Chapter 12: "Detective Notes of Kogoro Mori"

Mouri Detective Agency.

“Also,” Kogoro Mouri lounged casually with his legs propped on the desk, chatting like an old friend, “Yoko found the spare key, but it seems she’s not planning to press charges against that Ikesawa Yuko…”

“Uncle.”

Conan entered the detective agency wearing a troubled expression, and upon seeing Kogoro, curiously set down his backpack.

“Who were you talking to on the phone? Is it a new case?”

“Shoo, shoo!” Kogoro waved dismissively, clearly annoyed. He couldn’t stand Conan’s presence.

Speaking of which, last time Conan accidentally kicked a ball that hit Kogoro’s head, but with so much going on, they hadn’t settled that yet.

Realizing he was still on the phone, Kogoro sheepishly stepped aside and chuckled, “It was the kid temporarily staying at my place, insisting on hearing all about my heroic exploits… Huh? You want to learn judo from me? My fees are pretty steep…”

“Beep!” The call was cut off.

“He hung up…”

Kogoro listened blankly to the busy signal, his face faltering.

That brat, he really changes when money’s involved.

Serves him right for being washed-up.

“My Yoko is still the best!”

Pressing his cheek against a signed board, Kogoro couldn’t help but grin lecherously.

He’d decided—tonight, he’d sleep clutching Yoko’s autograph.

“Who was it?” Conan’s curiosity grew. Since coming to stay, he’d never seen his uncle chat like this with anyone.

They sounded like friends, yet not quite.

And it seemed related to Yoko Koshino.

“Wasn’t it you who solved that case yesterday, Uncle?”

“Of course it was me!” Kogoro shot Conan an annoyed look. “Hmph. Yesterday, it was thanks to my brave intervention that Yoko was saved from danger. If not for the elevator malfunction, that person wouldn’t have died.”

“Heh, heh…” Conan twitched the corner of his mouth in silence.

He knew his uncle’s true abilities all too well.

Probably just got lucky, riding on another detective’s coattails.

Otherwise, how could he not even get a commission?

…

Elsewhere.

An apartment with three rooms and a spacious living room with a large sofa.

Gao Mo was momentarily distracted.

Not because he meant to hang up on Kogoro, but because the settlement information popped into his field of vision.

The incident had been so sudden he almost forgot.

Fortunately, the system automatically assigned him a task—it was Kogoro’s “Obtain Yoko’s exclusive autograph.”

The task was already completed, no need to redraw.

Gao Mo clicked confirm with a curious yet slightly strange expression.

No extra reward, just a somewhat peculiar exclusive book—“Kogoro Mouri’s Detective Notes,” rated three stars.

Still a professional manual, but unfortunately, he hadn’t activated the detective profession yet.

He’d have to verify that soon after this task.

For now, the priority was to level the actor profession to 5 quickly, but activating other professions wouldn’t hurt—might come in handy sometime.

Especially an important one like detective.

Dealing with homicide cases long-term, relying solely on actor skills wouldn’t suffice.

“Should I read this book?”

Gao Mo hesitated.

It might just be a waste of time, but Kogoro Mouri was a legitimate detective after all; maybe there were insights to gain.

His knowledge of detectives came entirely from anime, lacking much fundamental understanding.

He’d heard that in Tokyo, one had to pass a specialized exam to get a detective license…

“Read it then.”

Gao Mo didn’t wait long.

He wasn’t one to leave things unused, especially when it was a three-star item.

It shouldn’t take too long—just a break from studying housekeeping materials, a change of pace.

Setting aside the housekeeping book in his hands, Gao Mo picked up an old magazine as a projection surface for “Kogoro Mouri’s Detective Notes.”

Surprisingly, it was quite detailed…

January 3rd, clear skies, watched a horse race replay.

January 5th, nodded off and accidentally missed Yoko’s show, damn it.

January 10th, still no business, drank, told some stories about police work to friends at a tavern.

January 11th, helped an old lady in 2-Chome find her cat, only paid me 5000 yen, so stingy.

January 15th, got beaten up during an infidelity investigation, came back to find my wallet lost, with a betting ticket inside—damn, it might have won a million.

January 20th, Ranran scolded me for spending all my pocket money on horse bets and beer, Eri secretly gave her some cash… next time I’ll win for sure.

February 1st, creditors came after me, ran into Eri.

…

“I knew it.”

