A white van full of passengers cruised slowly along the highway.
The vehicle was old, underpowered, and lagging behind every other car—so much so that even freight trucks were overtaking it with ease.
"Damn it, we got passed again!"
Kogoro Mouri, gripping the steering wheel, grumbled irritably.
From the back seat, Conan cracked open one eye and muttered,
"If you're going to rent a car, rent a decent one."
"Tch. That's what I thought."
"We should've taken the train."
More voices chimed in from the back, complaints echoing about the van's sluggish pace and cramped seating.
Finally, Kogoro snapped:
"Don't blame me! The client insisted I bring everyone, so I had to rent a van that could fit this many people!"
"Just bear with it. We'll be fine once we arrive," said Hayashi Yoshiki, smiling calmly.
He sat in the middle of the back row, flanked by Conan on one side and Haibara Ai on the other.
A few days earlier, both Yoshiki and Mouri had received a letter of authorization with a generous check enclosed. The letter stated the date and location of the job.
A wealthy client. Very wealthy.
"By the way," Yoshiki said, "Didn't you win a sports car recently, Uncle Mouri?"
He was referring to the car Kogoro had won at the Twin Tower Skyscraper.
"Yeah, it's parked near the office. But it guzzles gas like crazy, and I can't really use a sports car for my work. I'm thinking of selling it."
Ran, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned around with a smile.
"A wise decision," Yoshiki nodded, still smiling as he gently rotated his right wrist.
Ran noticed and frowned slightly.
"Is your hand healing properly, Yoshiki?"
"It's mostly fine. But I was up typing late last night for the new book… it's a little sore today."
"Don't push yourself too hard."
"I know."
"So you're starting a new book?"
Conan perked up with interest.
Yoshiki nodded—but just as he let go of his wrist, a pair of small hands gently took it.
Haibara Ai was checking it, pressing softly around the joint.
"After a distal radius fracture, functional rehab must be gradual. Overworking it can lead to aseptic inflammation. You'll feel pain every time it rains."
"Got it. I'll be careful."
Yoshiki chuckled and patted her head lightly.
Haibara Ai said nothing, her expression unreadable.
Just behind them, Ayumi Yoshida peeked over the seat with a pout, enviously watching Haibara and thinking how nice it would be to trade seats with Conan.
After over an hour of driving, they finally arrived at their destination:
A luxurious hotel at the entrance to Fantasy Land, a theme park in Yokohama.
The kids looked up and gasped.
"Woooah!!!"
"It looks just like a castle!"
"Does a king live here?"
Their excitement was genuine and infectious.
A bespectacled man appeared at the entrance with the hotel doorman.
"Are you Detective Mouri and Detective Hayashi? I'm the client's secretary, Takada. Please follow me."
They were led to a massive suite—lavishly furnished, more like a private banquet hall with panoramic views of the theme park.
The centerpiece was a long table, curiously out of place.
Hotel staff soon rolled in a cart carrying several watch-like devices.
"These are ID watches," Takada explained. "They'll allow the children to enjoy the entire park for free while Mr. Hayashi and Mr. Mouri work on the case. Food and drinks are also covered."
The kids immediately strapped them on in excitement.
"Is the client the hotel owner?" Kogoro asked.
"No, just a long-term tenant of this suite."
"Must be loaded..."
"Please be careful. If the ID is lost, it cannot be reissued."
Yoshiki took off his own watch and slipped on the ID. It displayed the time: 9:12 AM.
As the kids prepared to head out, Conan moved to join them, but Takada stopped him.
"I'm sorry. You'll need to stay."
Everyone looked confused.
"He's the 100,000th guest," Takada explained with a smile.
While the others accepted the explanation, Conan narrowed his eyes.
He glanced at Yoshiki, who raised an eyebrow knowingly.
Once Ran left with the others, Takada locked the suite door and drew the curtains.
"Per the client's instructions, no interruptions."
He gestured to the fireplace, which flickered to life.
