Conan: The Phantom Heart Thief

Bang!

"Ah!"

"Doo-doo-doo-doo..."

Behind Kazawa, Xingchuan Hui, who was sitting in the car, watched the fight with tension at first, then gradually relaxed, and eventually became bored. Looking left and right, he could only grab the drink Kazawa had stuffed into his hands on the subway and started sipping it.

It looked like Kazawa's strength was totally overwhelming. Just seeing the various things behind him—sometimes tentacles flying around, sometimes holy light shining, strange... spirit behind him?—you could tell he was completely crushing the enemy.

After watching for another two minutes, Xingchuan Hui even started to feel a little sorry for the guy.

This was way too brutal...

The whole set of moves was so flashy, and before you could even see clearly what was happening, Kazawa had already kicked the guy in the head, pointed a gun at him and said something, then did a backflip and jumped back to his spot—ending the combo, and switching to a different angle to stomp on the guy's head again...

Rather than calling it a fight, it was more like he was pounding mochi. If you told Xingchuan Hui there wasn't any personal grudge involved, he wouldn't believe it.

"Phew—" After a round of torment, Kazawa finally beat the shadow of Tatsuya Kimura back into human shape. He let out a breath, stood up feeling refreshed, and sheathed the katana in his hand.

The shadow of Tatsuya Kimura, who had been beaten to the ground, struggled to raise his head and looked at Kazawa, then crawled back a little.

"Still acting like that? Still tsundere? Still mouthing off?" Kazawa crouched down, tapping Tatsuya Kimura's face with the sheath. "You're only lucky someone liked you. In a place as wholesome as Beika Town, being able to tolerate you until now before finishing you off—means she has a good temper."

Shadow Tatsuya Kimura sobbed—unclear if he was crying from the scolding or the pain. His well-shaped handsome face was covered in snot and tears, and he couldn't even mutter any of his usual dark mutterings.

"This is for your own good," Kazawa said earnestly, patting his already swollen cheeks. "Talk like a normal person. Apologize properly. Maybe you'll even score yourself a girlfriend. In Beika Town, if you keep mouthing off like that, you'll die early."

From the back seat, Xingchuan Hui couldn't hold back and sucked in a big mouthful of juice, then choked a bit.

"What, did I say something wrong?" Hearing that, Kazawa let go of the now bawling and fading shadow, turned his head slowly toward the car.

Xingchuan Hui looked at the katana in Kazawa's hand—now stained with Kimura's snot and tears—and obediently nodded. "Nope, I think he should thank you."

Kazawa raised an eyebrow, grabbed the floating "Sprout of the Secret Treasure," and tossed both the glowing orb and the dirty katana into his inventory. Adjusting his scarf, he walked back to the car.

"Exactly." Kazawa leaned back in the passenger seat. "He really should thank me. I extended his life in one shot."

Xingchuan Hui's eyebrows twitched twice, but in the end, he didn't dare say what he was thinking.

Kazawa himself didn't even realize that his phantom thief form was a bit flashier, more flamboyant than usual—closer to his true personality. Some of the grumbles he normally kept in his heart would come straight out of his mouth in this state.

Xingchuan Hui saw it clearly—Kazawa was more relaxed, more reckless in this world, and acted on emotions more.

Best not to provoke him. Mouth off and get punched—it wouldn't feel nice.

So Xingchuan Hui obediently gripped the steering wheel. "So, does this count as mission complete? Should we head back now?"

"The main objective is complete." Kazawa stretched his back like a lazy cat, curled up comfortably in the seat, and pointed his thumb behind him. "Let's head out. Keep going down to the lower levels."

Now that he had a driver, there was no way he wouldn't explore deeper.

Without the Holy Grail, what lay at the bottom of this world's cognitive space?

Kazawa was really curious.

Meanwhile, at the KTV, things were starting to get out of hand.

Tatsuya Kimura, who had started drinking heavily, tried to coax Conan into singing. Not knowing his limits, he bragged: "I'm a professional singer. If you don't know how to sing, I can guide you! No worries, it's a happy day—come on, sing one!"

Conan glanced hesitantly at Ran Mouri's encouraging smile and took the mic with a stiff face.

He really wasn't good at singing... If he really sang, and it sounded too much like when he was a kid, would Ran suspect something...?

"Come on, little guy," said drummer Katsumi Yamada, joining in and sitting at the song machine. "If you can't sing anything else, sing a nursery rhyme! I'll pick one for you... Here, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star! You definitely know that one!"

