9: Chapter 9: The Bloodstained Idol Murder Case

Tokyo Metropolis, bustling commercial district, inside a high-rise apartment building.

Ran stood by the window on the 25th-floor hallway, gazing out at the glittering Tokyo skyline. "Wow, the view from here is incredible, isn't it?" she remarked, turning to Fujino with a smile. "Right, Fujino-senpai?"

"Yeah, it is," Fujino agreed, though his mind was elsewhere.

The view was spectacular. You could see almost half of Tokyo spread out below – the pulsing neon lights, the endless rivers of headlights flowing through the streets. It had a certain charm.

But that charm came with a hefty price tag.

As far as Fujino knew, an apartment like this, on the 25th floor in the heart of the city, started at one hundred million yen.

This was prime real estate, the kind only Japan's true elite could afford. A view most people could only dream of, even after a lifetime of work.

Actually, he mused, Ran's family isn't doing too bad either.

Their little building is probably worth at least fifty million yen. Ran was basically a low-key rich girl.

"Ah!"

Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed from down the hall. It was Yoko Okino, who had just opened her apartment door.

Simultaneously, a system notification pinged in Fujino's mind:

"New Detective Profession Task detected. Please check for details!"

A glowing screen popped up:

[Detective Profession Task: Bloodstained Idol Case]

Objective: Solve the Bloodstained Idol Murder Case.

Time Limit:3 Hours

Reward:500,000 Yen Bounty

So, it happened after all. Fujino sighed inwardly, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He hurried over to Yoko Okino's side and peered into the apartment.

Just as he expected – a murder scene.

A portly man lay dead on the floor of the dimly lit room. A fruit knife was embedded in his back, blood pooling around the wound, staining the carpet crimson and seeping into the floorboards.

Looking at the body, Fujino couldn't help a morbidly practical thought: Well, there goes the property value.

It was a well-known quirk of Beika Town (and apparently Tokyo in general): houses where someone died plummeted in value, while untouched properties skyrocketed.

Wonder if Yoko rented or bought this place. If she rented, the landlord was probably contemplating suicide right about now.

While everyone else stared at the gruesome scene in horror, Fujino was mentally calculating real estate depreciation.

"Ran, call the police!" Fujino snapped back to the present, instinctively turning to his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠designated emergency-call tool.

Then he caught himself. "Actually, never mind, Ran."

"What's wrong, Fujino-senpai?" Ran, already reaching for her phone, paused, looking confused.

"Uh, I actually brought my mobile phone..." Fujino admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he pulled out the device – the one he'd gotten from the system draw.

"A mobile phone?" Ran eyed it curiously but didn't seem to notice anything unusual about the slightly futuristic design. "Is that one of the new models?"

"Yeah, sort of. Not released yet, actually. A client gave it to me to test out," Fujino lied smoothly.

He started dialing 110, figuring he'd give Ran a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠break from her usual role.

But Yoko's manager, Yamagishi, suddenly intervened.

"Wait, Detective Fujino! Please, if possible, investigate this privately!" Yamagishi glanced nervously at the traumatized Yoko, then grabbed Fujino's arm pleadingly.

"If this gets out, it will ruin Yoko's image!"

"Huh?" Fujino frowned, looking at the manager like he was an idiot.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to keep a murder investigation secret?"

"Yes!" Yamagishi nodded eagerly. "If you could, that would be best."

"Right." Fujino let out a humorless chuckle. "In that case, we need to talk about the fee. How much are you offering? A million? Ten million? Maybe a hundred million yen?"

"Wha-?" Yamagishi stammered. "Ten million? Isn't that a bit... excessive?"

"Are you serious right now? Are you actually that stupid?!" Fujino snapped, grabbing the manager by the collar, his dark eyes boring into Yamagishi's.

"Do you honestly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠think an idol's reputation is more important than a human life?!"

"N-no, that's not what I meant..." Yamagishi stammered, shrinking back, clearly intimidated by Fujino's sudden fury.

"Detective Fujino!" Yoko Okino, finally regaining her composure, spoke up firmly.

"Please, call the police."

"Alright, Okino-san gave the word," Fujino said, shoving Yamagishi aside dismissively.

"If you have no objections, then get out of my way and don't interfere with the investigation!"

Seriously, what is wrong with this guy? Fujino thought contemptuously.

The idol has more sense than her own manager. He should be fired.

Turning away, Fujino finished dialing the police emergency number.

After relaying the situation, he pulled a pair of white gloves from his pocket, put them on, and prepared to enter the crime scene properly.

Just then, a small figure darted past him like a large, dark rat, making a beeline for the body.

It was, of course, Conan!

Fujino frowned, annoyed. He quickly stepped forward and scooped the boy up by the back of his collar.

"Conan-kun, a crime scene isn't a playground for little kids."

"Hehehe..." Conan chuckled nervously, scratching his head.

"I was just curious about what happened..."

"Oh, curious, were you~?" Fujino drawled, his narrowed eyes glinting with amusement.

"Ran! Keep an eye on this 'curiosity' expert, will you? Honestly, kids shouldn't be running around near dead bodies."

"Yes, Fujino-senpai!" Ran immediately pulled Conan out of the room.

In the hallway, she adopted her stern "big sister" tone.

"Conan-kun! Didn't we agree you wouldn't bother Fujino-senpai while he's working?"

"Honestly, you're being so naughty!"

"Sorry, Ran-neechan!" Conan mumbled meekly, looking exactly like a chastised child.

Seeing this, Fujino felt a surge of satisfaction. He shut the apartment door firmly, finally alone with the crime scene.

Outside, Conan glared daggers at the closed door, looking like a sulking spouse.

That jerk! Conan fumed internally. Using Ran against me! That's low!

"Conan, are you even listening?!" Ran snapped, noticing his distracted pout. She rolled up her sleeves, brandishing a small, but undeniably threatening, fist.

Conan froze, seeing the rolled-up sleeve. "Y-yes! I heard you, Ran-neechan!" he squeaked.