"New guests?" Chu Zihang asked politely, though he recognized both young visitors immediately. Professional courtesy demanded he treat them as strangers until proper introductions were made.
"Oh, you two are here," Gustave called out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel as he spotted the returning interdimensional travelers. "Daigo, Zihang—could you handle the introductions? I'm in the middle of preparing lunch."
"Of course," Chu Zihang replied with characteristic efficiency. "Hello, I'm Chu Zihang."
His introduction was straightforward and unadorned—exactly what anyone familiar with his personality would expect.
"Hello there, little friends! I'm Daigo!" Daigo crouched down to their eye level, reaching out to ruffle Conan's hair with the kind of gentle familiarity adults reserved for children.
Conan and Ai exchanged resigned glances. Their diminutive statures inevitably led to this kind of treatment, no matter how mentally mature they actually were.
"Hello," Conan began carefully. "My name is Kudo Shinichi, and this is Miyano Shiho. We're not actually children—I'm seventeen and she's eighteen. We know how this looks, but please hear us out."
After confirming that the Bamboo Staff existed in a genuinely separate world, both had decided to reveal their true identities. Pretending to be elementary school students was exhausting work, and this otherworldly refuge offered them a rare opportunity to be themselves.
"What?" Daigo stared at them in shock, his hand frozen mid-pat above Conan's head. "You two look six or seven years old at most. How could you be teenagers? Is this some kind of medical condition?"
The genuine concern in his voice was touching, though entirely misplaced.
"We weren't always like this," Ai explained with clinical precision. "We both ingested a special pharmaceutical compound that transformed our adult bodies into child forms."
"A rejuvenation drug?" Daigo's eyes widened with amazement. "That's incredible! Even with all the advanced alien technology I've encountered, I've never heard of anything that could reverse aging like that."
"The compound is designated APTX4869," Ai continued, her scientist's instincts demanding accuracy. "It's actually designed as an untraceable poison—cellular regression is merely a rare side effect with odds of occurring in less than one in ten thousand subjects."
Daigo's expression shifted from wonder to horror. "You mean you both took poison? Why would you do something so dangerous?"
"It wasn't exactly voluntary," Conan said wryly, launching into the complex tale of the Black Organization, their criminal activities, and the circumstances that had led to both his and Ai's transformations.
The story's twists and revelations left Daigo stunned. As a straightforward member of the Defense Team, he'd never encountered criminal conspiracies with such labyrinthine complications.
"I'll just call you Conan and Ai from now on," Daigo decided practically. "Even though we're in different worlds, I might visit yours someday. If I accidentally use your real names, it could put you both in terrible danger."
"That's thoughtful of you," Conan replied, touched by the consideration from someone he'd just met. "I'm used to the name Conan anyway—I haven't been called Kudo Shinichi in months."
"Are you two also from other world like us?" Ai asked, studying Chu Zihang and Daigo with scientific curiosity. Their familiarity with Gustave suggested either native status or long-term residence.
"Yes, we're both otherworld visitors," Daigo confirmed readily. "I'm a member of TPC's Defense Team, and I'm also Ultraman Tiga."
"Defense Team? Ultraman Tiga?" Conan repeated the terms thoughtfully, his detective's mind automatically filing them for analysis.
"TPC is an acronym for Terrestrial Peaceable Consortium, this is an organization dedicated to protecting Earth's safety," Chu Zihang interjected helpfully, seeing Daigo's struggle to explain complex concepts simply. "The Defense Team is their elite combat unit, and you can think of Ultraman Tiga as essentially Superman."
"Thank you, Zihang!" Daigo's relief was obvious. "I was wondering how to explain it without getting too complicated."
"Protecting Earth implies external threats," Conan observed with typical deductive precision. "Are you dealing with alien invasions in your world?"
"Exactly," Daigo nodded approvingly at the quick analysis. "My world faces constant threats from both extraterrestrial beings and gigantic monsters. TPC exists specifically to counter these dangers and protect civilian populations."
Conan felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. Compared to aliens and kaiju, the Black Organization seemed almost manageable. Sure, Beika Town experienced daily murders, occasional shootings, and the odd explosion, but at least they weren't being invaded by cosmic-scale threats.
