"Tsuneo, you're saying?!" Officer Megure exclaimed, the penny dropping as he grasped the key issue.
Exactly!
Whether left- or right-handed, turning to face the wall as the target approached was perfectly natural.
If those traces were left by a right-handed person…
"Exactly," Conan said in Tsuneo's voice, sharing his latest deduction before hanging up.
Haibara, still sporting her cartoon hairpin, kept a close eye on the detective's demeanor.
…
Evening.
Tsuneo returned home, swapped into comfy athletic wear, and drove toward the Suzuki residence.
"Everyone remember today's riddle?"
"Want me to repeat it?"
The quirky radio host's voice crackled through the car, wrapping up her show with another lame joke-riddle, urging listeners to send in letters.
Even with Tsuneo's iron constitution, a second listen sent chills down his spine. He hurriedly switched off the radio.
"How many letters have I sent?"
"Twenty, maybe?"
Tsuneo parked by a convenience store, tossing another letter into the mailbox.
Why's this starting to feel like a scam?
Dr. Agasa had mentioned joining a new online chatroom where someone was buying signed photos of this radio host.
Not a trap, is it?
Just then, two high schoolers emerged from the store.
"Why'd you buy envelopes?"
"You been listening to that radio host lately?"
"The one you said keeps telling bad jokes?"
"Yeah, I saw their promo poster—super hot!"
"Really?"
The envelope-buying kid's face flushed, his voice growing excited but dropping low, barely audible.
Tsuneo watched the two whispering teens walk off, chuckling.
Guess there's always someone who'll fall for it.
Fair enough—the harder something is to get, the more valuable it seems.
No way the host's behind it, though… right?
…
Nine p.m.
Tsuneo, full and content, drove away from the Suzuki residence.
Dinner was a blast.
Old friends Sonoko and Ayako were as warm as ever, constantly checking if he was full.
Mr. Suzuki?
What a guy. Once the topic of martial arts came up, he lit up like a kid.
He rarely got to geek out about fighting at home, so he was all over Tsuneo, chatting enthusiastically and even walking him to his car, reluctant to say goodbye.
As for Mrs. Suzuki…
Tsuneo, ever the gentleman (or so he claimed), could handle any lady.
A certain shrunken high school detective once said of him: "That face and smile of his are way too charming for women of a certain age."
Tsuneo pulled into a riverside parking lot, changing into a new outfit in the car.
Tonight, he needed to stretch his legs.
…
Midnight.
The night was dark, the wind howling.
A hooded figure in black, hands in pockets, slipped into a bar, head low, silently approaching a private booth's door.
"Who the hell are you?!" As the door swung open, a group of shirtless toughs jumped up, faces flushed from booze, shouting arrogantly.
The bar girls, more sober, sensed the vibe shift. Exchanging glances, they slunk to the corners.
In a sleazy place like this, anything could happen. Seasoned pros knew to stay out of trouble.
"I hear you've got good intel," the figure in black said, raising his head to reveal a masked, sunglass-clad face, his voice cold as ice.
"What do you want to know?" a stocky middle-aged man asked, lounging on the sofa like a rock. He waved off his rowdy crew, lit a cigarette, and eyed the figure blocking the door, feigning calm.
No way it's one of his guys.
No way.
Nobody's luck is that bad…
"I hear a strange character's been popping up in Beika Town. I want him," Tsuneo said, leaning against the booth's doorframe, his voice sharp as a blade.
"S-Strange character?" The man blinked, clueless.
"The Wolf of Beika," Tsuneo said flatly.
"Who's that?!" The man tilted his head, a giant question mark on his face.
The Wolf of Beika?
Who the hell is that?!
Sounds like some sleazy nickname.
This is a hub for dark-web intel, not a pet detective agency tracking down lost cats and dogs!
"Find him in three days," Tsuneo said, leaving the consequences unspoken. He knew the man would get the hint.
"Yes, sir!" The man, chilled by Tsuneo's stare, stood up, nodding respectfully, sweat beading on his brow.
"Boss, was that…?" a lackey asked, helping him sit, swallowing hard.
His tone and movements betrayed that he'd guessed the figure's identity.
"Have we done anything bad lately?" the boss asked, wiping cold sweat, turning to his crew.
"We don't do violent stuff, boss."
"Yeah, just fair trades."
"Totally fair."
The boss nodded, exhaling. "Tell everyone to lay low!"
"Three days—no, two! Find that damn Wolf of Beika, tie him up, and bring him to me!"
Tsuneo stepped out of the booth, glancing at a nearby table.
"Hm?"
A tall, fair-skinned woman with wavy hair sat there, dressed in a light-colored business suit, exuding wealth and confidence. High heels, tea-colored sunglasses, a pack of women's cigarettes beside her—she looked like an urban professional unwinding after work.
She scanned the bar's eclectic crowd, her red lips curling into a faint smile as she sipped her iced liquor.
Tsuneo hesitated, then sat across from her.
"Inviting yourself over? Not very gentlemanly," she said, her slender fingers resting on her glass, her smile teasing.
"I'm no gentleman," Tsuneo said, staring at her face.
"Seems you know who I am," she said, lighting a cigarette, propping her chin on her hands, and locking eyes with the tightly wrapped man before her.
"Who wouldn't know the infamous Witch?" Tsuneo replied.
(End of Chapter)
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