Mount Takao, outskirts of Tokyo.

Fujino parked his car in a clearing near the forest edge.

After locking it, he donned his Batman mask and headed deep into the woods.

Not far from the car, an ancient structure came into view.

It appeared to be a temple, perched precariously on a cliffside, supported by countless wooden stilts.

A waterfall cascaded down the cliff face above, carrying cherry blossom petals onto the temple's walkways, creating a scene of serene, traditional Japanese elegance.

Using the telescopic function of his enhanced vision glasses, Fujino clearly read the plaque above the temple entrance, even shrouded in night: "Sanneiji Temple".

A place where monks sought refuge from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worldly troubles, dedicating themselves to rigorous spiritual practice.

But Fujino knew the truth.

In reality, Sanneiji Temple was little more than a tool for making money.

Its head priest, Ten'ei, was a fraud, merely wearing monk's robes while engaging in all sorts of sordid activities.

Fujino retracted his gaze, pulled a pair of leather gloves from his pocket dimension, put them on, and stealthily infiltrated Sanneiji Temple.

Ascending the steps, he cautiously slid open the temple door. Inside was a traditional wooden entryway.

The temple's interior layout was complex. Despite Fujino wearing soft-soled shoes, the old, creaking wooden floors groaned faintly underfoot, even with his careful steps.

"Creek... creek..."

Suddenly, footsteps approached from around a nearby corner.

Fujino frowned, hearing the sound, and drew a Batman Anesthetic Batarang from his pocket dimension.

[100% Strength Enhancement Activated. Remaining Time: 59 seconds]

As the footsteps drew closer, a portly figure in monk's training robes emerged from the corner.

The figure turned its head.

The two locked eyes: "..."

"Brother Mokunen? Are you also going for a crap?"

The young monk, Tonnen, having just finished his business, squinted, mistaking the figure before him for his senior monk.

But instead of an answer, a black shape whizzed towards him with considerable force.

"Thwip!"

The dart embedded itself in his ample belly.

For a moment, the young monk felt a sharp sting, like an insect bite.

Then, his vision went black, his legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the wooden floor.

Seeing the monk go down, Fujino cautiously approached, removed his glove, and checked the monk's pulse as a precaution.

Still alive.

Works well.

Confirming the young monk was merely tranquilized, not dead,

Fujino retrieved the Batarang and continued deeper into the temple.

The night grew darker.

In the temple's largest room, faint candlelight flickered through the paper screen doors.

Head Priest Ten'ei sat disheveled at a low table, chugging sake straight from the bottle.

His flushed face indicated he was thoroughly drunk.

"Creek, creak, creak."

Footsteps sounded on the wooden floor outside.

The unexpected noise irritated the old priest.

He slammed the sake bottle down and bellowed drunkenly towards the door,

"Who's still up?! Can't sleep, looking for a beating?!"

But just as he finished yelling and reached for the bottle again,

a silhouette appeared on the paper screen door.

It was a figure of standard build, but strangely, there were two sharp points protruding from the top of its head.

The old priest squinted at the bizarre silhouette, frowning.

However, already drunk, he didn't think much of it.

He assumed it was one of his young disciples playing a prank.

Then, his door slid open abruptly.

Before he could react, his vision faded to black.

The sound of rushing water filled his ears.

The old priest slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a sky full of stars.

"Where... where am I?"

His head throbbing dully, the old priest sat up slowly, scratching his head in confusion.

The surroundings were familiar – the cliff top above his temple.

But how did he get here?

Did he black out from drinking?

Confused, the old priest looked around.

And saw, standing not far away, a man wearing a black mask and a black cloak.

The two locked eyes: "..."

[Detective Aura Triggered: Inflicting significant psychological pressure on the criminal target.]

"Who... who are you?"

The old priest remembered what happened before he blacked out. He swallowed hard, scrambling backward, terrified by the ominous figure.

It was this person. He saw this person, then everything went dark.

And when he opened his eyes again, he was here...

"I'm Batman."

Distorted by the voice changer, Fujino's voice was deep and gravelly.

Reminiscent of a certain Gotham billionaire.

"Batman?"

The old priest mumbled the name, his expression utterly bewildered.

Fujino ignored the old man's strange look.

He slowly walked forward, grabbed the priest by the collar, and lifted him slightly.

"How did Monk Chunnen really die?"

"Chunnen?!"

The old priest started, surprised.

He paused, looking guilty.

"Wasn't he... killed by the Tengu?"

That wasn't the answer Fujino wanted.

He shook his head.

And forcefully threw the old priest forward.

The priest, being over seventy and frail,

cried out in pain as he hit the ground, thrown by the enhanced Fujino.

"This old geezer could actually kill someone?"

Fujino frowned, watching the old man groaning on the ground nearby.

But then his frown smoothed out.

Well, that art museum curator could swing a giant sword around.

A seventy-something priest using special techniques to commit murder?

Seems plausible enough.

Very Conan-logical.

Fujino felt no pity for the old man just because of his age.

He retrieved the Batarang he'd used earlier and threw it again.

Thirty minutes later.

Fujino stood over the priest, rhythmically tapping the old man's bald head with his bokken like striking a temple block.

Meanwhile, the system chimed repeatedly in his ear:

[Swordsman Proficiency +1]

[Swordsman Proficiency +1]...

To avoid revealing the bokken, Fujino had thoughtfully placed a black cloth sack over the priest's head beforehand.

He'd also showcased his rope skills, tying the priest's limbs with an intricate knot shaped like a bat symbol.

"You killed Monk Chunnen, didn't you?"

Fujino continued his 'temple block tapping'.

"How exactly did you kill him? And why?"

"I really didn't kill Chunnen..."

Muffled by the sack, the old priest's voice still sounded stubborn and unrepentant.

"Stubborn old fool!"

Fujino's brow furrowed. He raised the bokken high, bringing it down sharply onto the back of the head beneath the sack.

Thwack!

With a choked cry, the old priest felt as if struck by a steel pipe. His world went black again as he passed out.

When Fujino had dealt with Numabuchi Kiichiro, it took five or six hits to knock him out.

But this old man?

Out cold in one hit.

It took away half the fun of the interrogation for Fujino.