Chapter 158: A Mission Destined for Complications
"By the way, Natsume," Jodie began, a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I heard Shu—ahem, Conan mention that you're very skilled. Um... would you mind sparring with me?" She felt a bit rude for the abrupt request, but her curiosity about the girl's abilities had been piqued. Bracing herself, she asked anyway.
"Sure." Natsume blinked, momentarily surprised, but saw no reason to refuse. It was a simple enough request.
"Then I'll be the referee!" Upon hearing Natsume's agreement, Charlotte's hand shot up, her eyes bright with interest as she eagerly volunteered.
With the terms settled, Jodie and Natsume didn't bother finding another venue. They simply cleared a space in the sparsely furnished living room and faced each other.
Although Jodie had taken Shuichi Akai's assessment to heart, her gaze still lingered on Natsume's slender, almost delicate frame. Subconsciously, she held back at the start, unwilling to go all out against someone who looked so fragile.
But the moment they engaged, that notion was shattered. A solid, unyielding force met her block, the impact jarring her straight to the bone. Jodie's eyes widened. She had completely underestimated her. Shuichi's evaluation hadn't just been correct; it had been an understatement.
Left with no choice, Jodie shed her reservations. She brought her full strength to bear, treating Natsume not as a curious novelty, but as a genuine, dangerous opponent.
A short while later, Conan listened to Jodie recount the incident, the corner of his mouth twitching. If he hadn't left when he did, he would have run right into his FBI acquaintance alongside Natsume and her friends. He truly hadn't expected his two separate worlds to collide so directly, nor had he anticipated Jodie making such a bold request.
While Conan knew Natsume was a capable fighter, he lacked a clear benchmark for her abilities. The thought of her sparring with an FBI agent ignited his own curiosity. Just how wide was the gap? How long would it take for Natsume to defeat one of the Bureau's best?
"So, Jodie-sensei, how long did you last?"
For a second, Conan thought he'd accidentally spoken his inner thoughts aloud, but he quickly realized the cool, dry voice belonged to Haibara. He shot her a surprised look, not having pegged her as someone interested in such things.
"Hey, hey! You—no, wait a minute," Jodie protested, planting her hands on her hips. "Are you all just assuming I would lose?"
Her indignant gaze swept from Haibara to the others, only to find Dr. Agasa and even Conan looking at her with the exact same expectant expression. The unified front only deepened her frustration.
"Fine, I admit it! I lost," she finally conceded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I lasted about three minutes." A wave of depression washed over her, but she couldn't stop the truth from tumbling out. She was, however, far too embarrassed to mention that it felt like Natsume had been going easy on her for that entire time.
"After that, I said my goodbyes and left," Jodie continued, picking up her story. "On my way out, I saw you from a distance, running out of that building looking panicked. I thought about it and decided to keep tracking that woman. But after a while, I realized she was intentionally taking a circuitous route, so I broke off the tail."
'So that's how it was,' Conan thought, the pieces clicking into place. The strange car Mizunashi Rena had mentioned on the wiretap—the one following her—really had been the FBI.
They quickly exchanged all their information. Once Jodie learned that Conan had managed to plant a bug and a tracker on Mizunashi Rena, and that the Black Organization had an operation scheduled for 1:00 PM, she abandoned any thought of persuading him to back down. Instead, she climbed into Dr. Agasa's Beetle, relayed the situation to her colleagues, and prepared to act in concert with Conan.
Inside the car, the tension mounted as Conan pieced together the puzzle. Through a rapid series of deductions, he determined that the Organization's target, codenamed "DJ," was Yasuteru Domon, a candidate currently running in the House of Representatives election.
The motive was clear. Domon was a man with a fierce sense of justice, known for his fiery speeches against violence and organized crime on television and in newspapers. He enjoyed high public support, and his election to parliament was a very real possibility. If he won, his influence would have a disastrous impact on the Organization's clandestine activities.
As they raced through the city, the rain gradually tapered off.
They had the target, but the location—"Eddie P"—remained a mystery. The clock was ticking. It was already past 12:30. If they couldn't decipher the location soon, they would never make it in time.
Just then, a single phrase from Haibara gave Conan the spark he needed.
"Hunting ground..."
His mind flashed back. Vermouth. She had used that exact same term before. In an instant, the code resolved itself in his mind. 'Eddie P' wasn't a building or a street. It was a place.
"Haido Park!"
"Doctor, head for Haido Park! Now!" Conan urged, his voice sharp with certainty.
At Haido Park, the air was still and heavy.
Chianti and Korn were already settled into their predetermined sniper positions. Through their high-powered scopes, they had a clear line of sight on the spot where Kir was meant to deliver Yasuteru Domon.
"Gin, isn't Kir here yet?" Chianti grumbled into her communicator, her patience wearing thin. The waiting was making her antsy.
"Wait," Gin's voice crackled back from the parking lot, his tone perfectly calm but carrying an undercurrent of warning. "Kir is already leading DJ to the location. Follow the plan. Don't do anything unnecessary."
As Gin, Vodka, and Cointreau sat in quiet anticipation, another car pulled into the parking lot. It was a normal occurrence—cars came and went constantly—and none of them spared it a second glance.
Only Vermouth, draped in an air of elegant boredom, let her eyes drift over to the newcomer. That casual glance was all it took. Her breath caught. She saw a familiar, diminutive figure getting out of the car—a child who absolutely should not have been there.
'Cool Guy... and... the FBI?'she thought, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly before she let out a soft, helpless sigh.'Why?'Sitting beside her, Cointreau keenly sensed the sudden ripple in her composure. He turned his head, his gaze questioning. Before he could speak, however, his own eyes caught sight of a familiar vehicle through the window next to Vermouth.'Ah,'he thought.'There's no need to ask her now.'
Though Cointreau had never seen the car in person, his investigation into the lives of those intimately connected to the world's protagonist had been thorough. He knew, without a doubt, that the yellow Beetle belonged to Dr. Agasa, Kudo Shinichi's former neighbor.
With that car here, coincidence was out of the question. Coupled with the fact that its arrival was enough to disrupt Vermouth's practiced calm, the answer was obvious. She had seen Conan Edogawa.
Cointreau had originally assumed only the FBI would be stirring up trouble today. He hadn't expected the protagonist himself to make an appearance. And with Vermouth sitting right next to him, ready to interfere... it seemed the odds of completing the mission today were dropping to near zero.
But Cointreau felt no disappointment. A message from his younger sister the previous day had already prepared him for this outcome. He was merely here to go through the motions, to see how things played out. Mission failure would cause him no real damage.
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