The Split-Actress in Conan's World

"Aha--"

Chiyoko raised his head and yawned loudly. He rubbed his eyes, and his sleepy eyes became much clearer.

As if coordinated, the cheerful bell for the end of get out of class rang in an instant.

"Okay, today's class ends here. You can go home now. Be careful on the road!" Teacher Kobayashi erased the notes he had written on the blackboard for the whole class and said goodbye to everyone gently.

"Good teacher!"

"goodbye teacher!"

As soon as school is over, the children become energetic and rush to put on their schoolbags.

"Let's go back together!" The three little members of the Junior Detective League quickly packed up their things and gathered around Conan and Haibara Ai's table.

"Yeah." Conan nodded and picked up his schoolbag.

Just as he was about to follow his friends out of the classroom, he suddenly noticed that the woman next to him who always kept up with him surprisingly did not.

"Haibara?" He called out to her in confusion.

Haibara Ai sat in her seat, looking a little depressed.

She just had a dream.

The content of the dream is already vague and I can’t remember it clearly, but the feeling of sadness in the dream is like a maggot on the tarsal bone, which has been lingering in my heart and I have not been able to calm down for a long time.

"Grey Yuan!"

She shuddered as if awakened, and Conan raised his hand and waved it in front of her eyes, "What are you thinking about so intently?"

Shaking her head gently, Huibara Ai stood up and put away her things.

Chiyoko had fallen behind at some point and joined the "little tail" hanging behind the three little ones.

"I have something very serious to tell you." His expression was solemn, no longer his usual lazy tone, and his thin eyebrows were tightly furrowed.

Conan put his hands behind his head and looked at him sideways: "Which dessert shop has a new one?"

Every time Chiyo comes across a new product that is said to be "extremely delicious", he always uses this tone.

But this law rarely fails to work.

"This time it's serious business." Chiyoko's eyes were solemn.

"My prediction has come true again."

After hearing this, Conan became serious. This guy's last prediction came true accurately, so it was still worthy of attention.

"What did you see again?"

"Gin..." A hint of gloom appeared on Chiyomi's face, but it disappeared in a flash.

"He seemed to be confronting someone, and there was a large pool of blood on the ground."

"Everything else is blurry and not very clear, but Gin seems to be smiling."

"Laugh?" Conan repeated. For some reason, he always had an ominous premonition in his heart, as if a thick dark cloud was covering his heart.

"I tried to read his lip movements," Chiyoko paused, her eyes involuntarily moving to Huihara Ai who had been silent since the beginning, "What he said was..."

"'Shirley, we finally got you.'"

Haibara Ai's pupils dilated unconsciously and her thin shoulders began to tremble. She was already immersed in the emotions of the dream, and now she felt even more embarrassed.

"Impossible? How could Gin suspect her when she looks like a child now, let alone catch her?" Conan walked around Haibara Ai and could never have imagined that she would be caught.

"Gin, Gin..." Haibara Ai's expression was stiff, as if she was frightened.

Conan thought she was too afraid of Gin and was frightened just by hearing about this situation. He patted her shoulder and comforted her: "Don't worry, he is just predicting. As long as we are careful, we won't be found."

However, Haibara Ai grabbed his sleeve tightly and pointed to the street not far away in horror.

"That's Gin's car!"

The Porsche 356A was parked there quietly, with no one inside.

"What?!" Conan wondered if he had just heard an illusion, "You said that was Gin's car?"

"I can't be wrong!" Huiyuan Ai took a long breath, calmed herself down, and confirmed the details of the car again, "Vodka had it modified, so the windows are thicker than ordinary cars."

"So that future may happen in the near future." Chiyoko thought thoughtfully.

"Well," Conan pondered for a while, opened his detective badge, turned around and said to Chiyo, "Take Huibara and the children back first, and help me call the doctor."

"I'll stay here and find a chance to put the bug in his car."

"No!" Huiyuan Ai immediately rejected his proposal, "This is too dangerous no matter what!"

"Gin isn't the type of criminal who would go easy on a child!"

Conan calmly explained: "I will act with caution. Don't worry. I still cherish my life."

"Even if you say that..." Huibara Ai was interrupted before she could finish her words.

She stared blankly at Conan as he approached her, took off his glasses forcefully and put them on her face, revealing his big white teeth.

"I know you are very anxious now because of Chiyo's prophecy, so I asked you to go back."

Conan helped her adjust the position of her glasses, clamping them firmly on her delicate nose bridge, and said softly: "You know what? As long as you wear these glasses, even if Sherlock Holmes is reborn, he won't be able to recognize you and arrest you."

The detective boy blinked and smiled confidently: "Even Clark Kent would be surprised by it!"

Haibara Ai was stunned. The glasses in front of her inexplicably brought her a sense of security, calming her uneasy heart which had been restless since that dream.

Seeing the complacent little detective in front of her, her eyes softened: "So, without your glasses, you are Superman?"

"It's almost impossible to fly." Conan rubbed his nose with a smile.

"You're really good at showing off. You're just a little detective."

Huiyuan sighed and earnestly warned: "Remember, you must be careful and keep in touch with us at any time."

"If something goes wrong, send out a distress signal immediately and we will come as soon as possible."

After a while, the street was filled with traffic.

The pedestrian traffic light turned green, and the endless stream of cars was finally stopped.

Gin lowered his head and lit a cigarette. The faint spark flickered in the smoke. He put the lighter back into his pocket and stepped onto the zebra crossing.

Vodka followed obediently behind, keeping a sharp eye out to prevent any vehicles from running red lights from rushing over.

When the two of them walked to the car, Gin looked at the messy footprints around the Porsche and frowned slightly.