"I'm a student at Cassel College," Chu Zihang added when the attention turned to him. "It's an institution dedicated to training dragon slayers—individuals with mixed human and dragon heritage who combat primordial draconic threats."
"Dragon slayers? Mixed heritage?" Conan's eyes widened further. First aliens and monsters, now dragons and supernatural bloodlines? Why couldn't he meet someone from a nice, ordinary world for once?
"Indeed. Are you interested in the field?" Chu Zihang asked with subtle amusement, removing his contact lenses to reveal the permanently golden eyes that marked his draconic heritage.
"No thank you," Conan replied hastily, swallowing nervously. "I think my current life is complicated enough."
"Dragons, aliens, monsters," Ai mused thoughtfully. "It all sounds fascinating from a scientific perspective."
"Ai!" Conan stared at his companion in disbelief. "I didn't know you had such dangerous interests!"
"Knowledge is never dangerous, Conan," she replied with characteristic cool logic. "Only its application can be."
"Conan, Ai—your meals are ready!" Gustave announced, emerging from the kitchen with Po to deliver their order to the table.
The two young detectives had requested a simple but satisfying meal: three dishes total, consisting of a main course, soup, and a rice accompaniment.
The main dish was cabbage and pork fried dumplings—comfort food at its finest, with perfectly pleated wrappers encasing savory filling.
The soup was seaweed egg drop soup, its silky ribbons of egg floating in clear, aromatic broth scattered with dark green seaweed.
The final dish was lemon shredded chicken—a vibrant, appetizing creation that showcased Gustave's mastery of Dai ethnic cuisine techniques.
This particular preparation deserved detailed explanation, as it demonstrated the chef's commitment to ingredient sourcing and technique refinement.
Rather than using common commercial white-feathered chickens, Gustave had selected black-boned chickens personally procured from rural farms in Chu Zihang's world. The choice was crucial—black chickens possessed significantly less fat than their commercial counterparts, essential for achieving the dish's characteristic refreshing quality. Excessive fat would have overwhelmed the delicate balance of flavors he sought to create.
Selecting the proper protein was indeed half the battle for this particular dish.
The cooking process began with poaching the processed black chicken in seasoned water, along with scallions, fresh ginger, and aromatic lemongrass. The chicken was done when chopsticks could pierce the meat cleanly with no resistance.
While the protein cooked, Gustave prepared the aromatics and vegetables with meticulous precision. Young ginger, garlic, and fresh chilies were pounded into rough, fragrant pieces that would release their essential oils when mixed. Carrots and onions were julienned into uniform shreds, while cilantro and coriander were chopped into fine pieces that would distribute their bright flavors evenly throughout the dish.
Fresh lemons waited nearby, their bright acidity essential to the dish's success.
Once the chicken reached perfect doneness, Gustave immediately plunged it into ice water—a crucial step that firmed the meat's texture and stopped the cooking process at precisely the right moment.
The cooled chicken was then hand-shredded into delicate strips and combined with all the prepared aromatics in a large mixing bowl. Chili powder added heat, while salt, chicken essence, toasted sesame seeds, and light soy sauce provided depth and complexity.
The final magic happened during the mixing process. As Gustave combined the ingredients, he squeezed fresh lemon juice directly over the mixture, the bright citric acid immediately beginning to cure the proteins while coating every strand of chicken with natural tartness.
Here, his electromagnetic abilities provided subtle enhancement—microcurrents helped the acidic lemon juice penetrate deeper into the chicken fibers than traditional mixing alone could achieve, while gentle electrical fields encouraged the essential oils from the aromatics to bloom more fully.
The result was a sour and spicy appetizer that awakened the palate with its bright complexity—every bite offering layers of heat, tartness, and aromatic intensity that made it perfect for hot weather or as a prelude to richer dishes.
"One lemon shredded chicken, prepared in the traditional Dai style," Gustave announced with quiet pride, setting the vibrant dish before his young guests.
The colors alone were spectacular—bright yellow lemon zest contrasting with deep red chili oil, fresh green herbs scattered throughout like confetti, and tender white chicken providing a neutral canvas for the explosion of flavors.
Both Conan and Ai leaned forward with obvious appreciation, the aromatic complexity making their mouths water in anticipation of their first taste.