Chapter Text
Welcome to the world of Meitantei Conan!
I know you have been waiting with bated breath and excitement, but patience, please. Watch your steps as you take your seats; have your tickets, snacks, and drinks at the ready as we enter in an orderly fashion. Parents, please look after your children; guests, keep a close eye on your personal belongings. Finally, before you depart, please kindly take your refuse with you.
Let us once again thank all the Watchers who have been here today.
We wish you the most pleasant cinematic experience.
For Meitantei, today was just another banal turn of the earth: a murder encountered whilst out and about—the classic "choose one of three." The victim, who harbored a grudge against the proprietress, breathed his last after finishing a single bowl of ramen. The culprit was a server who appeared deceptively innocent and pure. The framed proprietress was a tragic soul, having toiled for over twenty years to scrape together a living, only to see her sterling reputation ruined in an instant.
Fortunately, Conan happened to be passing by; he deftly incapacitated Mouri Kogoro, executed a brilliant deductive pivot, and brought the case to a swift resolution.
"It wasn't my fault! It's all his doing! Who told him to hide his affair with my best friend from me? I gave him a chance to be honest with me... and what happened? He still looked me in the eye and lied in front of me!! He kept insisting he hadn't deceived me, swearing his love was 'unto death do us part'! Well, today I let him know exactly what is 'till death do us apart!"
As the suspect was dragged away, laughing and shrieking like a bedlamite, Conan sighed and resumed his way home as if nothing had happened. Beside him, Mouri Kogoro alternated between gulps of sake and puffs of smoke before kicking open the door to the Mouri Detective Agency. Ran was in the kitchen as usual, preparing dinner, but tonight, the living room held an extra presence.
"I don't know who she is... but she was already waiting downstairs when I got back, should I ask her something?" Ran explained in a hushed tone while untying her apron. Mouri Kogoro, habitually discourteous to uninvited guests who interrupted his mealtime, prepared to dismiss her with a few curt words.
" Just tell her to leave."
Unexpectedly, the stranger composedly slid forward a thick stack of banknotes. The amount was so staggering that even Ran, who had been standing by the door, couldn't help but walk over and pull Conan into a protective embrace.
"This... this is...?"
"This is the retainer. Once the commission is completed, the other half will be yours."
Mouri Kogoro found himself unable to form a coherent sentence. "You... you said... the other half?"
"Precisely." As the client stood, she proved to be exceptionally tall—Conan gauged her at about 175 centimeters. For a Japanese woman, she was strikingly statuesque, with a slender waist and long legs.
A mane of bronze hair cascaded to her waist, complementing skin as pale as snow and azure eyes framed by spectacles. With bold features and a smile that hovered between warmth and cold calculation, she carried herself with an air of constant scrutiny.
Strictly speaking, she was a natural beauty, yet she seemed battered by the harshness of reality. Faint dark circles and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks obscured much of her allure. Upon closer inspection, her frame was gaunt, lacking the graceful curves and elegance of a mature woman—she was dressed in a high school uniform, evidently having rushed here straight from class. It was a mystery where an underage girl had obtained such a vast sum of money.
It was suspicious to the extreme. Mouri Kogoro even began to waver on whether to accept the case, but the girl seemed to pierce right through his hesitation. In a sudden, desperate move, she dropped to her knees and seized Mouri Kogoro's hands with a crushing grip. Startled, he scrambled to pull her up.
"I beg of you! You are my only hope now! Please! Only you can help me! If you refuse, I truly don't know what I'll do!"
Her tears fell like a sudden autumn rain, and Mouri Kogoro, unable to withstand her distress, finally relented. “Alright alright , just calm down first. What exactly has happened?"
"My brother is gone!" The girl remained knelt on the floor, tears tracking down her face drop by drop. "I’ve searched and searched... but I can’t find him anywhere!"
At the mention of a missing person, Mouri Kogoro immediately produced a map, his professional vigor restored. "When was the last time your brother contacted you? Did he say where he was going?"
