The atmosphere in the living room had settled.
Not relaxed—
But controlled.
Keith stood up slowly, his expression calm but unmistakably serious.
"There's one more thing," he said.
Everyone instinctively focused.
Keith's gaze moved across the room.
"None of you," he said evenly,
"are to go anywhere near Yusaku Kudo or Shinichi Kudo."
Confusion spread instantly.
"…What?" Hidemi blinked.
Ethan frowned.
"Why avoid them now?"
Even Renya raised an eyebrow.
Keith didn't explain immediately.
Instead, he said calmly:
"They have bad luck."
Silence.
"…Bad luck?" Jodie repeated.
Keith nodded.
"Extreme," he added.
"Anyone who stays close to them long enough will either—"
"die,"
"or lose everything they own."
The room went still.
Rum narrowed his eye.
"…You're serious."
"Yes," Keith replied without hesitation.
Renya leaned forward slightly.
"Explain."
Keith exhaled slowly.
"Yusaku Kudo solves cases," Keith said.
"But many of them—"
He paused.
"…should never have been solvable."
Vermouth's expression changed subtly.
Keith continued.
"Crimes that should've stayed buried."
"People who should've lived."
"The result," Keith said calmly,
"is fate correcting itself."
Silence deepened.
"Anyone connected," Keith continued,
"gets dragged into the backlash."
Jodie swallowed hard.
"…So that's why…"
Keith nodded.
"I'm not saying they're evil," he said.
"I'm saying fate hates them."
Renya let out a low chuckle.
"…A walking calamity."
Everyone silently made a note.
Do not approach the Kudos.
Keith then turned to Vermouth.
"You have another identity," he said casually.
"Besides Chris Vineyard."
Vermouth raised an eyebrow.
"…Sharon Vineyard."
"In one or two months," Keith said,
"announce that Sharon Vineyard is dead."
Vermouth frowned slightly.
"…Why?"
Keith didn't answer.
Instead—
He looked at Jodie.
Jodie stiffened.
"…Aunt Sharon," she said carefully,
"the FBI already suspects you."
"They believe Sharon Vineyard and Vermouth are the same person."
Vermouth's eyes sharpened.
Then—
She smiled.
"…I see."
She nodded once.
"I'll do it."
Keith didn't comment further.
The matter was settled.
Then—
Keith looked at Renya.
"…Have you eaten yet?"
Renya blinked.
The sudden shift caught everyone off guard.
"…No," Renya replied slowly.
Keith nodded.
"I'll cook."
Before anyone could object—
He turned and walked toward the kitchen.
The others exchanged looks.
"…He just decided global strategy," Akemi muttered.
"And now he's cooking?"
Kitchen — One Hour Later
The scent alone was overwhelming.
Chinese stir-fries.
Mexican dishes rich with spice.
Japanese cuisine refined and precise.
Keith moved calmly, efficiently—
Great Sage calculating heat, timing, balance.
No wasted motion.
No wasted flavor.
When the dishes were placed on the table—
Silence followed.
Then—
Rum took a bite.
Paused.
"…Again."
Renya tasted next.
Then nodded.
"…This is dangerous."
Vermouth closed her eyes briefly.
"…He really is unfair."
Shiho analyzed the texture.
Akemi smiled in disbelief.
Hidemi ate happily.
Curaçao quietly went for seconds.
Jodie laughed softly.
They ate—
Not as operatives.
Not as weapons.
But as family.
When dinner ended, they slowly departed one by one.
The mansion grew quiet again.
Renya watched Keith from a distance.
A boy who could cut space.
Rewrite identities.
Manipulate fate.
And cook like this.
"…The world really doesn't know," Renya murmured.
Keith looked out the window, expression calm.
"They don't need to," he replied.
Outside—
Yusaku Kudo continued writing.
Shinichi Kudo continued solving cases.
Unaware—
That even monsters
had decided to keep their distance.