"If we release your companions, what's to stop you from shooting someone anyway?"
Hayashi Shuichi took a step back, attempting to pivot the negotiation. "How about this: you let Master Kisaragi go, and we let all of you leave together."
"This..."
The yellow-haired thug's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, beads of sweat rolling down from beneath the edge of his mask. His gaze flickered back and forth between Shuichi and his two pinned-down accomplices, clearly caught in a desperate internal struggle.
"Just agree to it!" the shorter thug suddenly shrieked from the floor. "Let's just get out of here first! Don't you dare think about leaving us behind! If the police catch us, we're taking you down with us!"
"...Fine!" The yellow-haired thug took a shaky breath. "We'll move to the museum entrance. We exchange the hostages there!"
Shuichi was about to agree when the captive Master Kisaragi began to struggle violently.
"My painting! Don't let them ruin my painting!"
"Right, we're taking the painting with us too!" The yellow-haired thug suddenly remembered their original objective, his voice rising to a frantic pitch. "We didn't come all this way for nothing! If you don't agree to that, then fine—everyone dies!"
He roared hysterically, the muzzle of the gun pressed against Kisaragi's temple trembling with every word.
"...Fine," Shuichi said, forced to concede.
"You!" The yellow-haired thug pointed at Director Ochiai. "Pick up the painting!"
Director Ochiai scrambled up from the floor, cradling the Mount Fuji canvas with trembling hands, terrified that even a single rough movement might damage the masterpiece.
"You two, move back!" the gunman barked at Shuichi and Yusaku, the gun never wavering from Kisaragi's head.
Shuichi and Yusaku began to retreat slowly, keeping the two captured thugs in front of them as shields.
"You too, keep up!" the yellow-haired thug snarled at Director Ochiai.
The Director let out a heavy sigh and clutched the Mount Fuji to his chest, silently following behind Shuichi and Yusaku.
As the group exited the gallery, Shuichi caught sight of Chikage Tomizawa standing in a corner, shielding the three children. He gave her a subtle look, signaling her to stay alert and wait for an opening.
The yellow-haired thug emerged next, dragging Master Kisaragi along. The Master looked utterly terrified, his eyes darting around the hallway in a panicked daze.
Chikage whispered to the children to stay put. She began to inch forward, attempting to flank the gunman from his blind spot. However, just as she was getting close, the yellow-haired thug spun around as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Chikage froze instantly. She forced a strained smile, raising her hands and backing away slowly. "I... I was just worried about the Master's health..."
"If I catch any more of you pulling these little tricks, I'll kill him on the spot!" the thug bellowed in a rage.
The two groups reached the museum entrance. A grey van suddenly screeched to a halt nearby, idling right next to the yellow-haired thug.
"Release them first!" the gunman demanded, backing toward the van. "Don't stall! Let my brothers go right now, or this old man's head is going to explode!"
"We're only here for the money! We don't want a murder charge! As long as you let them go, I won't hurt the Master!"
Shuichi and Yusaku exchanged a look. With the situation at a stalemate, they had no choice but to release their grip.
The tall thug stood up, rubbing his sore wrists, while the shorter one lunged forward and snatched the Mount Fuji from Director Ochiai's arms. The frame let out a sharp, pained groan under the rough handling.
"Careful!" Ochiai cried out. "You'll damage the painting like that!"
The tall and short thugs scrambled into the van.
"Your turn. Let him go," Shuichi said coldly.
"Don't worry, we wouldn't—"
The yellow-haired thug cut himself off mid-sentence. He suddenly shoved Master Kisaragi violently toward Shuichi and lunged for the open door of the van.
Shuichi was caught off guard by the Master stumbling into him, blocking his line of sight.
BANG!
A single gunshot rang out, shattering the air. Yusaku Kudo had fired.
The yellow-haired thug, halfway into the van, stiffened. He collapsed backward like a marionette with its strings cut, hitting the concrete with a heavy thud.
"Go! Move it!" the tall thug screamed from inside the vehicle.
The van roared to life, tires screeching as it tore away from the curb. Yusaku fired several more shots at the driver's seat. Though the bullets shattered the windshield, the driver had already ducked low. The van accelerated down the street and vanished around a corner in seconds.
Shuichi steadied the staggering Master Kisaragi. "Master, are you alright?"
Master Kisaragi didn't answer. His gaze was fixed solely on the body of the yellow-haired thug lying on the ground. Blood was beginning to seep from the wound in the man's back, pooling into a dark, gruesome puddle on the pavement.
Shuichi handed the Master over to Director Ochiai and stepped forward to examine the body.
"He's dead," Shuichi announced briefly. "The shot hit his heart. There's no saving him."
"A pity," Yusaku Kudo said, shaking his head. "The van still got away."
"And the painting..."
Director Ochiai murmured, his eyes hollow, looking as though his very soul had been extinguished. "It's over. It's all over... The museum is ruined..."
His voice was thick with despair and self-reproach. In that single moment, he seemed to age ten years.
"...There is no need for the Director to worry so much. It was just a painting," Master Kisaragi suddenly spoke, his voice eerily calm.
He patted Director Ochiai gently on the shoulder. "I will paint another Mount Fuji later and gift it to the museum."
"Truly?" Ochiai looked up sharply.
"Of course," Master Kisaragi smiled. "I cannot very well let the Beika Art Museum go bankrupt because of me, can I?"
Yusaku Kudo leaned in toward Shuichi, lowering his voice. "...Something isn't right."
"You mean Master Kisaragi?" Shuichi responded softly, his eyes never leaving the artist.
"You noticed it too?" Yusaku adjusted his glasses. "His attitude shifted far too quickly. Just a moment ago, he treated that painting as his most precious treasure—he was even willing to charge a gunman for it. Now, less than thirty seconds later, he's smiling and consoling Director Ochiai."
"In the gallery, if he hadn't suddenly rushed out, Director Ochiai would have caught the robber," Shuichi said grimly. "And when Chikage tried to sneak up from behind, the robber noticed her without even turning around. That's a bit too much of a coincidence, don't you think?"
The two men's gazes met, both reading the same suspicion in the other's eyes.
Nearby, Master Kisaragi continued to comfort the Director, his gentle smile appearing increasingly unsettling.
"Shuichi, something felt weird back there. I—"
Chikage Tomizawa walked over, but Shuichi cut her off before she could continue.
"You don't need to say it. I already know."
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