The girl shook her head frantically, clumsily presenting a meticulously organized timeline to Mouri Kogoro, clearly having consulted many others before him. Conan hopped onto a stool to look. She had indeed approached the police and filed a report, yet a week had passed and her brother still hadn't returned. She got panick.
"I’ll start by searching the area where he was last seen and asking around. Where do you live?" Mouri asked.
The girl looked as though she had found a life raft in a churning sea. "Shizuoka Prefecture. I’ve already sent you the address! I’ll go search for another district." Seeing someone finally willing to help, she looked positively ecstatic. She casually took Conan's hand. "May I borrow this little boy? My brother used to work part-time at the amusement park; having Conan along will make the investigation much easier."
"But but……Dad! Conan is only………."
"Just let him be, you know him, he’ll be fine."
Seeing the girl as both beautiful and kind-hearted—and with that much cash—Mouri Kogoro's guard dropped completely. He was more than happy to be rid of the "brat" for a day. Ten minutes later, Ran and Mouri Kogoro hailed a taxi and departed.
Edogawa Conan's heart grew cold. Sharp as he was, he had already sensed that the stranger harbored weird intent and was certainly no amateur. She had deliberately dispersed the others to leave him alone with her. Conan felt no trepidation; in fact, he preferred it this way—he could deal with this trouble personally and without distraction.
"Conan-kun? Come down, quickly! The bus to Tropical Land is almost here." The girl beckoned to Conan, who was surreptitiously opening his tranquilizer watch. She seemed oblivious to the meaning of his movement, consumed only by a frantic urge to save time. This gave Conan a moment's pause.
Could she not be from the Organization? Or is she leading me to a deserted amusement park at night for a quiet execution?
Nevertheless, Conan followed obediently. However, for some reason, the final bus was packed with a lot of customers. This had never happened before. Conan craned his neck, trying to find space, only to be nearly suffocated by the throng. A powerful force suddenly hoisted him upward; the girl lifted Conan high above the crowd and tucked him into her embrace. Conan curled up like a rag doll in her arms, his ear inadvertently brushing against her uniform... and with his years of "experience," he could confirm with absolute certainty—those were prosthetic breasts.
If she were merely flat-chested, that would be one thing, but this person’s frame was even more skeletal than Sera's. Taking advantage of a sudden lurch as the driver braked, Conan used the momentum to lean further against the girl’s chest, his forehead actually thumping painfully against her hard ribs.
A man in drag... in all the world, there were few who would so brazenly abduct Conan while favoring a feminine disguise. As he was deep in observation and deduction, a hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder. With a sharp swerve, Conan was pulled into a firm, locking embrace. He didn't know whether to be shocked or speechless.
The nighttime Tropical Land was swarming with people; the crowds were relentless. Conan furrowed his brow and remarked casually, "What's the big occasion today? Why are there so many people?"
The girl naturally took Conan's hand, pulling him into the fray. "A weekday, I suppose? Maybe?"
It was indeed a day as ordinary as any other.
"But I heard there’s some kind of cosplay event." The girl pointed toward a poster plastered on the main gate. The plaza of the closed amusement park had been rented out by these enthusiasts, and the atmosphere was raucous. However, Conan immediately realized something was amiss. The rented space was limited to the front plaza, which meant the vast reaches of the park behind them were entirely deserted. Yet, the girl continued inward with a resolute stride.
"Wait ! Onee-chan! Didn't we say we were looking for your brother? Shouldn't we be asking those people? Why are we..."
The girl’s pace grew faster and faster. The air began to thicken with an increasingly heavy, murderous intent—it radiated from the cold, distant amusement rides, from the vending machines humming with 24-hour power, and from the cartoon mascots on the billboards staring with wide eyes and fixed, manic grins.
It also radiated from the girl who, with her face darker than ever, was dragging Conan into the depths with overwhelming force. He had to admit, he was truly panicked now. He struggled to break free, but their hands felt as if they were welded together.
