Refuse to allow Conan to join the main storyline

At three o'clock in the morning, two suspicious dark figures came to the back door of the Black Cat Office.

One of the young men, wearing a peaked cap and a mask, hesitantly said to the short, fat middle-aged man next to him who had a black eye patch on his left eye: "Hey, are we really going to do this?"

The short and fat man snorted coldly: "Are you scared?"

The young man groaned: "What's there to be afraid of..."

"Then stop talking nonsense and hurry up!"

"I've helped you move it here, you can do the rest yourself."

The middle-aged man stared at him with a stern look: "If you dare to run, I will go to the Metropolitan Police Department to surrender myself, and I will drag you to hell with me! You have gained so much from me, but now you want to stay out of it? Don't dream!"

The young man looked unhappy, but he could not say anything to refute, so he could only give up resistance helplessly.

The two men struggled to move four large oil drums to the outside of the small courtyard at the back door of the office. The short and fat man carefully pushed open the large iron gate of the courtyard. The newly painted iron gate made an old creaking sound, which scared both men and made their heartbeats accelerate.

The young man hurriedly said, "Be gentle! Why are you making such a loud noise?"

As he spoke, he looked into the yard and saw more than a dozen pairs of dark green eyes staring at them. He was so frightened that his legs went weak and he almost fell to the ground.

The short and fat man was also frightened. His voice trembled a little, but he still tried his best to pretend to be calm and scolded: "What's there to be afraid of? They are just stray cats!"

As he spoke, he continued to walk inside, dragging the oil barrel. Unexpectedly, he kicked over the food bowl at his feet.

This was like stirring up a hornet's nest. The stray cats that had been quietly staring at the two people immediately let out a shrill scream when they saw the food bowl being knocked over, and they gathered around them, ready to attack.

Seeing a group of green eyes rushing towards them, the young man didn't say a word, dropped the oil barrel in his hand, and ran away. No matter how his companions shouted at him, he did not stop and soon disappeared into the darkness.

The middle-aged man cursed fiercely, unscrewed the gasoline can in his hand and was about to pour it on the stray cat. However, just as he raised his hand, a hand suddenly stretched out from his side and grabbed his wrist.

The sudden appearance of this hand frightened the man. He trembled violently and quickly retracted his hand, and the oil can fell into that hand.

"Good evening, Inspector Nakae."

Koizumi smiled and said, "I didn't expect you to visit me at this time. I'm sorry for not welcoming you. I heard that you were blind in one eye. It turns out to be true. Oh, how pitiful."

Inspector Nakae's eyes froze, and he growled through gritted teeth, "Sakurai Izumi!"

It was this woman! Because of this woman, his perfect life was ruined! I really want to kill her!

Inspector Nakae's hand slowly reached behind him.

Koizumi pretended not to notice what Inspector Nakae did. She lowered her head and smelled the odor in the jar.

"Gasoline! This is a rare gift. But I don't have a car and I don't need it, so I'm giving it back to you!"

As he said that, Koizumi grabbed the handle of the oil can and threw it towards Zhongjiang.

Zhongjiang had already pulled out the pistol hidden in his waist. He wanted to shoot at Koizumi immediately. Even if he missed her, he could still shoot the gasoline can, which would ignite the gasoline and set the woman on fire. But he didn't expect Koizumi to be so strong that she actually threw the gasoline can at him.

Zhong Jiang was afraid of getting into trouble, so he didn't dare to take the risk of firing a gun and hurriedly dodged to the side. However, he was tripped by something and fell to the ground, where he was hit by the barrel of gasoline, and the gasoline in the can splashed all over him.

Koizumi breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Daju escaped from Zhongjiang's feet in time and was not splashed with gasoline.

She walked over with a smile, took out the same brand of cigarettes as Jinpei Matsuda from her pocket, then took out a lighter and lit a cigarette for herself.

The moment the flames jumped up, Inspector Nakae felt like his heart was about to stop beating. He was so scared that he couldn't even stand up, and used all his limbs to crawl back desperately. Seeing Koizumi getting closer and closer, he hurriedly raised his gun and shouted loudly: "Stop! If you come over again, I will shoot!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Inspector Nakae saw a dark shadow rushing towards him. He felt a sharp pain on the back of his hand, and his hand trembled, and the gun fell to the ground.

Nakae hurriedly tried to pick up the pistol, but as soon as he grabbed the handle, Koizumi stepped hard on his hand.

Ignoring Inspector Nakae's screams, Koizumi picked up the gun and took a look at it under the dim street light.

This is a police-type M60, which is the main equipment of mid- and high-level police officers and plainclothes police officers in Neon. She used this kind of gun in the shooting class in the police academy, but it is a larger police-type one than this one.

Koizumi murmured with a sarcastic laugh: "Are you qualified to use this kind of gun?"

Inspector Nakae felt a sharp pain in his right hand and was completely unable to move. It might be a fracture. He stared at the woman in front of him nervously: "I... I surrender, don't shoot! You, you go call the police and let them arrest me!"

Koizumi stared at him for a while, then sneered, "Okay."

As she spoke, she took out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, Gin-san, the person you didn't kill last time is right here with me. Do you still want him? If not, I'll deal with him myself."

Inspector Nakae's pupils shrank sharply, and he finally couldn't help but scream: "You, you are actually one of them! I want to call the police... I want to call the police!"

Koizumi pulled the bolt with a click, aimed at his head, and said coldly: "Shut up, or I will shoot you now."

Superintendent Nakae lay on the ground in despair, his body shaking like a sieve.

The man on the other end of the phone was silent for two seconds, said briefly "wait", and then hung up.

He didn't ask anything. Could he have been watching nearby? Was he using me as bait, waiting for Inspector Nakae to show up? Maybe he was testing my reaction and ability? If I didn't notice Nakae's sneak attack, or got injured or even died in the conflict, he would probably just make fun of me, right?

This is really the organization's style of operation. It's not surprising at all.

Koizumi snorted coldly, put away his phone, took out the knife he carried with him, and ruthlessly cut two sharp cuts on the back of Inspector Nakae's hand to cover the cat scratch marks.

Superintendent Nakae was probably really frightened. After being cut twice, he just shook instinctively and did not make any other reaction. He was just like a lamb to be slaughtered.

Koizumi once again sneered, mixed with a hint of sarcasm.

The gin arrived quickly.

Just as Koizumi put away the knife, his Porsche had already stopped next to Koizumi.

The windows were down, and a strong, spicy, woody alcohol smell wafted out of the car.

Since acquiring the skill of God of Cookery, Koizumi has been learning the smells of several code-named wines. The wine cabinet behind the bar is an additional product of his learning.

The bourbon is alcoholic with a hint of vanilla, nuts, and caramel.

Scotch whisky has an oceanic and smoky aroma.

Perhaps it is because Furuya Rei and Morobushi Keimitsu have not yet become undercover agents of the organization, they currently only have the simple sweet and smoky smell of caramel, without the smell of alcohol.

Rum has a strong, pungent alcoholic flavor.

And this spicy, woody alcohol flavor is exactly the unique taste of gin in her memory.

Gin held a cigarette in his mouth, glanced at the man lying on the ground like a pile of mud, and raised his chin to the man in the driver's seat: "Vodka."