"You're the first person to see my real face. If you decide to help the police, I might never escape Japan," the robber exchanging coins for cash said to Ichiro Takayanagi.
"Is that necessary? If you find the right buyer for these coins, I can double their value. Why would I cooperate with the police?" Ichiro replied coolly.
Though the robber admitted that was true, he still said, "I feel my only way out is to be thorough. So… sorry about this."
He pressed the gun—fitted with a suppressor—against Ichiro's seatback, aiming at his heart, and fired. The muffled shot made almost no sound. Ichiro slumped forward onto the bag of coins.
The robber intended to take the coins for himself, but they were too heavy to pull out from the back seat. He got out, opened the passenger door, shoved Ichiro aside, and began tossing the bags into the rear.
Because it was cumbersome, he set his gun down on the car. After moving several heavy bags, he circled around to the driver's side, planning to haul Ichiro out and drive away.
But when he opened the door, a gun was aimed right at him.
It was his own weapon—the suppressor now removed—and the one holding it was none other than Ichiro, the same man he had just shot in the heart.
"That's impossible… you should be dead!" the robber blurted, stunned.
"Sorry, but I really can't die that easily. Now the tables have turned—what's your move?" Ichiro said, raising the gun slightly.
The robber chose to run instead of fighting for his weapon. He turned and bolted toward the parking garage exit.
Ichiro simply shook his head, then fired—aiming for the man's leg.
Bang!
"Ahhh!"
The first sound was the gunshot, the second the robber's scream. The wound wasn't fatal, but it was certainly painful.
Footsteps echoed down the stairwell, and Wataru Takagi arrived with a team.
"Mr. Takayanagi, are you alright?" Takagi asked as the others cuffed the robber and bandaged him. He eyed the gun in Ichiro's hand with some unease.
Ichiro set it down and stepped out of the driver's seat. "That's his gun. I took it from him, and when he tried to run, I shot him in the leg."
Takagi signaled for the weapon to be collected as evidence. Given Ichiro's position and connections, Takagi figured it wasn't strange for him to know how to handle a firearm.
"And the coins and cash…?"
"They're in the trunk. He should have stacked them neatly."
Checking the back, Takagi found several black bags, confirming they held both coins and cash.
At that moment, Megure rushed into the garage—he had been directing the operation outside until news of gunfire brought him running. Takagi quickly reported the situation, after which Megure approached Ichiro.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Takayanagi. We'll make sure this part is omitted from our official records."
He didn't question Ichiro's shooting skills—someone like him could easily have learned.
The robber finally spoke again, glaring at Ichiro. "So you were working with the cops after all. How did that bullet not kill you?"
"This guy's mind must be muddled," Ichiro said flatly.
"No, I'm not! How the hell did you survive?" the man shouted, until Megure ordered Takagi to take him away.
"I didn't expect him to act here in the garage," Megure admitted. "But according to intel from Italy, there should have been four members. Only one showed up."
"The six hundred million yen and coins are intact, but his partners didn't come," Megure mused.
"If you're looking for his partners, I might have a lead," Ichiro said.
"Oh? Any info you share could earn you a bigger cut," Megure offered.
"No need for that—stick to the original agreement," Ichiro refused. "But send someone to check the nearby plaza. Conan and his little friends are playing there… and they have something the robbers want."
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For 20+ Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!]
[www.P@treon.com/Draumel]
[Thank You For Your Support!]