"Oneechan, you’re hurting me... let go... wait…..oi-oi……..you are too fast, my legs hurt, can we rest for a moment?"
"It’s almost time, almost time. Just a little longer, Conan." That sweet, crystalline voice made his scalp prickle with dread.
They finally came to a halt at the boarding area of an attraction. Conan narrowed his eyes and activated the illumination on his watch.
"The Roller Coaster."
It was the very place where he and Ran had once ridden—the place where it all began. Conan opened his mouth to speak, but the chilling mechanical clack of a gun being cocked cut him short.
He looked up to see a dark, hollow muzzle. The girl raised the weapon and fired three consecutive rounds at a nearby sign. Equipped with a suppressor, the shots were merely muffled thuds, but the tendrils of smoke curling from the bullet holes served as a grim testament to Conan: she wasn't joking.
She was dead serious.
"Who... who are you? Are you with the Organization?" Conan knew escape was impossible. Whether it was the Organization or some sick prank, he was in the middle of nowhere. Even if his tracker worked, he would be a corpse by the time reinforcements arrived if she pulled that trigger.
Conan swallowed hard, his throat tight. "What do you want? Why target me? And how do you know my name?"
The girl’s hair was disheveled, and without her glasses, her eyes shimmered with a brilliant, starlit frenzy—a mixture of confusion and tears. She had waited long enough for this moment... today, she would have her reckoning with Conan!
"This isn't a script, Conan-kun. If I pull this trigger, you are a dead man." She spat the words through gritted teeth. Conan was utterly bewildered. "I know that's a real gun, but you are..."
He racked his brain, yet he couldn't recall ever crossing paths with this woman, let alone forming such a bitter grudge.
"You weren't looking for your brother; you were looking for me. But Oneechan, I’m sorry, I don't know you. Can you... can you tell me why?"
If one were to speak of the fear of death, Conan was terrified. However, he believed more in using logic to extricate himself from peril. This woman was clearly unstable, which meant variables existed—variables he could manipulate to find a lifeline.
"Stop acting! Stop pretending to be so calm... Conan. I'll give it to you straight: I brought you here. This isn't a script; it’s not the screenwriter's intent. If I fire now, no one can save you in time. You know better than anyone what today is. Most people have gone home; you're the only one here. Conan... you're just a child. No matter how hard you try to play the role of Meitantei, at the end of the day, you're just a brat."
Conan took a step back. This woman was delusional, raving like a lunatic. Yet, this madwoman was sharper than any criminal he had ever encountered; she seemed intimately familiar with all his "moves." With a few deft movements, she had already confiscated all his gadgets—including the Detective Badge and the tracking glasses he had hoped to use for help.
Her voice carried a nasal thickness, and the corners of her eyes were stained a vivid red, making her look more hauntingly beautiful—and more despairingly desolate—than before.
"Don't lie to me... Conan. In the end, we have a history before, don't we? Don't make me do this... It’s Christmas Eve. You should be going home to reunite with your real parents. Just tell me the truth, and I'll let you go."
For the first time, Conan was stunned into silence. He had faced many criminals with warped values, but never one so mentally fractured. He lacked the experience to handle a literal madwoman. He couldn't find a single word, so he tried to reason with facts: "...Isn't it only the beginning of November?"
"No... it's Christmas Eve. Your parents should be at the door waiting to take you back. Just give me the truth, and I'll give you a way out."
Looking up, Conan appeared small and helpless before the tall girl. Their shadows stretched long and thin, like nocturnal phantoms. She raised the muzzle, her manic smile vanishing, replaced instantly by a void of expression—as if she were wearing a Poker Face. Her smile had become too peaceful. Conan had never felt a terror quite like this; every cell in his body was screaming at him to flee this godforsaken place.
"Tell me how to get out of this hell." She yelled.
One step, two steps... Conan had nowhere left to retreat. He was forced to stare directly into those eyes that shone with an eerie intensity in the dark.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Am I truly going to die here?
"Don't think I won't shoot!" she roared. "I’ll count to three... two..."
Conan closed his eyes, resigning himself to fate.
BANG!
The anticipated pain never came. Instead, he fell into a hard, solid embrace. When he opened his eyes again, the air was filled with a cascade of rose petals fluttering in the dark. The girl’s lithe body slumped in front of him, her upper half clinging tightly to him. The breath against his neck was hot and damp, but the voice was entirely different.
"Meitantei... thank god... thank god..." Conan could only hear the soft murmur against his ear, and the embrace tightened, nearly crushing his ribs. He rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
"Thank god... you’re real, just like me... that’s all that matters..."
Conan and KID boarded the roller coaster. KID, with red-rimmed eyes and a vivid, blood-red handprint blooming on his cheek, had lost all of his previous hysteria. He was back to his real face, grinning as he hiked up his uniform skirt to climb the iron ladder of the platform.
KID gestured for Conan to take a seat first while he went to the control room to flip the power. Then, he climbed back down and sat beside Conan, crossing his legs with a brazen lack of "skirt-wearing" decorum, adopting an attitude of “let them look if they want.”
"What the hell was that fit you threw tonight?" Conan hadn't settled the score yet; he had been genuinely terrified and demanded a rational explanation.
"I just missed you. I wanted to talk to you. Forgive me, Meitantei—I was forced to resort to such desperate measures."
KID pulled off the wig and carefully tucked it under his arm. Conan's fist clenched, veins popping; he was tempted to add another handprint to the man’s face.
"You'd better give me a damn good reason why we can't just talk normally—why it had to be on a roller coaster."
The coaster carrying the two began to move slowly. KID had intentionally set it to "Family Mode," so the speed and thrill were nothing like the usual heart-pounding ride. He looked left and right before finally speaking. "It's only safe to talk here."
Conan suppressed his temper for a long moment before saying, "The police would be overjoyed. It’s a day for national celebration—the brilliant Phantom Thief KID has finally lost his mind."
"I haven't... Meitantei... have you ever heard of The Truman Show?"
Conan knit his brows in a tight furrow. "Of course I know it—it depicts an ordinary man who inadvertently stumbles upon a series of anomalies in his life, only to discover he is living within a grand fabrication, a spectacle for the masses. Have you... have you watched too many films or something? Don't tell me you—dammit, no wonder you were spouting that gibberish earlier!" Conan snapped irritably. "You didn't honestly think I was some actor... merely performing a role alongside you, did you?"
"I didn't 'think' it, Meitantei... and I am not joking. At that moment, I truly believed you were like all the rest. But you’ve proven that you and I are the same."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I assumed you were part of the facade, so I designed that interrogation specifically to test you. If you were a scripted character, being confronted by a lunatic like the one I portrayed—someone acting outside the lines—would have scared the hell out of you. Even the most composed actor would have blurted out the truth to save their own lives. But... you are the first person I've tested. I thought that if I were to find a partner, it would have to be you, though I initially feared even if you were a fake. Think about it, Meitantei... this world we live in. Doesn't it feel like a meticulously crafted screenplay?"
For all his love of banter, Conan knew exactly when to discard the playfulness. He could decipher the truth behind every micro-expression of his long-time rival.
And the KID standing before him now, with brows slightly pinched and lips bitten in thought, was beyond serious.
Conan raised a hand to cut him off just as the roller coaster reached the mouth of a tunnel. "Hold on... why on earth would you have such a delusion?"
"I... I began to notice things were 'off,' the kind of realizations that make your skin crawl upon reflection. Every day is a monotonous loop. Things change, yet the overarching patterns remain identical; we are trapped in the same recurring motifs. Meitantei... for instance, why is it that the majority of homicides involve exactly three suspects? And... we both know that in the real world, 'good' doesn't always win over 'evil,' nor do criminals fall into the net. History is littered with famous cases that took months or years to yield even a sliver of evidence, many ending as cold cases. In a real investigation, clues don't just knock on the police's door. Yet, Meitantei, why is it that not a single villain has ever escaped your grasp?"
