A Mission That Could Fail Before It Even Begins
"Oh, right — Xiayu, I've heard from Shu— ahem, from Conan that you're quite the fighter. So, um... would it be all right if we sparred a little?" Jodie winced internally at how abrupt the request sounded, but her curiosity about this girl's abilities had gotten the better of her, and she'd worked up the nerve to just ask.
"Sure." Xiayu blinked, taken slightly aback, but she didn't dwell on it. It wasn't as if it were any great favor, so she agreed on the spot.
"Then I'll referee!" The moment Xiayu accepted, Charlotte's hand shot up, volunteering herself with unmistakable relish.
With the terms settled, neither of them bothered looking for a proper venue; they simply squared off right there in the spacious, mostly furniture-free living room.
Jodie had taken Akai Shuichi's assessment seriously, so she rated Xiayu's skill far above the average civilian's — but faced with that slender, delicate-looking frame, she instinctively held back a measure of her strength at first anyway.
The instant they made contact, though, and she felt the force of the blows landing on her own arm, Jodie knew she had underestimated Xiayu. Shuichi's evaluation hadn't been off the mark at all.
Left with no choice, Jodie committed everything she had, treating Xiayu as a genuine opponent and fighting at full power.
After Jodie finished recounting her recent encounter, the corner of Conan's mouth gave a small twitch.
Which meant that if he hadn't broken off and left when he did, he would probably have run straight into her while she was cornered by Xiayu and the others.
Conan honestly hadn't imagined that, in the short time since he'd parted ways with them, something like this had happened between Jodie and Xiayu — much less that Jodie would go so far as to challenge her outright.
He'd known full well that Xiayu's skills were impressive, but he'd never had a concrete sense of just how impressive. So now he was genuinely dying to know the outcome. Measured against the FBI, how long had it taken Xiayu to beat her?
"So, Jodie-sensei — how long did you last?"
Huh?!
For a moment Conan thought he'd blurted his inner thoughts out loud, before he realized the voice belonged to Haibara.
He glanced over at her, faintly surprised that even she would take an interest in something like this.
"Hey, hey — you... no, wait, all of you are just assuming I lost, aren't you?!"
Hands planted on her hips in irritation, Jodie shot a look at the one who'd asked the question — only to discover that Haibara, Dr. Agasa, and Conan were all gazing back at her with the exact same expression, which annoyed her all the more.
"Fine, fine, I admit it. I lost. I lasted about three minutes." After sulking for a moment, her pride gave out and she told the truth — though she couldn't bring herself to mention that Xiayu seemed to have been letting her off easy during those three minutes.
"Anyway, I said my goodbyes and headed out. On the way, I spotted you bolting out of the building looking pale as a ghost, and after thinking it over, I decided to keep tailing that woman. But when I noticed she was deliberately doubling back and taking detours, I gave up and dropped the tail."
So that's how it was. Which meant the strange car Rena Mizunashi had mentioned spotting over the wire — the one following her — really had been the FBI's after all.
Once the group compared notes, and Jodie learned that Conan had accidentally planted a transmitter and tracker on Rena Mizunashi and that the Organization had an operation scheduled for one o'clock, she stopped trying to talk him into leaving. Instead she climbed into Dr. Agasa's car herself, relayed the situation to her colleagues, and joined Conan in the field.
In the car, Conan worked the problem over and finally pinned it down: DJ, the Organization's assassination target this time, was Domon Yasuteru, a candidate about to run in the House of Representatives election.
The reason the Organization had marked Domon was his fierce sense of justice. Time and again in newspapers and on television he'd thundered against violence and crime, and his public support reflected it — his odds of winning a seat were extremely high. And if he actually became a Diet member, the fallout for the Organization's underground operations would be severe.
Little by little, the rain eased and finally stopped.
Now they knew who DJ meant — but the location behind "Eddy P" was still anyone's guess.
Only about half an hour remained until one o'clock. If they couldn't crack it soon, they'd never make it in time.
Then Haibara said something that sparked it for Conan.
A hunting ground...
And when he recalled that Vermouth had once used that very word, the answer clicked: Eddy P — Haido Park.
The moment the location fell into place, Conan ordered the Professor to drive for Haido Park at once.
Haido Park.
Chianti and Korn had already taken up their designated sniping positions, scopes trained on the spot where Kir was due to deliver Domon Yasuteru.
"Gin, is Kir not here yet?" Chianti's brows knitted, boredom itching under her skin as she prodded Gin over the comm from the parking lot.
"Patience. Kir is already bringing DJ to the spot now." Gin's voice was calm, carrying just a thread of warning — Chianti and Korn were to follow orders and do nothing unnecessary.
As Gin's group waited in silence for the moment to come, another car glided into the parking lot.
Nothing out of the ordinary there — they were in a public lot, after all, and cars came and went constantly. So Gin, Vodka, and Cointreau spared it not so much as a glance.
Only Vermouth, idle and half-bored, let her eyes drift over it casually — and in that single glance, she saw a familiar figure step out of the car. One who had absolutely no business being here.
That boy... and... the FBI. Why?
Vermouth's eyes widened slightly, and she let out a resigned sigh.
Cointreau, seated beside her, caught the sudden ripple of emotion from Vermouth with a hunter's sharpness, and turned to study her.
Before he could even ask, a car he found vaguely familiar came into view through the window on her side of the vehicle.
Well, well. No need to question Vermouth now.
He'd never laid eyes on the car himself, but he had thoroughly investigated the people close to this world's protagonist, and he knew exactly whose it was: Dr. Agasa, Shinichi Kudo's former next-door neighbor.
That car being here was no coincidence — he refused to believe it. Add in the fact that it had rattled Vermouth's composure, and the answer was obvious: she had spotted Edogawa Conan.
He'd assumed the FBI would be today's only complication. Now the protagonist himself had shown up, and the woman beside him was liable to drag things down as well. The odds of completing today's mission, he judged, were not high.
But Cointreau wasn't particularly disappointed. He'd received his sister's message yesterday and had adjusted his expectations accordingly; tagging along today had been nothing more than a long shot. If the mission failed, it would cost him nothing.