To avoid startling people—especially Heiji Hattori or any would-be criminals—Jiangxia Tongzhi had thoughtfully equipped himself with a hat and scarf this time.
By the frigid seaside, this outfit didn't raise any eyebrows.
A crowd had formed, all eager to try their luck at the prize quiz. Some held Rubik's Cubes, others wielded yo-yos, and one burly man had actually brought a samurai sword, apparently planning to embody the bushido spirit right there on the dock. Unfortunately for him, the quiz host didn't require a live kendo demonstration, and security promptly dragged him off.
As the sword guy was being escorted away, Jiangxia picked up his luggage, stepped forward, and presented an old banknote to the staff member guarding the ramp.
The staffer offered a polite smile and gestured toward the gangway. "That's correct. Please board."
…
After passing through the walkway and a long corridor, Jiangxia emerged into a hall that looked more like a hotel reception than anything nautical.
Despite the ship's size, there weren't many guests aboard. Only a few people had arrived using the rare old banknote, and even fewer than that were staff.
A few stood at the front desk; others lounged on armchairs, waiting for room assignments.
Jiangxia glanced around, momentarily dazed—so much killing intent. This entire ship was oozing with ominous energy. Definitely not your average sightseeing cruise.
…
Once the people ahead of him had checked in, Jiangxia rose from his chair and approached the counter.
The receptionist was a young woman with a neat bun and a perfectly forgettable face.
She slid a registration book toward him. Each guest got their own page—clearly designed to avoid others peeking at names.
Jiangxia, unfazed, wrote his real name. In wild cursive. The kind of illegible script that even a calligraphy teacher would need a minute to decode.
There was also a "Profession" field. Jiangxia wrote "Student," this time using a font just legible enough not to be accused of trolling.
The receptionist accepted the book, stared at his handwriting for a beat too long, then recovered and politely showed him the room map. Since there were so few guests, he could pick any room he liked.
Jiangxia pointed lazily and chose Room 2.
As he took the key and walked away, the ghosts around him were visibly perking up—killing intent was thick in the air, and they were loving it. They peered this way and that like kids at an all-you-can-haunt buffet.
Jiangxia also glanced at several rooms thoughtfully, mentally calculating which poor soul to exploit first.
He remembered: twenty years ago, a notorious Tokyo bank robbery had taken place.
The ringleader had been a man named Kanou Saizo, also known as the "Organizer of the shadows" He and three accomplices had stolen four hundred million yen and, during the heist, a female bank employee was fatally shot.
Kanou Saizo was known for planning meticulously and avoiding bloodshed. So when he learned the woman had died, he was overwhelmed with guilt and tried to turn himself in. His three partners weren't so sentimental. They shot him and dumped him into the sea to silence him.
Since the money was traceable, they decided to wait twenty years—when the statute of limitations expired—before splitting it. They locked the cash in a safe that required three items to open: a signature, a seal, and a key. Each of the three surviving accomplices kept one of these items to prevent betrayal.
To stay anonymous over the years, they'd also agreed to undergo plastic surgery and use these items to recognize each other at the reunion.
Naturally, someone couldn't resist scheming.
Twenty years later—today—Kujirai Sadao, the one holding the signature, decided to kill the other two, claim their items, and pin everything on Kanou Saizo. After all, no one outside their group knew Kanou Saizo was dead. As far as the world was concerned, he had gone on the run after the murder.
And to frame someone, you need a detective.
So Kujirai, who lived in Kansai, wrote an anonymous letter inviting Heiji Hattori aboard the ship.
He also planted a public quiz ad for the cruise under the name "Furukawa Dai"—a name Kanou Saizo often used in the past, chosen for its simple kanji strokes. Kujirai assumed only his accomplices would recognize it.
What he didn't know was that "Furukawa Dai" was actually just "Kanou Saizo" rotated ninety degrees and rearranged.
So instead of just the accomplices, a whole crowd showed up: Kanou Saizo's daughter, still grieving her father's disappearance; the dead bank employee's fiancé and father…
And Jiangxia, who had memorized the spoilers.
In short, aside from the invited detectives, the passengers were split into two camps: the Robber Group and the Victim Group.
Among the robbers, Kujirai Sadao was plotting to off the others and run away with everything.
And the other two? They weren't saints either. Sure, they couldn't kill Kujirai—the guy with the signature—but if they could eliminate the one with the seal or the key, that'd be one less person to split the money with. Sixty to seventy million yen magically appears just like that.
Meanwhile, the bank employee's fiancé was no pushover. The middle-aged man, Ebina Minoru, had brought a big box of time bombs. His plan was simple: if he found the robbers, he'd blow up the entire ship and take them all to hell. If he didn't find them, he'd just toss the bombs into the sea.
In short: neither camp was easy to deal with.
Jiangxia calmly tallied the number of people carrying obvious killing intent and concluded this trip was totally worth it.
He quickly located Room 2, stepped in, locked the door, and set down his luggage—along with his actual body.
Then he transferred his consciousness to a puppet.
—Before boarding, he'd hidden a puppet near the port for this exact reason.
There were just too many shady types on board. While Conan and Heiji had unrivaled murder-magnet abilities, they were also champions of seeking death in increasingly creative ways. Jiangxia decided he needed backup—just in case.
If nothing major happened, he could dismiss the puppet later. But if things got dicey, he had a plan: by having the puppet "board" the ship in a plausible way, it could join the scene without anyone questioning it. If his puppets kept showing up and vanishing like shikigami, the detectives would get suspicious, and science would lose yet another round.
…
Soon, near the port, a puppet stood up and began walking toward the ship, clutching an old ten-thousand-yen note.
It wore a long black dress, a wide-brimmed hat, and oversized sunglasses that couldn't quite conceal the faint "Z" shaped scar under its right eye.
Yes, Jiangxia had chosen Miyano Akemi again as the puppet's host form.
As for the other ghosts… the Fog Tengu and the Mermaid were too outlandish to pass as human outside a cosplay event. The Parent Ghosts could only board the ship if they embraced each other awkwardly or consumed a huge amount of killing intent to compress into a creepy thin man with a beer belly—or a very pregnant woman ready to pop. Xiaobai, meanwhile, still looked like a child.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 46/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*