However, this did not escape Vodka's eyes. Vodka, who knew his elder brother very well, said quickly: "It seems that many knowledgeable passers-by came up to visit. After all, your car is a classic!"

"Heh." Gin sneered, but his frown smoothed out at some point. He opened the passenger door and sat in.

"Even this old German tree frog will become great with the passage of time."

He stopped Vodka from shifting gears, and Vodka looked at him in confusion.

"Call Glenfiddich first and confirm the distribution of the bombs."

Gin would never say that he didn't want to hear that guy's voice.

Vodka let out an "ah", causing Gin to look at him again. Then he reacted and quickly took out his cell phone.

"Hey?"

"Glenfiddich, it's me, Vodka."

The call was quickly connected, and Vodka looked at Gin tentatively but got no further instructions.

"It's you." Grenfiddich's tone rose unconsciously, and one could tell at once that he was in a good mood.

"What's wrong, Lao Fu? You called me alone. Have you figured it out?"

"I told you long ago that if you follow Gin and go hungry, come to my side and I will make sure you won't suffer any injustice."

Vodka hurriedly grabbed the phone and said to the other side: "What, what do you mean you figured it out? Big brother is always good to me, don't talk nonsense here!"

As he said this, he secretly observed Gin, but unfortunately Gin turned his head to look out the window at this time, so his expression could not be seen.

But it seems that he didn't take it seriously.

Vodka breathed a sigh of relief, but was afraid that Glenfiddich would say something even more terrifying, so he quickly quickened his voice: "Big brother asked me to ask you, how is the bomb deployment over there going? Don't let anything go wrong!"

"I've told you not to doubt my ability in this area, or I'll give you a taste next time?" Glenfiddich seemed unhappy to be questioned.

"It's consistent with the distribution map I sent you before."

However, he changed the subject: "The signal over there is intermittent, is there something wrong?"

"Really?" Vodka checked the cell phone signal and found that everything was good.

Gin started checking the situation in the car as soon as Glenfiddich raised the question, and soon he took out a piece of chewed gum from the gap in the car door.

"It seems that there really are some desperate little bugs that are setting their sights on us." Gin narrowed his eyes and crushed the bug wrapped inside.

His voice was transmitted to Glenfiddich through the phone, and he was mocked: "Someone secretly planted a bug in your car, and then planted a bomb on it. Will I be able to laugh at your grave?"

Gin didn't say anything and hung up the phone in Vodka's hand.

"get off."

His face was very dark.

"Check for bombs."

......

"He hung up on me?"

Glenfiddich heard the "beep" sound of the phone after hanging up, and made a silent note in his mind.

"It's good enough that he is willing to call you on his own initiative." Vermouth, who was sitting opposite him, was wearing a slim light gold dress with a little red on her lips. She said this in pure London English.

Glenfiddich put away his phone, shook the glass of red wine in front of him, which had turned purple due to being stored for too long, and replied in fluent English: "He asked Vodka to call."

Vermouth seemed speechless at this childish behavior and took a sip of red wine to hide her embarrassment.

"Can I invite you to dinner later?" A fat and big-eared upstart appeared from nowhere, with a disgusting smile on his greasy face. He intervened between the two of them and pretentiously put the wine glass in his hand in front of Vermouth.

"Sorry, I don't understand Japanese." Vermouth said this in English with a pretended apology, and smiled back decently.

Chris Wynyard, who was nominally an assistant, saw this and stepped forward and skillfully sent the upstart away.

Of course, this highly skilled assistant is also a member of the organization.

"Would you like to have dinner with us later?" Glenfiddich winked and, imitating the man's pretentious tone, raised his glass towards Vermouth.

Vermouth rolled her eyes, but because it was a public occasion, she still politely clinked glasses with him.

"Please spare me the trouble of dating someone like you who has such bad taste that he wears all black."

"I'll take that as an allusion to Gin." Glenfiddich curled the corners of his lips and drank the wine in the glass.

"My outfit is more suitable for this kind of occasion." He turned to look at the people in the banquet hall who were wearing various black clothes.

"After all, this is a memorial service for a famous director, and people wearing black are the mainstream. Even if I dress like this, I won't attract attention at this time. Instead, you..."

Glancing frivolously at Vermouth's dress that revealed her shoulders, Grenfiddich smiled in an ambiguous way: "You just rely on your high international status, so no one dares to say anything to you."

"You are amazing, wearing this at someone's memorial service."

Vermouth didn't care, and even touched her rosy lips in a coquettish manner, "Anyway, I've stopped my acting activities, so I don't care about offending people."

"If you can't make it, will you support me?" She jokingly put on a little lip gloss and gently slid it across the back of Glenfiddich's hand.

"Don't disgust me." Grunfiddie withdrew his hand with a look of disgust, picked up the purple handkerchief distributed at the party and wiped it vigorously.

He looked around and sighed, "But this memorial service is really grand. Not only did it bring together famous university professors from the academic circle, but also many business tycoons."

"I remember that Pisco has a pretty good reputation, right? Even he was invited to come here in person. How can this Director Sakamaki have such a great influence?"

"The only real influence he has as a 'director' is on that group of fake little actors. Most of these upper-class people are in the social circle involved in money laundering." Vermouth contemptuously exposed the essence of this so-called memorial service.

"What's more, many of them are here for 'Chris Wynyard'."

"Young and beautiful, internationally famous, at the height of her fame she announced her retirement from the entertainment industry, and no matter how hard you try you can't find any backers. This is the best 'little white rabbit'."

She chuckled meaningfully and said, "Don't underestimate the appeal of 'little white rabbit' to them."