"The list of Tequila's transactions..." Amuro Toru asked casually, "What do you want that for?"
Of course, Amuro Toru had that list—the one that had fallen into police hands.
But for Bourbon, explaining how he got it required some finesse.
Luckily... he glanced at Vermouth in the driver's seat.
This colleague never paid much attention to these "little private actions."
"Wasn't this the mission you gave me, senpai?" Kazawa, fully geared up, played along effortlessly as he answered softly on the phone. "Don't tell me you just threw me to Izu without any intention of providing me with mission info? Senpai, memory loss can be a symptom of many diseases—you shouldn't ignore it."
Toru Amuro subconsciously gripped his phone tighter.
...Did I really teach Kazawa to talk like this? Do I really sound this sarcastic?
What mission? I just threw him there to get him out of the way!
What is this guy even up to now…
Amuro Toru took a deep breath, the corners of his eyes twitching. "That list isn't part of your mission. What leaked out was just an 'incomplete version.' I... acquired it by accident."
"I understand, I understand. Putting your teachings into practice doesn't come free. That'll be extra." A laughing voice came from the receiver.
Amuro Toru took another deep breath.
"I'll send it to you later." With a tsk, he hung up in irritation, applying at least 40% real pressure to the end call button.
Even though he could tell someone else from the organization was nearby as soon as he picked up, and that kind of awareness was good...
But this guy Kumail—always using honorifics, never saying anything nice—really made him want to punch something!
Vermouth, who was driving, chuckled softly.
Amuro Toru shot her a look and laughed. "You're interested in Kumail?"
"Sounds like a very interesting kid." Vermouth turned the wheel and turned down the next road. "I should thank him."
"Because he killed 'Karasawa Akira'?" Amuro Toru turned to look at Vermouth's well-defined profile, probing calmly. "Didn't expect you to have a grudge against the Karasawa family."
"Hehe…" Vermouth didn't answer directly. She played with a strand of her blonde hair, a faint rose scent spreading in the enclosed space. "I heard his disguise technique is exactly like mine… I'd really like to see it for myself."
Her tone was neutral. It was impossible to tell whether it was good-natured or not.
Though she was smiling, Amuro Toru couldn't conclude that this sharp and unpredictable woman wouldn't harm Kazawa.
Getting no clear answer, he gave up probing and turned his eyes to the restaurant ahead.
Vermouth pulled into the driveway of the lavish building, the sports car purring to a stop.
A waiter quickly came over to open both doors.
Vermouth casually tossed the keys to the valet and walked toward the luxurious banquet hall with Amuro Toru in formal dress beside her.
"It's a fine evening," Vermouth said softly, her face now transformed into a complete stranger's. "Let's not talk about those spoilers for now. I've always liked the French food here."
Amuro Toru paused his email for a second but still sent it—with an attachment—to Kumail's inbox before putting the phone away. Then he smiled and gestured politely: "At your service, ma'am."
His purple-gray eyes flicked toward her hand resting lightly on his arm.
Was she trying to guess his real relationship with Kumail? What a sharp and difficult woman.
—
"Why do you keep looking at your phone? Is something going on?" Mouri Ran asked curiously as she noticed Kazawa's attention drifting toward his phone again. "If you're busy, you don't need to stay for dinner. You've already gone out of your way to cover our room costs."
"It's nothing. Just some study materials. I'll review them later," Kazawa turned off the screen and shifted his focus back to the meal. "Seafood tastes better by the sea. What do you think?"
"It's really good!" Mouri Ran nodded enthusiastically.
"Ah, eating like this really hits the spot," Mouri Kogoro said with a lobster shell in one hand and a beer in the other. His cheeks were flushed from the sunset and the alcohol. "Thanks a lot!"
"There are a few sashimi dishes, too. Looks like they're all tuna caught today." Kazawa picked up some crab meat without hesitation. "The shrimp's fresh, too. Help yourselves, everyone."
At this moment, Kazawa's casual tone carried a kind of satisfaction and ease.
Especially when he thought about how this whole seafood feast was being paid for by the organization's credit card—he practically wanted to stand up and announce to the whole restaurant: "I'm paying tonight!"
Didn't you see how Miyano Akemi and Hoshikawa Teru—both aware of where the money came from—were eating like their heads were about to disappear into their plates?
In this happy, lively atmosphere, only Conan looked out of place.
Ever since he noticed the overlap between the attendees and Tequila's list, his mind had been spinning nonstop.
Why would the organization collect a list of programmers? Was it to build a specific piece of software? To develop some critical program?
Would they really send a code-named agent to meet with employees of a gaming company just for that?
Or was it not about the program at all? Was there something else that made these people so valuable to the organization?
"Hey..." Kazawa reached over and tapped Conan's head lightly. "What are you thinking about? Eat."
"Ah!" Conan snapped out of his thoughts—Kazawa had shoved a piece of lobster into his mouth. He chewed reflexively a few times, then blinked. "...You seem to be enjoying this."
Was Kazawa really here to investigate alongside him?
Why did it feel like he was actually on vacation?
"Relax. Investigations don't always have to be done with a serious face." Kazawa wiped his mouth and pointed with his chopsticks at a nearby table. "Those three guys are programmers from an Internet company about to go public. Their financials are suspected of being falsified. If they can't produce a flashy new feature to attract investors, their IPO's going to flop."
Conan followed his gesture. The three men at the next table looked nervous, glancing around and discussing quietly.
"And over there," Kazawa pointed again, this time to a smaller table. A man and a woman were sitting together, chatting softly. Nothing seemed out of place. "The police suspect them of online financial fraud. They're urgently looking for someone to erase all traces from their devices—otherwise, they'll go to jail."
"So they're all here for the 'Night Baron' virus..." Conan glanced around the packed outdoor restaurant and looked at Kazawa in surprise. "You've only been here a day—how did you learn all that?"
Kazawa raised his chilled soda and winked. "VIPs—people are more willing to talk when they think you're rich."
"Oh, so that's why you booked the presidential suite," Conan muttered, now understanding. Who knows what he was imagining. "You've collected quite a bit of intel. You're better at this than I expected."
Kazawa just smiled and squinted his eyes.
He wasn't being clever—he just liked buying expensive things so he could get more money reimbursed.