Suzuki Sonoko glanced between Conan and Ran Mouri, who both looked like they were trying to process a data overload. Then to Amuro Toru, who was frowning like a man deep in spy-thoughts. Finally, she looked at Jiangxia Tongzhi—who seemed completely out of it—and then back to the mysterious woman standing before them.
She hesitated. "…You, uh… how are you?"
Sonoko had been well-behaved on the Shinkansen—no wandering, no chasing hot guys—so she'd missed out on the thrilling drama involving "Anonymous." Because of that, she didn't recognize the woman in front of her as the legendary "jumping martyr" from that day.
Still, her instincts were screaming that something was off. Ran and Conan practically had exclamation marks floating above their heads. Even Jiangxia's boss looked unusually tense, his eyes sharper than usual.
Only Jiangxia himself seemed unaffected… Actually, no, not quite. He wasn't acting normal either. His whole vibe was slower than usual, eyes dull, like a phone stuck in low battery mode. But that probably had nothing to do with Anonymous—he'd been weirdly sleepy since yesterday, only perking up for a short burst when they first met up.
As Sonoko tried to talk to the stranger, Amuro Toru watched carefully, full security-cadre mode activated.
As an elite intelligence officer, of course he knew what had happened on the Shinkansen. The fact that Gin failed to silence someone was practically urban legend material. Thankfully, the person involved wasn't high-value; once arrested, they couldn't provide much info, so the Organization hadn't suffered a major loss.
Still, Tokyo's black-clad grapevine was buzzing. Even gossip had procedures—investigations were ongoing. The boss still trusted Gin's ability, so naturally, this incident was being treated as a big deal.
A bunch of intelligence agents had been sent out, but none came back with anything useful. Sure, it was easy to find the girl who took the bomb. But past that? A dead end.
There were some sketchy black-market reports of Anonymous popping up, but those identities turned out to be fakes too.
Amuro tried going through the police system, but even that only led to a few anonymous reports—no solid identity, no leads.
Still, from what he could glean, this woman didn't seem like your average Organization member—she liked money but didn't like hurting innocent people. That already made her way nicer than most of his former coworkers.
So eventually, Amuro gave up chasing shadows. And honestly, without clues, there was no way to investigate further.
He certainly hadn't expected to randomly bump into that mysterious woman—whom both the police and the Organization had failed to track down—while on a trip with his apprentice. And to top it off, she was the one who approached them.
Amuro couldn't help but glance at Jiangxia. With the sheer number of murder cases this kid kept stumbling into, he was starting to suspect Jiangxia really did have some kind of murder magnetism… like a human shikigami for corpses.
He recalled the blurry passenger-taken photos of Anonymous—she'd looked a little like Miyano Akemi. But seeing her now, in person, that illusion shattered. Miyano Akemi was definitely dead. This woman wasn't her. Not even close.
Putting aside that weird déjà vu, Amuro tried striking up a conversation, hoping to draw out some intel.
No dice. Anonymous treated everyone like background furniture—except for Sonoko.
Sonoko, who was now turning a bit red under the woman's unwavering stare.
Is she… is she checking me out? Sonoko wondered, suddenly unsure of the whole "hot guy hunting" plan for today. She'd come to chase men, not… well, whatever this was.
Still… she peeked at the beautiful stranger again. Not bad… actually, really not bad… Maybe this could work?
Blushing, Sonoko shyly raised her hand, about to say something—
Anonymous interrupted her, speaking in a soft, almost conspiratorial tone: "Have you heard the rumor?"
Sonoko blinked. "Huh?"
Anonymous gave a slight smirk. "A year ago, on the way to that seaside restaurant—" she pointed up toward a fancy-looking spot on the hill, "—a young woman with dyed hair was robbed and murdered. Twenty-seven stab wounds to the stomach. Her insides were completely spilled out."
Sonoko's face froze.
Anonymous continued, unbothered. "The case is still unsolved. And the spirit of the dead woman still lingers here. They say that if another dyed-hair girl brings a camera up to that restaurant to take a picture, the photo will show her dying the same horrible death."
"!!" Ran Mouri practically levitated in fright and immediately ducked behind Jiangxia and Sonoko like they were human shields.
Amuro frowned. Seriously? This is where we're going with this? Supernatural fear-mongering?
He stepped in, trying to break the creepy atmosphere Anonymous was weaving. "Ghosts aren't real. Those so-called 'spiritual photos' online are just fakes—Photoshop."
Anonymous waved off his logic like a fly. "That's not the point." She looked back at Sonoko. "The point is—you're being watched."
Sonoko gulped hard. "Wh-what?!"
Just then, two random passersby walked by behind them.
Passerby A, clearly hyped: "Did you hear? They found something next to the tram line."
Passerby B, who had obviously been living under a rock: "What thing?"
"A corpse! A corpse!" Passerby A whispered dramatically. "A shredded corpse! A woman with dyed hair!"
Amuro and Conan: "…"
Both stared blankly at the passersby. Wait, did Anonymous hire those guys as extras?
Jiangxia, currently operating his puppet-mode consciousness, glanced over too. No way… These randos were way too on point.
Of course, Jiangxia hadn't hired anyone. This was just another one of those absurd coincidences that his European Emperor luck seemed to summon out of nowhere. But wow—the timing was suspiciously perfect.
Too perfect.
A bit fake.
And yet—real.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 23/50(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS*
Glossary
European Emperor – A slang term for someone with ridiculously good luck, especially improbable luck.
Innocent ___ – A phrase format used to exaggerate someone's innocence or naiveté for comedic effect, e.g., "innocent Sonoko."