Looking at the lyrics on screen, Conan's heart began to stir a little.

He actually liked music. He had listened to a lot of classical and pop since he was young, and sometimes he'd sing casually. It's just... his ears and vocal cords didn't seem to work well together...

Well, if everyone insisted, might as well try.

Thinking that, he raised the mic and started singing the first line.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star—"

That one line shook the heavens. Earth-shattering.

All the background noise in the karaoke room vanished.

Ran, who had kindly taken out her phone like a responsible host parent to record Conan's singing and send it to "Edogawa Fumiyo," was so startled by the voice that her hand wobbled, and the screen blurred and twisted. The video matched the sound perfectly—distorted in a way that could lower one's sanity.

Sonoko Suzuki gasped and reflexively reached to cover her ears.

Kimura and Yamada froze, hands in midair.

Fortunately, their manager, Mari Terahara, had experience with disasters. Quick as lightning, she smacked the control panel, and Conan's cursed singing was cut off. The original child version started playing instead.

"Phew—" Everyone let out a breath in unison.

"Ahem, cough cough..." Kimura, sobered up by the sonic assault, awkwardly rubbed his ears and whispered to Ran, "Where does your kid go to school? Do they not have music classes?"

Ran ended the recording with trembling hands, forcing a smile. "Uh... well... we just found out today too..."

Conan really couldn't sing. The last time she heard such a shocking voice was when Shinichi...

Hmm?

Ran frowned suspiciously.

When Kimura leaned closer to talk to her, the king of jealousy couldn't stand it anymore. Forgetting his own vocal ambitions, he tossed the mic aside, walked over, and sat down right next to Ran.

She watched him, hesitating in thought.

He really did sound like Shinichi... Was she imagining things because she missed him too much?

Now that Conan had left the mic, everyone relaxed a bit.

Sonoko stared into space, clearly shell-shocked by the singing. Mari felt sorry for the band members who had caused the trouble.

Of all the suggestions, they had to make the kid sing? He even said he couldn't!

She pushed Yamada aside from the song machine and offered, "Let's pick some Rex songs. You two are big fans, right? Let's have Tatsuya sing one for you. Which of our songs do you like?"

Ran was lost in thought and didn't respond. Sonoko's eyes lit up. She raised her hand: "Do Goddess Stained in Blood! I started following the band because of that song. It's amazing!"

"Okay, that one it is," Mari nodded calmly, queuing the song from the library.

She had wanted to pick that for him anyway...

So this was fate.

Her eyes grew misty, and she smiled bitterly.

Even after deciding to destroy this terrible man who had trampled her for so long—she still wanted to cry. What a hypocrite she was.

Hugging her coat, she watched the child's version of Twinkle Twinkle fade out.

Sonoko noticed Mari's expression suddenly turn sad and felt bad.

Did Kimura hate song requests from fans that much? Maybe they should—

Before she could speak, the next song's intro had already begun.

The familiar melody caught the attention of the band members.

The guitarist with the flashy dyed bangs smiled and patted Kimura's shoulder. "It's this one, huh? Go for it, Tatsuya!"

The alcohol started surging again. Kimura shook his head and stood up with a smile: "Nice choice... listen closely, everyone. You won't get to hear this again. Rex doesn't have much of a future left."

He spouted the most ominous line ever, then tugged his coat and—amid the stunned or sorrowful expressions of the crowd—picked up the mic Conan had left by the table and placed it on the stand.

Grinning confidently, he leaned toward the mic to say his usual pre-show hype line, ready to toss off his coat dramatically.

But suddenly, his expression went blank.

Twenty seconds of intro passed. He didn't say a word. The heavy drumbeats echoed in the room—like heartbeats.

"Tatsuya?" The guitarist Mieko Shibasaki, who had been crying from his "band is ending" speech, wiped her eyes and looked up in confusion.

His musical instincts were never wrong. He had never missed his cue—even in rehearsal.

"Tatsuya, what's wrong?" Mari, shaken from her grief, stepped forward. "Not feeling well?"

She was plotting his death. No, not just plotting—it was happening. The poisoned coat was already on him. As soon as he performed, death would come silently.

But even so, she couldn't stop worrying, couldn't stop going to him. Years of centering her life around him had made caring for him a reflex.

Tatsuya lowered his head—and suddenly knocked over the mic stand.

The mic fell to the ground with a loud, harsh screech.

"Tatsuya?" Mari panicked and rushed over to check his face.

But before she could see clearly, he suddenly pulled her into a tight hug.