino hurriedly stood up and followed. He had expected Odagiri to take him to his office, but to his surprise, they went straight to the Commissioner's office. Odagiri knocked on the door.

"Come in." Hakuba was also working late.

"We call him 'The Curator' among ourselves," Hakuba said, getting straight to the point.

"The Curator..." So everyone felt the same way about this person—it was like the final work of Agatha Christie, Poirot’s swan song, *Curtain*.

"However, he is not like Norton in the novel, who merely enjoyed the pleasure of inciting and manipulating others to kill," Hakuba continued. "We don't even know if he is just a cunning genius acting alone, or a mastermind like Moriarty hiding in the background, controlling an entire organization."

"I have spent over a decade trying to find him, but until now, I have come up empty-handed. The only thing I know is that he sends a letter to the client he selects. In the letter, he specifies the problem the client faces and the fee for solving it, guaranteeing that even if someone dies during the process, no crime will ever be directly or indirectly linked to his client."

"Clearly, Hirohiro Otsuka is his most recent client."

Higashino fell silent. I don't want to play anymore. The Black Organization and the zoo are one thing, but how are there experts like this? Forget it; the opponent is so powerful, and Hakuba has only found this much after searching for so many years. What can I do?

Besides, it doesn't take a genius to realize that for such a dark "wish-granting machine" that can legally help you achieve your goals through illegal means regardless of what they are, one has to wonder how many high-ranking officials are his clients. The force behind the Black Organization is the Karasuma Group; this guy might be behind the entire Japanese elite. I’m just a low-level detective; Hakuba, you’d better find someone more capable.

Did Song Ci really defeat Diao Guangdou?

Suddenly, he felt it wouldn't be so bad to hang out with Conan; the Black Organization suddenly seemed quite mild-mannered.

"The person who first realized his existence was your father."

Oh, I'm done for.

His heart, which had been hanging by a thread, finally died. As everyone knows, when a child works in the same profession as their parent, and the parent has unfinished business, it is almost impossible for the child not to inherit that burden in works of fiction. Especially in detective mysteries. Catching the criminal that the parent couldn't is the most classic trope.

How could such a cliché path happen to me? Which transmigrator has this kind of setup? Who wants to read your original content? I should be honestly using my foresight to cheat, teasing Gin, finding a pretty girl to flirt with, sprinkling some industrial-grade saccharine, and then torturing Conan—giving him some extreme "out-of-character" persona as a deduction fanatic, stepping on him when I'm in a good mood, and cucking him when I'm in a bad mood.

Shouldn't that be what a great transmigrator does?

What era is this? Who reads your serious original plots, your serious main storylines, and your serious interactions with original characters? Oh, right—I don't have a cheat, I can't remember the plot clearly, I'm afraid of marriage and don't dare to date, and I actually like Kudo Shinichi's pure sense of justice.

Is it too late for me to curse at Conan now? The kind of rumors those clickbait accounts love: Kudo Shinichi is a scumbag who left Ran waiting in misery, or he is selfish and puts the Mouri family in danger.

I can't do it. Because I have actually watched *Detective Conan*.

You watched it but don't remember the plot! Others have written thousands of pages, remembering every detail of original and manga-adapted content clearly, even having their memories synchronized with the updates of the "old thief's" manga in another world.

Stop scolding, just stop.

Since things have turned out this way, what else can be done? Can a dignified transmigrator really be bullied by the locals? At most, he's just a Moriarty; I thought I was being asked to fight a Soul Heavenly Emperor one-on-one. He doesn't have three heads and six arms, and he hasn't crossed his name off the Book of Life and Death. We are all flesh and blood; what is there to be afraid of?

This is the benefit of divergent thinking and having a head full of mutterings. It immediately calmed his emotions. His mental health index was off the charts.

"Then, my parents' car accident..." Higashino asked proactively. He had one good quality: once he truly made a decision, he would give it his all. There is no turning back on any path in life.

"There is no evidence. But I think everyone understands." Even after all these years, Hakuba still wore a sorrowful expression when mentioning the past.

"In that case, there doesn't seem to be anything else to say," Higashino said, in a tone that sounded indifferent. "Publicly or privately, I must drag that guy out from behind the curtain."

He lacked the apathy of an ordinary transmigrator and the vengeful passion of a traditional character. Instead, he felt a sense of relief. It was as if he realized, "So, I am truly living in this world," rather than being an "outsider" just playing through the *Detective Conan* manga.

Setting aside the life plan he had originally set for himself, it seemed like this was the first time he had truly interacted with this real world. Since he was already here, he would just walk forward with composure.