-----
-----
"Steven agreed to join the Organization, but… mm… ah…"
Vermouth's broken voice came through the phone.
Faintly, there even seemed to be the sound of clapping in the background.
"That kid knows what's good for him. What are you doing? Your breathing's loud enough to blow out my eardrums."
Gin frowned, clearly curious.
"Doing yoga. Since when did Lord Gin, with his permanent scowl, start caring about my private life?"
"Delusional woman. Something's wrong with your voice."
Hearing the tremor in her tone, as if she were enduring some kind of pain, Gin grew suspicious.
"What's wrong with it? I'm not finished yet."
"Although Steven agreed to join, he specifically wants to be partnered with me, and also… ah!"
Vermouth suddenly let out a scream. The line went dead.
Something was very wrong.
Gin's heart tightened. He suspected Vermouth had run into serious trouble.
Just as he was about to probe cautiously, a familiar voice came through the phone again.
"And the Organization must not monitor his movements. He also gets to choose whether or not to accept missions. His daily expenses and operational funds are triple everyone else's."
Vermouth weakly added a couple more lines. She sounded utterly drained.
"All negotiable. Arrange a meeting with him."
Gin's eyes turned sharp and cold.
The last person who dared make demands of the Organization had weeds three meters tall growing on his grave.
And Steven's terms weren't those of a subordinate. He was clearly here to live like a pampered lord.
As Gin finished speaking, a man's voice came from the phone.
"Gin, I'd like to meet you too. You pick the time and place."
"Let me warn you. Don't even think about my bomb tech. That's my exclusive property. And don't try your usual strong-arm methods. I'll make sure you die ugly."
"That's all. I'm busy."
Beep beep beep.
Gin stared at the disconnected phone, a sinister smile tugging at his lips.
"Arrogant youth. You haven't tasted how cruel society can be. I hope your strength matches that mouth of yours."
"Boss, should we just go kill Steven now?"
Seeing this, Vodka helpfully offered a suggestion.
"What we need is his bomb-making technology. For now, let him keep his worthless life."
"The next target is in Okinawa. We need to deal with it fast."
…
Late at night, a certain five-star hotel.
A cigarette after sex felt better than becoming a god.
Steven leaned back slightly and blew a perfect smoke ring. He looked at the limp Vermouth beside him, and his fighting spirit immediately reignited.
A fierce horse was best conquered in one go. That way you could ride it freely later.
"I give up. Don't do it again, okay?"
Vermouth struggled to sit up, clutching her sensitive areas tightly with both hands.
When she touched the sweat and sticky fluids, her emotions turned complicated.
So many years, and she'd never imagined she'd fall to a guy barely in his twenties.
"What? You were screaming your head off just now. Had your fun and now you're turning cold?"
Steven flicked off some ash and casually dragged Vermouth back toward him.
"Woman, remember this. Whether it continues or not isn't up to you. It depends on whether I'm interested."
After crossing into the Detective Conan world, the first woman he took down was the stunning Vermouth.
Totally unexpected. Pure luck.
In the original storyline, there were plenty of top-tier beauties too. Jodie Starling, Yoko Okino, Eri Kisaki, Kazuha Toyama, Miwako Sato, and so on.
Too many to count. Seriously, impossible to count.
For the sake of his future happiness, Steven silently vowed to stay healthy and keep his weapon well maintained, always ready for action.
----
"Are you trying to get me killed? Fine, come on. I know there's no escaping you anyway."
Vermouth knew she was no match for Steven. She stopped struggling altogether, put on a stiff face, and sprawled flat on the bed.
After hours of nonstop fighting, she was completely drained.
"With a top-tier ride like you, how could I bear to kill you so easily?" Steven said lazily. "Letting you live isn't impossible. But you have to help me get Yukiko Kudo back to this country."
His interest faded the moment the words left his mouth. He suddenly remembered the vow he'd made in the detention center.
A man had to keep his word.
He'd said he'd become Conan's bargain-bin godfather and steal away the girl he loved most. If he said it, he had to do it.
Mouri Ran lived in Japan anyway, so there was no rush there.
But Yukiko had gone to America with Kudo Yusaku. Figuring out how to bring her back to Japan was the real headache right now.
"Hmph. I thought you'd be willing to go all the way," Vermouth said.
After a long drought, she'd finally found rain. Steven's overwhelming strength had completely won her over, and somewhere deep down, unfamiliar feelings had started to take root.
"There's a film and opera festival coming up in Okinawa," she continued. "The musical Golden Apple was supposed to premiere last year, but it got canceled because of you. It was postponed for a year. I doubt Yukiko Kudo would miss it."
Golden Apple?
Steven leaned against the bed, his thoughts a mess.
He remembered something like that from the Detective Conan storyline.
Timeline-wise, it should have been about a year ago, when Kudo Shinichi and Mouri Ran were invited by Yukiko to visit New York and planned to see the Broadway musical Golden Apple.
And at the end of it all, Ran even saved Vermouth's life.
"Wait, let me get this straight," Steven said. "The show was canceled because of me? What does that have to do with me?"
His head was full of question marks.
He'd only been in the Conan world for three months. There was no way he could've affected events from a year ago.
"Are you really that clueless, or are you pretending you forgot?" Vermouth said coldly. "Take a look. A year ago, you killed more than ten people in a row. The whole city panicked. Under pressure, the New York government banned all large-scale performances and celebrations. That included last year's shows."
She pulled up news articles on her phone and handed it to him.
Damn it.
He'd been screwed by the system again.
After reading the reports, Steven wanted nothing more than to slap the system twice across the face.
The identity it gave him was a serial killer, and the victims even included New York judges and police officers.
That damn system had clearly done it on purpose, just to watch him get chased all over the world by the FBI.
From Steven's perspective, there was only one explanation. To make his identity more "real," the system had quietly tweaked the original plot, delaying related events by a year and even changing locations.
Like adding a new character to a game. The entire storyline inevitably shifted.
What worried him was the butterfly effect. If the Conan world's plot got completely derailed, his advantage of knowing the script would be gone.
"That's it? I thought it was something serious," he said casually.
"Call Yukiko and feel her out."
If you're already here, deal with it.
Steven acted completely unfazed as he tossed the phone to Vermouth.
"All set," she said a moment later, hanging up. "Yukiko Kudo is already in Okinawa."
"....."