"Well, KID... aren't you a living, breathing example right in front of me? And the Organization that shrank my body... though I am closing in on the truth, they remain at large."
"Those people are merely distractions to keep you occupied, to keep you hunting them so you won't have the energy to study and detect the glitches in this world," KID explained.
The coaster plunged through the tunnel, the track growing increasingly rugged and winding. Conan gripped the safety bar in front of him and continued, "If I weren't currently trapped on this coaster forced to endure your absurd conspiracy theories, I’d have called the police by now."
KID stretched his limbs languidly, casually plucking a faux flower that leaned over the tracks. "Well but thank god you are with me now. And you can’t go anywhere else. Meitantei... have you noticed the simplest thing? In this world where human bodies are fragile and breakable, you and I are effectively immortal."
Seeing the stunned expression on Conan's face, KID chuckled and continued, "Upon reflection, there are countless feats defying the laws of physics that you and I accomplish easily, like we can fly or walk on the surface or something. No matter how dire the straits, we always find a way to survive. Meanwhile, the others can lose their life to a stray shard of glass or a falling brick. Yet you and I... we fly out of burning buildings and rescue people underwater for ten minutes straight without changing one breath. I only suspected it at first, but after I fell from the sky last time, it indirectly proved one thing... it was never about 'luck' or being 'hard to kill.' And….There are other things I’ll tell you later. After you believe me." KID paused, "You're so brilliant, Meitantei... why do you think that is?"
Conan's face shifted from bewilderment to sheer shock.
"You asked me earlier why I gave the 'wrong' date? That wasn't a mistake... if my deductions are correct, today is Christmas Eve in 'the other world.' That is precisely why I dared to seek you out at this specific juncture. For one, everyone is rushing home to reunite, so who has time to watch us? And by leading Mouri and the others away, it won't be discovered so quickly. Furthermore... I found that this amusement park is a superlative hiding spot. I don't know if it's the density of the woods or something else, but the signal here is exceptionally weak."
Conan struggled to keep pace with KID's erratic train of thought, but time was of the essence, and KID could only hint at the truth.
"No rush... I know much of this is impossible to accept immediately. I only came today to confirm whether my Meitantei truly stands on the same side of the line as I do."
Having finished his piece, KID rose nimbly. Ignoring the fact that the train was still in motion, he stepped onto the safety railing like a pigeon perched on the top of the branch. His high school uniform vanished in an instant, replaced by his strikingly conspicuous white suit.
"If you figure it out... and you want to find me, send out a heist notice in my name. I’ll meet you wherever the letter says."
The moment the words left his lips, white doves took flight. He left only a cryptic whisper lingering in the air.
"Be careful, Meitantei. They are watching."
Half an hour later, Conan finally managed to walk out through the amusement park's main gate, only to realize his phone was flooded with text messages.
KID that bastard…… jerk, mad mad mad!
KID’s performance had left his mind in a fog. He knit his brows as he saw the string of messages from Ran.
He knew she was only worried; after all, in their eyes, KID was just a client they had met for the first time. However...
"Where are you? Conan!"
"Why aren't you answering my calls?"
"Is your phone off? I'm so worried, please call back immediately! Father and I are on the train. Where are you and the client? Did she give you any more information?"
"Where are you? Have you arrived?"
"Why won't you pick up? Conan! I'm going to ask Shinichi for help!"
"Conan! Where are you? Father and I are both so worried about you."
"Is the signal bad? Why does it go straight to voicemail when I call?"
"Conan, where are you?"
One after another... Conan’s knees went weak. Ordinarily, he would have brushed this off as her usual concern, but KID’s words continued to haunt him.
They are watching you...