A screen activated, revealing a man in a burgundy bathrobe, seated in a dimly lit room filled with monitors. His face remained obscured.
"Thank you for coming. I'm the client.
Please forgive the secrecy. I can't appear in person.
I have a case for you—but first, some ground rules."
He explained that he'd already hired four other detectives.
"One is still investigating. Two were fired. One failed completely... and was punished."
He played footage of that fourth detective—Aaron—in a cell.
They watched, horrified, as the man's ID exploded, killing him instantly. The flames engulfed the room and destroyed the camera.
"An incompetent detective has no right to live."
The screen shifted back to the client.
"That was C4.
The IDs you're wearing contain the same explosive.
So do the children's."
"What!?"
"Sensors are also embedded. If a child leaves the park, their ID detonates."
Conan and Mouri glared murderously at the screen.
Takada, meanwhile, stood nearby—nervously silent.
"Mr. Takada seems awfully comfortable with all this," Yoshiki said, coldly.
"...What? No, I—"
"Whether or not you know the client's identity, you're complicit in kidnapping and attempted murder."
Takada's smile faltered.
"You bastard!"
Kogoro lunged forward, grabbing Takada by the collar.
"Take us to the client right now!"
"I can't! I really don't know where he is!"
"I'm watching you," the client said calmly. "The ID is GPS-enabled. You can't call the police."
"But solve the case by 10 PM, and I'll defuse all the IDs and give you any reward you want."
"Listen carefully. You get one clue:
TAKA... '3 minus 8' is -5. Combine all digits and you get 385. Let's check Takashima 3-chome 8 first."
Conan and Yoshiki instantly jotted it down.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Mouri barked.
"Any questions?"
"I do," Yoshiki said, rising.
He flexed his wrist and looked toward the screen.
"If we solve the case, we report back here?"
"Correct."
"Mr. Takada will escort us again?"
"Correct."
Yoshiki smiled brightly and walked over to Takada.
"Then if I fail to solve the case... I'll come back under the guise of reporting and bring you with me into the explosion."
Sweat poured from Takada's forehead.
The client ended the call.
Takada handed over two mobile phones.
"You can't call the client. He'll call you when needed. Call me when you have the answer."
Mouri handed one phone to Yoshiki.
"Let's go."
"I thought you were going to throw him over your shoulder."
"I'll get my chance!"
They rushed outside and got in the van.
It was now 10:30 AM. They had less than 12 hours left.
"Conan, contact Ran. Tell her they must not leave the park, no matter what.
Uncle Mouri—do we have a map?"
"Here."
Conan called Haibara. Mouri handed over a map.
One glance, and Yoshiki pointed.
"Takashima Town. That's our first stop."
"Already cracked the code?"
"Most likely. The hint's too vague unless it refers to a location.
TAKA... '3 minus 8' is -5. Combine all digits and you get 385. Let's check Takashima 3-chome 8 first."
Yoshiki opened his black phone and glanced at Conan in the rearview mirror.
Then, he scrolled through his contacts.
He selected: Vermouth.
"The rules say we can't call the police... but they didn't say anything about asking terrorists for help."
And if her precious angel—Conan Edogawa—was in danger, Vermouth would surely take action.
That's the true value of the client, Ito Suehiko.
If not for this one-use utility, Yoshiki would've had Shimizu Reiko eliminate him long ago.
Elsewhere, in a high-rise Tokyo apartment...
Sunlight filtered through expensive curtains.
A stunning woman stretched as she woke—Vermouth.
Her phone buzzed.
She read the message. Her eyes widened.
Cointreau:"Can you come to Yokohama? I need to speak with you—urgently."
"Huh...?"
He hates me. Why is he texting so early in the morning...?
She frowned and replied with her perfectly manicured fingers:
"I'm free. What's this about?"
Cointreau:"I'll explain in person. ASAP."
She paused.
Then smirked, eyes gleaming.
Interesting.
She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom.