The Phantom Thief of Heart! But Conan

"Mr. Amuro, what is your wish?"

Toru Amuro paused and looked at Tang Ze with a puzzled expression: "Huh? What kind of strange question is this?"

Tang Ze leaned his head closer and asked persistently: "So, is there one?"

"Everyone has wishes, right? Isn't this normal?" Toru Amuro threw down the wet towel to wipe his hands speechlessly, "Don't change the subject, I asked you first, what were you talking about with Conan this afternoon?"

Although Karasawa did not go with him, because of the appearance of Joker, poor Yuya Kazami followed the news for another day. Although it did not need to be cleared one by one like dealing with information related to Karasawa, because of the large amount of property in the case Without a trace, the follow-up work of the Italian bandit group is still full of troubles.

Now seeing Karasawa and Conan chatting together, Toru Amuro would instinctively be alert.

"We were just talking about the Paradise Game Conference." Tangze's mouth was like a liar. He started talking nonsense. "He said that Joker might go to this conference and was talking to me seriously. How to protect Maori classmates."

"Will Joker go?" Toru Amuro frowned, remembering that Conan was the only person involved who had faced Joker twice, and couldn't help but ask seriously, "Did he discover something?"

Tang Ze shrugged: "It's just possible. Children's thinking is more active. He might just say this so that you can agree to my coming."

Toru Amuro raised an eyebrow, not believing Karasawa's statement.

No matter where Conan's news comes from, let's tell Yuya Kazami first that we will arrange manpower for control tomorrow.

"Mr. Amuro, I answered your question, so what's your answer?" Karasawa persisted and leaned closer, "What is your wish?"

"Did you see any strange tests on the Internet?" Toru Amuro shook his head.

But, wish...

He wiped his hands, cut ham and toast, and made sandwiches. Some fragmentary scenes flashed past his eyes so fast that he couldn't tell them apart.

Of course there are wishes, but no one is exempt from dreams, reality, regrets and pain.

The triple-face life gave him a multi-faceted and fragmented life, and also gave him more dreams and more regrets.

There was no expression on Toru Amuro's face, but a soft smile with some nostalgia: "My wish is world peace."

If there was no organization, if there were not so much crime and hatred, his life would be completely different.

But Toru Amuro is not a person who likes fantasy. He never dared to forget the past, but he never dared to dwell on it. He must carry the past and set out for the future.

"What a great dream." Tangze observed his expression, examined it carefully, and then smiled, "It is not easy to have such a pure dream after you grow up."

Toru Amuro narrowed his eyes and realized that Karasawa was indeed a yin and yang person from Kyoto: "...I suspect that you are calling me childish."

"No, I really admire you." Tang Ze raised his hand innocently.

Toru Amuro glanced sideways at him and put the sandwich in front of him: "Shut up and eat."

After saying that, Toru Amuro turned around, picked up his phone, and started editing a new mission email for Yuya Kazami.

Karasawa picked up the sandwich, took a bite, and also picked up the phone.

What would be the power enough to cause trauma or become a wish for Fangtani Rei?

He is not contrite, he is not sad, he draws forward thrust from suffering, then he——

Karasawa started typing.

"Name: Fangtani Rei

Location: Polo Cafe

Positioning: Cinema"

A female voice that he turned down very low came from the speaker of the mobile phone.

"The location is locked."

Tangze narrowed his eyes and smiled, without clicking the button to navigate to another world, he turned off the screen again and put down his phone.

He always loved the feeling of getting a piece like this and fitting it perfectly into the puzzle. It was great.

————

"Wow..." Tang Ze looked at the huge spray painting in front of him and shouted with no meaning.

Conan's mouth twitched: "Who is this handsome man? Is he even remotely related to Uncle Maori?"

Standing next to them, Suzuki Sonoko nodded in agreement and glanced unhappily at Mouri Kogoro, who was holding on to the door frame with a confused look on his face.

Mao Lilan sighed helplessly: "Dad, is it really okay for you to attend the press conference like this?"

Mouri Kogoro, who was obviously hungover, said harshly: "I'm fine!"

"Didn't you drink the hangover soup?" Tang Ze also sighed. From the first time he went to Maori's office, he gave Mao Lilan his usual hangover soup recipe. If he had taken it honestly, he would never be like this. To vomit or not.

"What kind of hangover soup should I drink? I only drank five or six cups... vomit..." Mouri Kogoro covered his mouth and retched.

"Yeah, I drank five or six glasses of gin, vodka and whiskey." Conan complained, "It's better to just drink one kind and drink a whole bottle without getting so drunk."

"Why do you like drinking so much?" Mao Lilan complained, but handed him the bottled water, "Is the wine that good?"

Karasawa felt guilty inexplicably, his eyes wandered, he coughed and looked at the spray-painted promotional wall: ""Detective Detective Mouri Kogoro's Mystery Studio", it's amazing. "

Suzuki Sonoko glared at the handsome middle-aged detective printed on the top and gasped in disapproval: "Didn't you say that it was produced by the uncle himself? Why is it so unrestored?"

The promotional pictures are so handsome, but the real person looks like a drunkard in a trance. It's a complete fraud, a fraud!

"Okay, let's go in and store our things first." Tang Ze understood Yan Gou's anger and reached out to pat her shoulder, "There are more and more people. If you don't go in, you'll have to wait in line for a long time."

When Suzuki Sonoko turned her head and saw Karasawa's face, her attitude immediately softened, and she secretly took half a step closer: "That's right. Store all your bags and everything. The venue is very big. Let's go around to experience the game and carry it." The bag is very tiring.”

Mao Lilan supported Maori Kogoro, who was in poor condition, and Conan followed Karasawa and Suzuki Sonoko with his hands in his pockets. The group merged into the crowd and lined up in the queue at the item storage office.

"Is that Mr. Mouri!" When he was about to queue up, Kogoro Mouri was attracted by a shout and turned around, only to see a few young people wearing standard corporate suits and the same clips on their ties squeeze into the queue.

Mouri Kogoro thought he looked familiar, but couldn't name him for a while, so he nodded awkwardly and said, "You are..."

"My dear Nakajima, Nakajima Hideaki, your game is the project I am responsible for." Nakajima Hideaki smiled brightly.

"Oh, yes, I saw you last time at the planning meeting." Mouri Kogoro suddenly realized.

"Your number plate." Tang Ze's commuter bag was stuffed into the locker. He moved his shoulders unaccustomedly and took the number 96 number plate.

"Nakajima, stop talking!" A slap came directly from behind to Nakajima Hideaki, who was chatting happily with Mori Kogoro. Another social worker wearing glasses said anxiously, "If you don't enter the venue, it will be too late to decorate the booth. Okay, the event will start in twenty minutes."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Nakajima Hideaki glanced at his colleagues unhappily, then turned back with a smile, "Mr. Mori, can you let us jump in line first? Please, the president is about to arrive."

Mouri Kogoro looked at the other two people behind him who were sweating profusely, and gave up his position without paying much attention.

Three identical boxes were placed on the counter.

The service staff registered them one by one, looked at the three identical bags, and reminded them kindly: "Please match the number plate, don't make a mistake."

Several people looked at the three bags side by side.

The other people were just curious about the obviously wholesale bag, while Tang Ze's eyes were slightly respectful.

Appeared, the traditional craftsmanship of Mihua people, hand-made refined bombs, with sufficient firepower and big noise, can blow up an eight-foot-old man to pieces and blast through the concrete of the bathroom. The size is only the size of a briefcase...

Karasawa thinks the organization should consider recruiting the murderer in this case. This skill must go well with gin.