Dinner that night was unusually quiet.
Conan Edogawa poked listlessly at his rice, clearly distracted.
Even though he was trying to act normal, the gloom on his face gave him away completely.His mind was still stuck on the roller coaster murder—the one he couldn't investigate, not like this.
He had a child's body now. No police badge, no authority, no freedom to move.Even if he made it to the scene, he wouldn't be able to get close to the evidence.
For someone who'd always relied on logic and action, that helplessness was unbearable.
"Conan, is the food not to your taste?" Ran asked softly, noticing the way he was just staring at his plate.
"N-No! It's really good!" he said quickly, forcing a smile before shoveling rice into his mouth in exaggerated bites.
Across the table, Ren Kuroda leaned back and said casually, "He's just sulking because he saw the news earlier—about that murder at Tropical Land. The same guy I beat up before, apparently. Lost his head on the roller coaster, literally."
He paused for effect, his tone as dry as ever. "Guess curiosity got the better of him. He wanted me to take him there. I refused."
"Eh? A headless corpse?!" Ran went pale. She turned to Conan with wide eyes. "Why would you even want to see something like that? You're just like Shinichi—always so curious about creepy murder cases."
Ren chuckled. "Why do you think he volunteered to be a detective's assistant?"
"…"
Conan flinched. He'd forgotten—he wasn't supposed to sound too much like himself.Before he could think of a distraction—
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it." Ran stood and went to the door. When she opened it, she was greeted by a woman dressed from head to toe in disguise—wide hat, large sunglasses, and a medical mask.
"Um, sorry," Ran said politely. "My father isn't home right now…"
She trailed off awkwardly, unwilling to admit he was actually passed out in the bedroom from too much sake.
"I see…" The woman's voice was tinged with disappointment.
Ren walked over calmly. "If you don't mind, I can help you instead."
"You are…?" she asked warily.
"I'm a friend of Kudo Shinichi's," Ren said, showing her his phone. On the screen was a photo of him with Shinichi, Ran, and Sonoko. "If I can't solve it, I'll ask him to step in."
The woman relaxed immediately. "In that case, that would be wonderful."
"Please, have a seat," Ren said, gesturing toward the couch. Then he glanced at Conan. "Tea, if you would."
Ran didn't object. After all, she'd seen Ren's reasoning skills firsthand during the Chairman's Daughter Kidnapping Case.Compared to her father, he was—well, infinitely more reliable.
Conan obediently poured tea for the guest, then sat beside Ren, adopting his "assistant" demeanor.
The woman slowly removed her hat, mask, and sunglasses—revealing her face.
Ran gasped. "Eh? You're—Yoko Okino?!"
Conan's eyes went wide too. "The Yoko Okino?!"
"Yes…" The pop idol nodded nervously. "Please, you have to keep this a secret!"
"Of course," Ren said evenly, completely unsurprised—he'd already guessed who she was the moment she walked in. "What's been happening, Miss Okino?"
Yoko clasped her hands tightly, her voice trembling. "I think someone's been sneaking into my apartment. My things keep moving around. Someone's touching my stuff."
Ran gasped. "That's awful! It must be one of those obsessed stalker fans!"
"I… I think so too," Yoko admitted.
But Ren's expression didn't change. He tilted his head slightly. "I have to ask—why come to this detective agency? Someone of your stature could hire any major firm in Tokyo."
That question made both Ran and Conan look up. He wasn't wrong—the Mouri Detective Agency wasn't exactly top-tier.
Yoko flushed, looking embarrassed. "Well… I saw the news about Detective Mouri's bravery on the shinkansen and thought he must be reliable…"
Ren kept staring. His silence made her squirm.
After a pause, she lowered her head, mumbling, "And also… I don't really have much money."
Ren blinked. Then it clicked.
He'd forgotten how brutal the idol industry was here in Japan.
Tens of thousands of underground idol groups fighting for attention every year, all locked into slave contracts.Even those who made it big were bled dry by their agencies—training fees, costume fees, "beauty maintenance" fees, it never ended.
Most idols, even the famous ones, barely saw a fraction of what they earned.Until they renegotiated a new contract, they were practically broke.
Ren nodded sympathetically. "That's fine. Detective Mouri's actually a big fan of yours," he said, gesturing to the wall where a large Yoko Okino poster hung proudly. "You can pay in merchandise—autographed photos, albums, concert tickets, that sort of thing."
Yoko let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you."
After a brief discussion, Ren stood and said, "We'll need to take a look at your apartment to understand what's going on."
"All right." Yoko nodded.
A taxi ride later, they arrived at Yoko's apartment complex.They took the elevator up to her floor, and she unlocked her door after checking the hallway nervously.
Ren immediately noticed what wasn't there.The apartment's air was still and quiet—not hot and heavy like the scene from the "original" version of this case.
Which meant there was no corpse here.Her ex-boyfriend Fujie Akira hadn't acted yet.
She'd come for help earlier than expected.
"Huh?! It's different again!"
Yoko's startled voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was staring at the sofa. "The pillow—it was on the other side this morning! Someone moved it!"
She pointed to a decorative ornament on the shelf. "And that too! I know I left it on the cabinet, not on the table!"
Her hands trembled. "Someone's definitely been here!"
Conan's eyes gleamed with focus. He forgot himself completely as he stepped forward, his voice sharp and confident.
"You're right, Miss Okino. Someone's been searching your place."
He crouched beside the door and examined the lock. "But there are no scratches—so they used a key."
"That means," he said firmly, "the intruder is someone close to you—someone who has access to your key!"
All eyes turned toward him.
"…What? Did I say something wrong?" Conan asked, blinking.
Ren clapped his hands slowly. "Not wrong. Too right. That analysis was just like Shinichi's—straight to the heart of it."
"Yeah," Ran said in amazement. "Conan-kun, you're even sharper than my dad!"
"…"
Conan froze, every muscle in his tiny body stiff. Crap.
He forced a nervous laugh. "Ahaha… I, uh, watch a lot of detective shows. Guess I picked up a few things!"
Ren smiled, giving him an easy out. "Nicely done. That's the kind of thinking a real assistant should have."
Then he turned back to Yoko. "All right, Miss Okino. Given your situation, I suggest two possible approaches.Option one: call the police.Option two: install hidden cameras."
"Install cameras!" Yoko said instantly. "I don't want this to become a big scandal—it'd ruin my image."
"Fair enough. Let's find the best places to set them up. Where do you want them installed?"
Encouraged, Yoko began pointing out several locations around the room.
Conan, now wisely keeping quiet, let out a small sigh of relief.
He silently promised himself to be more careful next time—one slip, and the whole act could fall apart.
Thankfully, no one seemed suspicious.
That was close, he thought, watching Ren and Yoko plan the setup.
If anyone ever found out who he really was, things would get a lot more complicated.