Chapter 16: The Missing Man

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Hirohiro Otsuka had been in high spirits lately. Following the death of Akiji Sugiyama, the acquisition of Sugiyama Foods was progressing unusually smoothly.

“President…” The secretary rushed in, flustered.

“What’s the rush?” Otsuka scolded. “How can you do your job well if you panic over everything?”

“My apologies!” The secretary bowed in apology and handed Otsuka a piece of paper. “This was mixed in with today’s mail.”

Otsuka looked at it dismissively, expecting it to be nothing more than another threatening letter—he had seen plenty before.

He reached out and took it.

The message was formed by cutting and pasting words from newspapers:

“I know the secret behind the scenes. What price will you pay for it?”

Otsuka froze.

At the same time, identical letters appeared on the desks of Suzuki, Yotsui, Takasugi, and a host of other wealthy tycoons leading major conglomerates.

“What did you say?” Kiyonaga Matsumoto stood up angrily. Threatening nearly all the major wealthy families? Has someone gone mad?

Threatening one or two families made sense, but sending threats to a whole group—what was the purpose?

And with a billion-yen bank robbery just yesterday, this was going too far, even for Mihana Town.

“Could it be a prank?” someone cautiously suggested.

“Normally, whether motivated by hatred or greed, there would be specific targets. Sending threats on such a large scale doesn’t make much sense,” Kiichi analyzed. “If the aim was to hide the real target, such widespread threats would only alert everyone prematurely. Moreover, if the wealthy unite, it becomes even harder to intimidate them.”

“Do you really think these threats are just a prank?” Matsumoto asked, eyes wide.

“It’s impossible to draw a conclusion immediately. In the worst case, we cannot rule out that the perpetrator harbors extreme hatred toward all the rich,” Kiichi replied carefully, unwilling to be too definitive.

“In that case…” Matsumoto admitted no one dared jump to conclusions. “Kiichi, take your team to investigate the threats. Megure, continue pursuing the bank robbery case!”

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“Recently, several well-known conglomerates have received threatening letters, attracting widespread social concern. Executives from Suzuki, Otsuka, Yotsui, Takasugi, and other major companies have been targeted. The police have intervened and are analyzing the origin and motives behind the letters. In response, affected companies have stepped up security measures. Authorities urge victims to remain vigilant and report any suspicious information.”

At Dr. Agasa’s home, Conan read the latest news about the billion-yen bank robbery in the newspaper. Hearing another report about the threats on the television, he muttered, “Robbery, threats, murder—crime is on the rise.”

“That’s exactly why your deductive skills are so useful,” Dr. Agasa said, tinkering with a pair of glasses on the table as he comforted Conan.

“Yeah, but Kogoro always steals the credit,” Conan grumbled, recalling the proud expression on Kogoro’s face whenever he accidentally took credit.

“All done!” Dr. Agasa happily handed Conan a newly crafted pair of culprit-tracking glasses and explained how to use them.

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After spending a while longer at Dr. Agasa’s, Conan, realizing it was about time to head home, reminded the doctor to notify him about any new inventions before returning to the Mori Detective Agency.

Not long after arriving home, a cute girl wearing large round glasses and sporting two braids anxiously knocked on the detective agency’s door.

“Detective, please! Help me find my father!”

The girl, named Miyabi Hirota, came from Yamagata. Her father had come to Tokyo for work but had been missing for a month. He had even quit his job at a taxi company.

With no leads even after reporting to the police, the desperate girl turned to the detective, providing a photo of her father holding a cat.

“The cat he’s holding is named ‘Quick.’ He loves cats and also has three others named ‘Tei,’ ‘Go,’ and ‘Ou,’” she explained.

Meanwhile, Conan, hearing the case details, thought that since it was just a matter of finding someone, he probably didn’t need to intervene directly.

He decided to try out Dr. Agasa’s new invention by attempting to place a tracking sticker on Ran. However, he accidentally tripped over the electric heater’s cord and ended up sticking the tracker onto Miyabi’s wristwatch.

Tears streaming down her face, Miyabi said, “My mother passed away when I was very young… My father is my only family. If something happens to him, then I…”

She couldn’t finish and covered her face, crying.

Kogoro Mori accepted the case.

“Don’t worry, Miyabi. My father is a detective. We’ll find Mr. Hirota,” Ran confidently assured her as Miyabi left.

Elsewhere, inside a hotel room.

“That damn bastard. I don’t even know where he’s hiding,” a tall man muttered as he stood up, preparing to leave.

Just then, the phone on the desk rang.

“Hello?” he answered impatiently. There was silence on the other end, so he asked again, “Who is this?”

“I’m the one here to help you solve your problem,” came a strange voice through a voice modulator.

“Solve my problem? What problem?” The tall man thought the caller was crazy and was about to hang up.

“Like the billion-yen issue?”

The man froze.

“Well? Aren’t you interested?” The voice chuckled.

“Who are you? How do you know about that?”

“I don’t like working with people who talk too much. Do you want that billion yen or not?”

The man was silent for a moment.

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“Yes.”

“Good. From now on, just do as I say.”

“What do I have to give in return?”

“One-tenth,” the voice replied. “See? That’s less than splitting it with two partners.”

“...Deal!” The man asked urgently, “How do I find that bastard?”

“No rush. I’ll make sure you get the money. But for now, you need to be patient.”

Before the man could say more, the caller hung up.

Is this really trustworthy?

The man suddenly hesitated again, feeling as if he was being deceived.

Should he still hire a detective to find that bastard?

At that moment, a knock came at the door.

He went to answer and saw a hotel staff member.

“Sir, there’s a letter for you.”

“Oh, thanks.” The man grabbed the letter.

He opened the envelope.

Inside was a letter and two photos—one of Miyabi Hirota and one of the man himself.

The letter read: “This is not a threat, just proof of our capability. Please leave the photo of Kenzo Hirota in the envelope with the hotel front desk.”

Though he knew that someone capable of calling directly to his room was no ordinary person, the man still felt a chill run down his spine.

He looked again at the signature on the letter.

It boldly read:

The Mastermind Behind the Scenes.