Detective Conan: Death Note

Saturday.

The meeting spot was a quiet café.

Not long after the doorbell chimed, a blonde woman sat down across from Hayashi Yoshiki.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"I just got here myself."

Hayashi smiled warmly at Jodie, then glanced around before pulling out his shoulder bag.

Inside was a laptop.

"Let's get straight to the point. This contains some material I obtained from the task force. Once we realized that recent 'accidental deaths' had invisible hands behind them, nearly all related footage was deleted or confiscated by the police—only the task force has kept internal records."

"…They went that far?"

"This is just a small portion. Once you see it, Miss Jodie, I think you'll understand."

Jodie didn't waste time.

She thanked him seriously and moved the laptop in front of her to examine its contents.

Most of the files were traffic incident recordings.

As one shocking accident after another played out, Jodie's expression shifted—from grim, to disbelief to horror. These were nothing like the case with Shuichi Akai. That one bore clear signs of human intervention. But the incidents on these videos… they defied logic. Accidents that simply shouldn't have happened—yet did.

Even though she had dealt with things like bus hijackings, Jodie had never imagined this.

It was beyond anything she had encountered.

Then she came across a video from Osaka—one where Hayashi Yoshiki had been injured by a blast while trying to save a victim moments before their death.

"Mr. Hayashi…?"

"You see now? I have a personal vendetta against the killer."

Hayashi took a sip of his coffee, his expression calm and smiling.

That serene smile made it hard to imagine he had gone through such a harrowing event.

"To pull off these kinds of 'accidents,' the calculations required are beyond anything an ordinary mind could manage. The level of intelligence and control over the whole situation is… unreal."

"…Is it even possible for a human to do something like this?"

"And yet, here it is—right in front of us."

Seeing Jodie's pale, disturbed face, Hayashi gently set down his cup.

"I can't reveal the task force's current progress. In fact, just showing you this data and these videos goes beyond what I agreed on with the police… Please, Miss Jodie, keep this confidential."

"Of course."

Jodie nodded firmly.

Just as they were diving deeper into the discussion, Jodie's phone suddenly rang.

She picked it up—and within seconds, her expression changed dramatically.

"What did you say!?"

She stood up so suddenly that other customers turned to look.

But she couldn't care less.

After hearing the message, she couldn't focus anymore. She started to grab her things to leave—but then paused.

"Mr. Hayashi."

She looked at him, serious and urgent. "I may need your help!"

"…Understood."

Hayashi Yoshiki smiled inwardly, but his face remained equally serious.

—

"Hello? It's me. Is Shuichi Akai really dead or not?"

"We're trying to confirm that, aren't we?"

With a mocking smirk, Gin's eyes gleamed with scorn.

His cold tone offered no clarity, and Rum immediately ended the call.

"…So, what's going on, big brother?"

Vodka couldn't help but ask Gin.

Gin didn't answer.

His eyes were on the time displayed on his phone.

They were near Beika Department Store.

Every piece had been positioned. It was almost time for the play to unfold—just as Cointreau had requested.

As Gin waited patiently, Chianti's irritable voice came through the earpiece:

"Where's the target? Who exactly is it? Why the hell am I sitting here with a sniper rifle and no target information!? How long am I supposed to wait like this!?"

"And seriously, why the hell do I have to set up a rifle in such a visible spot!? This place is totally exposed, dammit!"

Her voice was filled with fury.

She was in a hotel across from the department store, rifle pointed at the building's main entrance.

The open window and lack of cover were driving her—someone who preferred shadows—into unease.

Below her, parked right under the window, was a sleek black Porsche 356A.

"This was Cointreau's request."

"…Huh? What the hell is he playing at?"

Hearing that it was Hayashi Yoshiki's request, Chianti's tone stayed sharp, but her irritation seemed to ease ever so slightly.

At that moment, the usually silent Korn spoke up:

"Why not let me switch places with Chianti?"

If this was part of Cointreau's 'murder script,' Korn wanted in. It wasn't like a novel, but it still had that same sense of a written plan.

Being part of it… would definitely be fun.

Gin ignored Korn's enthusiasm. He just waited, calm and cold.

—

Inside the department store, Camel was watching through the glass windows.

He could just barely make out the silhouette of a sniper in the hotel across the street.

Then his gaze shifted anxiously to the man walking ahead with his hands in his pockets.

Mr. Akai…

Is that really Mr. Akai?

Sweat beaded on Camel's forehead.

Three days ago, after James and Jodie discovered the potential sighting of Shuichi Akai, the FBI had launched an investigation.

The suspect had made no real effort to hide his movements.

After two days of tracking, they had found him.

But fearing it might be a trap, James instructed that the target be monitored closely.

Only a handful of trusted agents were assigned—and Camel was one of them.

Today, as Camel followed the man into the department store, he made a terrifying discovery.

A sniper was aiming at the entrance from across the street.

And a black Porsche 356A was parked right below.

The realization made cold sweat pour down his back.

He immediately called James and Jodie.

"What should I do?"

"We're heading there now. Until then—don't let Akai leave the department store!"

"…Understood."

Camel took another look at the sniper in the distance and nodded seriously.

Camel was not a brilliant man, but even he could sense something was off from James's vague words—"He might be Shuichi Akai… or he might not be."

But if the Organization was sending assassins to kill him, then…

That had to mean it was really Akai—didn't it?