Conan: The Phantom Heart Thief

A massive explosion out of nowhere—clearly, this train wasn't going anywhere now.

The train came to an emergency stop, all passengers were evacuated and rerouted, and the tense police quickly surrounded the station, fearing this might be a terrorist attack on the Shinkansen.

Escorted by railway officers, the passengers from car No. 7—those at the very heart of the incident—were all brought in for questioning.

Having come into direct contact with Joker, Conan and Ran Mouri became the top priority. Surrounded by multiple officers like celebrities, the two were escorted off the train.

On the other side, Kogoro Mouri, who had drunk too much the previous night, was still sound asleep in his seat—so much so that even the earth-shaking blast hadn't managed to wake him. He too was carried off the train under police escort.

The three people who were supposed to be heading to Kyoto for a wedding looked at each other through the wall of police, all at a loss for words.

Ran was still holding the black leather jacket Joker had taken off. She looked down at it, hesitated, but ultimately didn't tell the police where it came from.

Joker had clearly discovered the bomb. She still didn't understand why he had made a kid like Conan help him, but it was clear that everything he did back then had saved everyone on board.

She had already overreacted by beating him up in a misunderstanding. If she turned over his jacket as evidence and they actually found something on it…

So, in the end, Ran simply explained why they had ended up fighting, that Joker had smashed a window and jumped out just before the suitcase exploded—doing her best to downplay Joker's role.

Conan, on the other hand, wasn't so restrained.

He'd been involved the most in the entire thing. He even knew Joker's real identity and who the two black-clad men were. He was ready to feed the police just enough information to shift suspicion onto Gin and his accomplice.

In his heart, Conan apologized to his neighbor—and without hesitation, dumped everything on Joker.

He claimed he overheard the long-haired man saying things like "bomb" and "deal," and asked what he meant by "bomb on the train." The man told him he was the phantom thief Joker and asked him to help find something in car No. 7…

Anyway, to both cover his own tracks and help the police detain the woman involved in the deal with Gin, Conan unleashed all the bullshitting skills he had honed over the years—painting the whole incident as a one-man show staged by Joker.

The deal? Overheard by him. The bomb? Found by him. The action? Led by him.

"And me? I'm just an innocent elementary schooler who happened to help out a bit…"

So, the immediate outcome of this earth-shaking incident was…

"What's with the reporters in this world…" Kazawa looked at the front-page photo in the paper and shut his eyes in defeat.

Across from him, Xingchuan Hui, still wearing Kazawa's face, was chuckling to himself. "It's fine—they actually made you look cool."

"Coolness isn't the point!!" Kazawa grabbed the newspaper and shoved the massive photo in Xingchuan Hui's face. "How the hell did they even take this picture?!"

It was a photo taken at the most ridiculous, split-second moment: the white-haired phantom thief, one hand gripping a bright red hook chain and the other holding a black suitcase, leapt out of the broken train window, body taut like he was riding an invisible chariot through the air.

Behind him were shards of broken glass and fluttering red cards, forming a dazzling tail of sparks.

Sure, it looked cool—but how was this captured? Did the reporter hang off the side of the train waiting for him to jump?!

Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. It defied all logic. Kazawa suspected there might be Trisolarans using sophons to monitor him.

Xingchuan Hui, being a local, was much calmer. He casually sipped coffee and placed Kazawa's commuter bag beside the couch. "Yeah, the timing's impressive. Maybe someone in the back car was taking pictures of Mt. Fuji and accidentally caught it?"

Kazawa slapped his forehead, overcome with helplessness.

No way that was just "accidental."

What kind of dynamic vision would you need to instantly react to someone jumping out of a train window and snap a perfectly clear, focused shot with no blur or overexposure?

Now he couldn't even justify his own stylish entrances.

If one day he didn't look cool enough and got caught on camera by some mysterious Superman reporter, it'd be such a disgrace to the Phantom Thieves. He was going to need to start maintaining an idol image.

With a sigh, Kazawa set the paper down, no longer interested in reading the exaggerated praise, and picked up the coffee Xingchuan Hui brewed. "How's school going?"

"You should just switch back and go yourself," Xingchuan Hui said with a sigh. "That girl named Sonoko Suzuki keeps talking to me. My face is getting sore from smiling… She's going to start suspecting something if this keeps up."

"Don't worry about it. She just wants to stare at your face—she doesn't care what you say. Even if you sat there stone-faced pretending not to hear, she'd still be satisfied," Kazawa shrugged, speaking from experience.

Face-lovers are only there for the view. Who cares about personality?

"Still, you really ought to go to school more often. Get a feel for social life with your peers. You didn't run away from everything just to become my assistant. Relax a little. Give yourself some freedom…" Kazawa said, a bit wistfully, like a doting dad.

Xingchuan Hui had grown up moving from place to place with his mother, never even having a stable home. After being discovered by Tunkouchi Nobuhiko, he was locked up and trained in who-knows-what kinds of nonsense. He didn't have any real friends his age.

And Kazawa didn't count. Despite looking young, he was closer in age to Amuro Tooru—a green-painted old cucumber, as it were. He didn't think he could offer much youthful energy.

"Nothing wrong with it," Xingchuan Hui paused, looking away from Kazawa's gaze. "I'm pretty relaxed and free right now."

Kazawa shook his head and dropped the topic.

He'd brought Xingchuan Hui into the Phantom Thieves—and even directly into the Metaverse—with a bit of a test in mind. He wanted to see if this world could produce another Persona user.

Just like he and Amuro had speculated, Xingchuan Hui was very similar to Kazawa himself—a classic "urban legend of suffering" protagonist, a boy with no place in society. If he could create tarot, maybe he could awaken too.

Unfortunately, after several observations, Xingchuan Hui seemed to have heavy emotional barriers. Not someone likely to awaken easily. For now, Kazawa had no solution.

Or maybe… it was exactly because the person in front of him was Kazawa—that "miracle"—that made certain thoughts even harder for Xingchuan Hui to express.

No rush. It would come in time. Kazawa shrugged.

The Phantom Thieves weren't lacking in firepower. Kazawa alone was more than enough. Even if Xingchuan Hui did awaken, Kazawa could give him one hand and still beat him easily.

He was a cheat character—the Wild Card protagonist.

Was he really going to lose to some random newbie Persona user? If so, he might as well eat the entire Persona Compendium on the spot.

"Alright, go take off your disguise. Then let's hit the subway—we've got a few scumbags to clean up." Kazawa stretched and popped his joints. "Then I'm going back to the café to rest. Today was exhausting."

…His arm was still sore. Ran Mouri was terrifying.

Thank you, Xingchuan Hui, for your sponsored skill: Endure. Without the pain-dulling buff, it would've been more than just soreness.

Next time, he'd definitely make sure to stay in Phantom Thief form while sparring with her. Without some kind of Null Physical and Heal, it wasn't safe.

"Coming," Xingchuan Hui replied, letting out a relieved breath as he stood and skillfully peeled off the face mask.

"This time, let's dive deeper." Kazawa rubbed his chin in anticipation. "That explosion on the Shinkansen should be all over the news by now… Joker made such a big scene—maybe new areas have opened up. Let's go check it out."

Sticking close to Conan never lacked excitement. Every kind of sensational event imaginable was fair game. Today's trip into the cognitive realm had him fired up and eager.

So when Gin called, the background noise on Kazawa's end was the violent crack of SMGs spraying bullets into shadows—and the despairing screams of defeated enemies.

Gin: "…"

So all that heavy weaponry they requisitioned…

Was really for massacring people in Beika Town?