Just now, Conan had darted off so suddenly that Ran Mouri barely had time to react. She could only watch helplessly as he ran after two salaryman-looking guys, clearly about to jump off the train with them.
Ran panicked. If she didn't catch him in time, Conan could be stranded alone on the platform—small child, big trouble, do the math.
Thankfully, a helpful passerby intervened.
Ran bowed in gratitude—then looked up and saw the woman's face under the brim of her hat.
She froze. The tattoo caught her off guard.
It was the first time she'd seen someone with a tattoo on their face. But somehow, it didn't take away from the woman's beauty at all…
The mysterious helper didn't linger. She turned calmly, walked into the next car, and vanished behind the door.
Ran watched her go, full of gratitude.
At that moment, she suddenly felt her hand go light. When she looked down, Conan had somehow wriggled free again and bolted off.
"…What's with this kid today? First time riding the train and he's this excited?"
Ran sighed and had no choice but to keep chasing after him through the cars.
…
After Ran left, Conan slipped out from behind the curtain by the washstand and sprinted toward the staff area—he had to inform the conductor about the situation, immediately. There was a bomb. This was not a drill.
Just now, because the woman had been dressed in black, Conan had briefly suspected she might be part of the Black Organization.
But after calming down a bit, he ruled that out.
—According to the train schedule, the Shinkansen wouldn't make any stops before the explosion time Gin had set.
If she really was with them, why would she stay on a train set to blow up?
That made Conan think of a new plan:
If the train staff were useless, maybe he could team up with Anonymous.
Anonymous wasn't like Jangxia. She didn't know Kudo Shinichi or Conan, so it'd be harder to connect the dots between his two identities.
In other words, the "smaller" situation wouldn't be exposed so easily. At most, Anonymous would just assume he was a particularly sharp elementary schooler.
That way, he didn't have to explain the Black Organization, and no one else would accidentally get added to the organization's silencing list…
…
Meanwhile, after disappearing from Ran and Conan's view, Jangxia had holed up in the bathroom to switch into a different puppet form—a "child vest."
This one had its identifying mark printed on the neck, which could be covered with clothing. Much more discreet than Miyano Akemi's flashy vest.
Jangxia had way more shikigami now than when he first used the Little White Puppet, so the wardrobe options had expanded significantly.
He tweaked the outfit a bit, wrapped a scarf around his neck to conceal the pattern, and strolled back into the main car.
Only a few steps in, he bumped into Conan, who was still running around like a headless chicken.
As they passed, Conan gave him a suspicious look. Another random kid running loose on the train? But he had more urgent things to worry about—namely, the bomb—so he didn't stop to ask questions.
Jangxia successfully avoided protagonist aggro.
Then he made his way upstairs to the VIP car. After circling around, he quickly found the box hiding the bomb.
Once he confirmed the location, he switched back to the Miyano Akemi puppet.
He had the puppet walk through several train cars, brushing past guests left and right, before finally tracking down a train attendant.
"Excuse me," he said, "there's a bomb on this train."
The train attendant didn't even blink before laughing. "Let me guess, that kid with glasses told you this? He watches too much TV…"
"The second floor of Car No. 7," Anonymous cut in, her voice soft and floaty. "Fourth row on the right. The short-haired woman with the briefcase."
She tilted her head. "The bomb's in that bag. It could go off at any time. You should probably check it soon."
The train attendants froze, stunned by the unnervingly specific info.
One bolted to find the conductor. The other stayed behind to gather more details—and to record the whistleblower's name.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Anonymous," said Jangxia smoothly.
"Anonymous?" The train attendant raised an eyebrow. Weird name, but hey, Japan had some oddball surnames. He shrugged and wrote it down.
He looked up again to ask another question—only to realize the room was now completely empty.
"…Where'd the whistleblower go?"
…
Jangxia had already circled back to Car No. 7—the bomb zone.
He needed to show his face.
Just to make sure that, when the Organization reviewed the footage later, they'd "find" this so-called Anonymous and chase the wrong lead entirely.
As he checked his impression stats, the conductor arrived with a small crew, requesting to inspect the briefcase of the short-haired woman.
She refused.
That briefcase contained classified materials, she said, and required a superior's signature to open. She identified herself as a government official, high-ranking.
Meanwhile, as she stalled for time, she subtly pulled out her phone and messaged the man in black she'd previously met, asking what was going on.
…
At the same time, Conan finally reached the scene, panting from all the running.
He saw the woman lifting her phone, and Gin's earlier words flashed through his mind: "At 3:10, the guy will press the detonation switch unsuspectingly. Ten seconds later, the bomb goes off. That'll be her death."
—So, the bomb wasn't on a timer.
It would go off because the person carrying it would press something at 3:10.
…And what if that action was just "calling a certain number on a cell phone"?
Conan stared at the woman, her finger hovering over the call button. A cold sweat broke out across his back.
This is bad.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 25/50(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS*
Glossary
vest: A puppet form Jangxia "wears"—a kind of alter ego or transformation he switches into using shikigami.
impression value: A measure of how memorable or recognizable someone becomes to others—used here as part of Jangxia's weird meta-game mechanics.