Right now, Yukiko Kudo's biggest worry was that her son—who wasn't exactly a powerhouse even when he wasn't stuck in miniature form—might run into real danger while running around like a headless chicken.
That reckless brat of hers, always playing the hero... If he truly thought he was being hunted, she doubted he'd ask for help, even if things went south. The whole point of this little stunt was just to mess with him a bit and warn him that going up against a massive criminal syndicate alone was suicide. The plan was to scare him into leaving Japan.
But if something really did happen to him...
Yukiko anxiously waited for her husband on the other end of the call to come up with a new plan. Frustrated, she raked a hand through her hair and looked up to check the street again.
And then, just as she lifted her gaze, she saw it—her pint-sized son, who'd been missing from sight for a while, suddenly came tumbling out of the second-floor room of their house and crashed onto the balcony. He scrambled up, reaching for the railing with clear intent: he was going to vault right over and jump off the second floor.
His little hands had barely gripped the rail when a dark figure stepped out of the pitch-black room behind him. With a casual motion, the man reached out and seized the boy's slender neck.
"!"
Yukiko jolted. The man was dressed head to toe in black, the hood of his jacket casting a shadow over most of his face. One hand clamped around her son's neck, he dragged the small boy back into the darkness without a sound, not even giving him a chance to cry out.
Forget plans—Yukiko screamed into the phone: "Get over here now! It's an emergency! Yusaku, there's a man in black in our house—he's got Shinichi!"
The thought of that organization, the real threat looming over their son, made her hands tremble as she bolted toward the front door. As a result, the two people eavesdropping on the phone call only caught indistinct fragments of her panicked voice.
The man in black, of course, was Karasawa.
After yanking Conan back, he took his "hostage" down to the first floor and began setting up a rudimentary trap at the front door.
This slightly morally questionable ambush plan was half Conan's idea and half Karasawa's.
Karasawa understood precisely what it would take to genuinely spook the prankster couple. So when Conan floated several options like "report it to the police ahead of time," "play along with their scheme," or "lie in wait for a counterattack," Karasawa offered a sharp, strategic addition:
"If they're going out of their way to disguise themselves and take you away instead of just killing you, then you clearly hold some value to them. You're not a target for immediate elimination. So why don't we pretend someone else is trying to get to you first—trying to kill you before they can make their move? That would force them to break cover and act fast."
It sounded so rational. So full of justice. And Karasawa's tone carried such gravity that, after weighing the odds, Conan—who already had a gambler's streak—opted to run with it.
Yukiko was dying to kick open the door and check on her son, but she knew full well she wasn't exactly a combat-ready character. If she charged in alone, she might just end up as a buy-one-get-one hostage deal. So she could only stomp her feet in frustration outside, waiting for her husband to arrive.
Yusaku Kudo, meanwhile, had already thrown on his "Baron of the Night" getup: black cloak, comically sinister smiling mask, full villain cosplay. He hadn't been far behind ever since Conan bailed from Yukiko's car. Driving toward the house, he was preparing to rendezvous with his wife—who was supposed to sedate their son and whisk him away.
Because let's be real, the way she looked? She was two seconds from getting reported as a child abductor. Yusaku was worried she'd end up cuffed before she could even get their kid into the car.
But then… things spiraled wildly out of control.
He pressed the gas pedal harder, frowning as he drove. Something was wrong. The Organization wasn't supposed to target Shinichi this early. Why would he be under attack now?
Could it be they'd come to verify whether the boy was actually dead—only to bump into him after he'd retreated home?
Heart pounding, Yusaku slammed his car into a haphazard stop right in front of the house, dashed out, and joined his sweating wife to open the front door.
The Kudo home had gardens at both front and back. Everything was eerily still. Yusaku carefully surveyed the area, quickly deducing that someone had indeed entered from the back.
Judging by the window left ajar at the side, the intruders were few—one or two people, tops—and they hadn't left much of a trace.
Nodding to his wife, Yusaku watched as Yukiko unlocked the door with her key and pushed it open.
The first floor was pitch dark. All the curtains had been drawn shut. Yusaku didn't dare turn on the lights—the attackers might not know anyone had returned yet, and he didn't want to tip them off.
With that thought, he stepped cautiously into the house.
He passed the entryway and was just about to step into the living room when—pain shot through his ankle.
Damn it—piano wire!
As someone who'd cracked more than a few cases involving that very trap, Yusaku knew what it was the moment it caught him. But alas, his combat stats were only marginally better than Conan's. Even with his brain working at lightning speed, he couldn't regain his balance in time and went sprawling to the floor.
"Karasawa!" Conan shouted the moment the trap was triggered. With a swift motion, he activated his high-tech sneakers and launched a charged-up kick at the soccer ball lying in wait.
The ball ricocheted off the entryway wall and nailed Yukiko—who had been walking right behind Yusaku—squarely in the back. She let out a shriek and toppled to the floor as well.
At the same moment, Karasawa leapt from behind the sofa and tackled the off-balance Yusaku. He twisted, pivoted, and slammed the man to the ground.
Straddling Yusaku's back with a knee, Karasawa grabbed both his arms and yanked them back. Yusaku, a long-retired scholar with zero muscle memory, yelped in agony and went completely limp.
"I've got this one! Conan! Tranquilizer dart!" Karasawa shouted with theatrical flair, even as he eased up on the pressure ever so slightly.
"Stop! Stop! It's me! It's Dad! Shinichi, stop!" Yusaku screamed the moment he spotted his son emerging from behind the table, hand poised to fire his wristwatch tranquilizer.
Conan froze mid-action, adrenaline still spiking from the success of his ambush.
Karasawa, catching on, let go immediately and looked up at Conan, bewildered.
"Click." Yukiko, groaning as she pushed herself off the floor and rubbed her back, finally managed to switch on the lights.
The scene froze for a moment.
Conan stormed over and yanked the mask off the man on the ground.
Sure enough, beneath the absurd smiley face was his father's very real, very sweaty face contorted in pain.
"Dad?! What the—" Conan smacked a hand to his forehead.
And that woman...
He turned to the disheveled figure struggling to her feet. She ripped off the oversized hood, letting her voluminous wavy hair tumble free, revealing Yukiko's unmistakable, glamorous face.
"You two!" Conan groaned, pressing a hand to his brow and giving his dad a half-lidded glare. "This was your idea again, wasn't it?!"
It didn't take a genius to figure it out. His parents must've caught wind of his condition and flown back to mess with him.
Karasawa, innocent as a lamb, pulled back his hood and blinked at him with wide, confused eyes.
Conan glanced at the heap that was his parents—still groaning on the ground from their respective beatings—and didn't even know where to begin explaining things to Karasawa, who had only been trying to help.
He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, then rolled his eyes.
"…Forget it, Karasawa. Let's just call the cops and have them hauled off."