Chapter 15: The Blood-Red Banquet and the Final Wish

Dinner time.

As the butler, Takamoku could only stand silently to the side.

He was actually quite hungry as well, but according to the rules, he had to wait until the others finished their meal.

“Strange, hasn’t Father arrived yet?” Sohei Ikenoto returned from the restroom, scanning left and right as he took his seat.

With Natsu’s fiancé, Takeshi, absentmindedly joining the table, only Hisazo Kitamoto remained motionless.

“I’ll go call Master,” Takamoku said, his brows slightly furrowing as he noticed the boutonniere previously pinned to Takeshi’s chest had vanished. His pale expression suggested he had been startled.

Strange—that word seemed to carry a certain power.

If nothing unexpected happened, the incident must have already occurred.

The sense of danger upstairs had markedly diminished.

It confirmed the saying—death draws attention away.

“Clatter, clatter!”

Takamoku’s gaze swept the dining room, ensuring the rest of the Ikenoto family was present before stepping back and heading upstairs.

His footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, the bright lights doing little to dispel the eerie atmosphere.

At the end of the suite, a torrent of red liquid seemed to surge forth like a raging beast.

“Master Hisazo?”

Takamoku halted outside the elderly master’s room, immediately noticing a fallen boutonniere on the floor.

It was the same one that had belonged to Takeshi.

Beneath it lay traces of wiped blood.

He knocked gently, but there was no response.

In that moment, Takamoku’s mind raced before he paused and slowly used his key to open the door.

What greeted his eyes was the horrifying sight of Master Hisazo lying in a pool of blood.

His mouth was agape, eyes wide open like a mountain demon.

It appeared he had been stabbed upon opening the door, blood splattered everywhere.

Had this been his past life, he doubted he would have remained so calm upon seeing a murder victim.

But having grown accustomed to corpses these days, and even having killed once himself...

He sighed softly.

Takamoku shook his head, refraining from entering the room, instead locking the door again and returning downstairs with his hands behind his back.

How should he handle the Ikenoto family now?

He wasn’t particularly interested in solving the case, but the mission might still be related...

“How is it?” The gathered family, halfway through their meal, all turned to Takamoku.

“Master probably won’t be coming,” Takamoku said, his eagle-eyed gaze assessing everyone’s reactions. “I don’t know who killed him, but the room has become a crime scene...”

“What did you say?!”

“A crime scene?!”

“Butler, are you mistaken?”

“Grandfather couldn’t have...”

Everyone rose in shock, especially Conan, who immediately tried to rush toward the room but was stopped by Takamoku.

“Everyone, it’s better to stay here in the dining room,” Takamoku warned. “Disturbing the crime scene will only complicate the police investigation. No one wants to be mistaken for the suspect, right?”

“You bastard, who do you think you are?” Ryuo Ikenoto slammed the table in anger. “Grandfather’s dead, and you want us to just stay here...”

“Yeah! Are you accusing us?”

Mariko Ikenoto’s sharp voice cut through the tension.

“We could never kill Father!”

“It’s him! It must be this guy...”

“Enough!” Takamoku’s aura surged as he glared coldly at them. “Do you think I don’t know your situation? Master Ikenoto intended to leave the entire inheritance to Miss Natsu. I’m sure you all have at least some inkling of that.

Old butler Suzuki told me everything about your backgrounds. Honestly, you’re all just waiting for Master to die, aren’t you? You Ikenoto family members are the prime suspects!”

Their faces turned pale, their bravado instantly deflating. Even the loudest Ryuo avoided Takamoku’s gaze.

Damn it, how did old Suzuki spill everything?

“Butler Kaneda is right. We can’t lose our heads now!” Sohei Ikenoto, tall and composed, stepped forward to calm the family and negotiate with Takamoku.

“No matter what, may I take a look? Just me. It’s not that I don’t trust Butler Kaneda, but this is such an important matter...”

“Wait a moment.” Takamoku glanced behind the group.

Kogoro Mouri, drunk and dazed, was slumped on the table, barely aware of what was happening before Takamoku pushed him forward.

“What’s going on? Who died... hic!” Kogoro hiccuped.

“This is Detective Kogoro Mouri, formerly a Tokyo Metropolitan Police detective...” Takamoku introduced him, frowning inwardly.

He had intended to assign Kogoro as a bodyguard, but at this rate, Kogoro might hardly be able to protect himself.

“This is none of your concern. Go back to sleep.”

“Come drink with me, kid Kido...” Kogoro hiccupped repeatedly, delightfully sinking into slumber upon the table.

This fellow had gotten quite drunk on the ship, and now again.

“Natsu, you’re coming too.” Takamoku had to rely on the only remaining capable ally.

Without a bodyguard, he dared not be alone with the Ikenoto family members.