Gao Mo smiled bitterly, pressing his forehead.

More a diary of misfortune than detective notes, and pretty dull at that.

Slightly better than the purely technical housekeeping books, at least he could enjoy Kogoro’s antics.

Kogoro surely never kept a diary himself; wonder how he’d react if he saw this book.

As for gains…

There were some.

After all, the guy used to be a police officer; some fundamental experience remained, but his reputation suffered due to drinking and laziness.

Occasionally, Chief Megure would refer cases the police couldn’t handle, especially recently since Shinichi Kudo had disappeared and crime rates surged…

That’s why the heiress disappearance case ended up with Kogoro.

The rest were trivial cases.

Finding lost cats and dogs was all luck.

It was a wonder Kogoro lasted this long.

…

Finishing the last page, the book’s projection shattered like a bubble in his vision.

The three-star rating smoothly entered the storage pool, but Gao Mo felt it was barely worthwhile.

He still hoped to draw Kogoro’s judo manual.

The system valued knowledge highly; professional books seemed to have hidden benefits beyond just star ratings.

Judo would definitely be more useful than these detective notes.

“There should be plenty of chances.”

Thinking of future cases involving Kogoro Mouri, Gao Mo wasn’t worried.

After all, he hadn’t activated the corresponding profession yet…

Speaking of which, the Mouri father and daughter were quite interesting—both had top-tier combat power, yet always failed to show it when it mattered.

Back when Kogoro was a student, his judo skills far surpassed his classmates, but he never won matches; he always underperformed, so few knew of his true abilities.

Ranran was also formidable, but when scared she only screamed and foolishly waited to die.

Yet when protecting others or taking initiative, she fought fiercely beyond belief.

According to the power rankings in Conan’s world, the father and daughter’s peak strength should be near the top.

If Rei Furuya was an A rank, they would comfortably sit at B+.

Gao Mo sipped his cola, thinking quietly.

No hope with Rei Furuya for now.

If possible, he hoped to draw combat skill books from the father and daughter.

…

“Moo—!”

Sanbon Island.

A deep, whale-like ship horn echoed near the dock.

Three days had passed since Gao Mo arrived as promised at this tourist island run by the Sanbon family.

That morning, a grand wedding took place on the island—the bride reportedly the cherished granddaughter of the Sanbon Group chairman.

Even into the afternoon, many social elites still lingered.

Wearing black-framed glasses and clutching an invitation, Gao Mo disembarked from the ferry.

Before he could look around, a white-haired elderly man dressed impeccably in a black morning coat greeted him.

White wing-collar shirt, black bow tie.

Standing straight with hands clasped behind his back, every movement elegant—full British etiquette, even more professional than in instructional videos.

The Sanbon family’s chief butler?

Gao Mo felt pressure rise within.

He wasn’t sure if his recent studies would suffice.

He’d nearly worn out the book with the highest relevance, “Confessions of a British Butler.”

“Are you the outside butler from Tokyo?” The old man’s brows lifted slightly, surprised by Gao Mo’s youth, but he quickly masked it. “May I have your name?”

“Yes…” Gao Mo suddenly realized.

The package was indeed addressed to him.

But the invitation didn’t mention his name.

Was it to avoid using his real name?

“Just call me Kindaichi,” Gao Mo replied calmly.

“Very well, Mr. Kindaichi,” the elderly man nodded and motioned him to follow. “I trust you’ve read the invitation. For this assignment, you only need to handle the duties aboard the ship during the return trip to Tokyo…

The master and company have chartered the entire luxury liner, departing in about two hours. Let me take you onboard to familiarize yourself…”

“Um, Butler,” Gao Mo couldn’t help but ask in restraint, “I only learned about this after receiving the invitation—why was I chosen?”

He’d been puzzled ever since reading the invitation.

This was the first time the system had intervened in reality like this.

The old man glanced at him with a sidelong look and shook his head slightly.

“Someone recommended you to me.”

“Who…”

Gao Mo was about to inquire further when his pupils dilated suddenly; the faint, nearly forgotten sense of death surged again, causing the hairs on his body to stand on end.

He couldn’t ask anymore—pushing further would bring serious trouble.

“Hmm?” The old man found Gao Mo’s reaction odd but politely refrained from pressing.

Gao Mo didn’t fit the old man’s image of an excellent butler, but perhaps that was because he hadn’t started working yet.

Not all butlers liked to maintain a perfect image at all times.