“Me?” Natsu hesitated. She didn’t want to go to the crime scene, but as the daughter of a famous detective, she felt a sense of responsibility and couldn’t let the Mouri name be belittled.

“I’m going too!” Conan raised his hand in protest.

“Everyone else stay here. No one is to act alone.”

After reminding them once more, Takamoku quickly scanned the scene.

A series of faint glimmers appeared before his eyes, transforming into mission texts under concentrated focus.

Above Kogoro Mouri’s head appeared: [Make Big Money] and [Make Kido Takamoku Pay Generously], indicating the mission had become more difficult.

Natsu’s read: [Meet Shinichi, bring Shinichi back], a troublesome task best avoided.

Conan’s said: [Keep Kido Takamoku away from Natsu]—what kind of task was that?

Takamoku avoided these experts and observed the Ikenoto family.

Tears welled from Natsu’s eyes; her text read [Grandfather is still alive], clearly impossible to complete.

Takeshi’s face turned horrified; his readout was [I am not the murderer].

Keitaro Ikenoto, the family’s live-in son-in-law, wiped his sweat nervously, his expression a mix of relief and fear; his text read [Seize control of my own future].

His son’s face was half-hidden by long hair, expression unreadable; his text was [Marry Natsu].

Good grief, such thoughts.

Takamoku began to form some impressions.

In the original story, this fellow seemed to be the culprit?

He couldn’t quite recall, nor was he sure if the plot had changed.

Mariko Ikenoto, the matronly figure, was barely able to contain her excitement, showing no pretense—her text read [Obtain the Ikenoto Group and family inheritance].

Even the seemingly upright and filial Sohei Ikenoto had his own thoughts—[Make money to pay off debts and continue investing in a French restaurant].

Besides Natsu, everyone was thinking only of themselves.

No wonder the old master left such a will; he must have been fully aware.

Takamoku focused, withdrawing a mission.

Sometimes, this kind of mind-reading mission information was truly tormenting.

It was better to remain somewhat oblivious when dealing with others.

Human hearts... could not withstand close scrutiny.

“Hm?”

The glowing text solidified, much to Takamoku’s surprise, the chosen mission was unrelated to anyone present.

[Protect Natsu’s safe arrival in Tokyo]—Hisazo Kitamoto?

Even the dead had missions?

“Natsu, can you come along?” Takamoku added. “I have something to discuss with you.”

“Huh?”

“...”

Ryuo Ikenoto and others, including the previously flirtatious Akie Ikenoto, all wore dark expressions when Takamoku mentioned Natsu.

Yet, surprisingly, no one voiced opposition.

...

Second floor suite.

Sohei Ikenoto and Natsu approached the old master’s door, their steps uneasy.

Conan, having slipped away unnoticed, spotted the boutonniere by the door and quickly covered it with a handkerchief, fearing the crime scene might be disturbed.

Takamoku paid no mind and, using his key, opened the door, stepping back with his hands behind his back.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t lying.”

“Grandfather!” Natsu’s head spun. “How could this happen...”

Nearby, the burly Sohei collapsed to the floor, his mind blank from the shock of the death scene.

Even a normally strong father was so terrified.

“Dad... Father!”

“Kido-san, have you examined the body?” Natsu asked, barely able to look at it, supporting her limp sobbing.

“Could it be...” she trailed off.

Takamoku lifted his eyelids.

Couldn’t he tell if the man was dead?

Though he didn’t understand autopsies, his eagle-eyed vision left no doubt.

Death was something he was intimately familiar with.

Besides, the blood sprayed everywhere. Whether the heart beat or not was irrelevant; survival was impossible.

“There’s no pulse. Indeed, he’s dead,” Conan, seizing his smaller frame, slipped into the room and solemnly examined the body. “His jaw isn’t stiff yet; the pupil sphincter is beginning to contract; body temperature... the time of death should be before dinner...”

He chuckled nervously mid-sentence. “I learned this from a TV tutorial...”

“Sorry about that. This kid just loves to learn from my father,” Natsu apologized, scooping up Conan, though neither she nor Sohei paid much attention.

Takamoku was likewise indifferent; he hoped Conan would solve the case quickly.

If he started a detective career, Conan might reach level 3 or even 4, far surpassing Takamoku’s amateur skills.

The most important thing now was the mission.

The old master’s [Protect Natsu’s safe arrival in Tokyo] still awaited confirmation.

Should he select it?

Protecting her to Tokyo was manageable, but he sensed it wouldn’t be easy.

The other missions...

Few seemed reliable.

The chance of drawing troublesome or impossible tasks was too high.

Takamoku turned toward the tearful Natsu.

Honestly, after reading Aya Matsumoto’s “Green Tea Guide,” he couldn’t help but overthink every woman now.

But with this young lady’s mission information verified, she was clearly not a schemer like Matsumoto Aya.

“I’m sure.”

...