[TL/N: New Book Here! It's Detective Conan fanfic! Titled: Detective Conan: I'm A Succubus!?]
-------
"Wow!!"
On the second floor of the Barto Detective Agency, inside Bartolomeo's living area, the three kids stared in awe at the collection of Masked Superman memorabilia covering an entire wall. Their mouths dropped open, wide enough to fit an egg, as they struggled to process the sight before them.
"Hmph!"
Standing behind them with his hands on his hips, Bartolomeo struck a dramatic pose, flipping his hair confidently and smirking. "Well? Impressed?"
"Yeah!!!"
The three kids nodded in unison, their eyes still glued to the incredible display.
Mitsuhiko murmured under his breath, "So it's true… Masked Superman really is among us!"
Suddenly, Mitsuhiko's gaze shifted to Conan, who stood a few steps behind Bartolomeo, visibly unamused by the situation. A spark of realization lit up in Mitsuhiko's eyes as he raised his hand excitedly.
"Uh... Mr. Masked Superman!" Mitsuhiko called out eagerly. "Can we train with you, like Conan does?"
"Oh? You want to become Masked Superman too?" Bartolomeo asked, feigning curiosity.
Hearing that Bartolomeo hadn't outright rejected the idea, the three kids—whose hopes had only been faint before—suddenly felt their hearts race with excitement.
"B-But... is that even possible?" Ayumi asked hesitantly, looking up at Bartolomeo with cautious hope.
"Of course!" Bartolomeo declared, straightening up and raising his arm in a heroic gesture. "You can never have too many partners of justice!"
"Hey, hey—hold on a second!"
Conan, standing in the background, felt a wave of unease wash over him.
Before he could intervene, Bartolomeo confidently added, "If you want to become partners of justice, then why not join in and train with Conan?!"
"Really!?"
"Yeah!!!"
The kids practically jumped with joy at Bartolomeo's affirmation.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Conan rushed forward, grabbed Bartolomeo by the arm, and dragged him over to the staircase. He glared at Bartolomeo with an expression of pure disbelief.
"Are you serious?" Conan asked in a low, urgent tone. "You're not actually planning to teach them fighting skills, are you? They're just elementary school kids!"
"Elementary school kids? And what are you, exactly?" Bartolomeo shot back with a smirk, patting Conan's shoulder twice as if to console him.
"Hey!" Conan swatted Bartolomeo's hand away. He wasn't backing down. "You're not thinking of involving them in the fight against the Black Organization, are you?"
"Huh? And what if I am?" Bartolomeo replied nonchalantly. "After all, it's not like there are many worthy opponents in this world."
"Are you kidding me?!" Conan's frustration finally boiled over.
"They're just kids! Do you even understand what it means to go up against the Black Organization? It's a fight that could get them killed!"
"Haha..."
Bartolomeo chuckled lightly, then turned to Conan with a sharp, knowing smile.
"Conan... Do you really think I've been training you just so you'd end up getting yourself killed?" he said, his voice calm but cutting.
"If you finish my training and still manage to get taken out by someone else…" Bartolomeo paused and shook his head. "Then, frankly, you'd be a waste of my time."
"..."
Conan froze, unsure how to respond. As much as he hated to admit it, Bartolomeo's blunt words left him feeling both offended and slightly insecure.
But before Conan could collect his thoughts, Bartolomeo continued, grinning mischievously.
"And let's be honest here—do you really think you have some kind of natural talent for fighting?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Bartolomeo added with a laugh. "If it weren't for how entertaining it is to watch you struggle, I would've rather trained that little chubby kid over there!" He pointed directly at Genta, whose eyes lit up at the unexpected compliment.
"At least he'd probably have a knack for defensive moves," Bartolomeo remarked casually.
"...You didn't have to go that far," Conan muttered, his confidence visibly deflated.
"Oh, but I'm serious!" Bartolomeo patted Conan on the head playfully. "There's this one move I know that'd be perfect for that kid. It'd suit him way better than you."
"Stop worrying about it, kid." Bartolomeo's tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "You've got a sharp mind, sure, but in this world, pure combat ability isn't everything. Don't think that just because you've learned a few basic techniques, you're qualified to judge others."
"As long as I'm here, you can focus on your training in peace!"
And just like that…
The three kids—thanks to Bartolomeo's reckless enthusiasm—began their own training program alongside Conan.
Of course, since they still had school during the day, Bartolomeo cleverly convinced their parents to let them come to the Barto Detective Agency under the pretense of "physical training."
Although this greatly reduced their training progress, it didn't matter. In a world where time and space were chaotic, time was practically irrelevant.
After all, no matter how long they trained, the world would always reset to January 1st, allowing them to experience countless New Year's Days over and over again.
Time passed quickly.
Since the passage of time could no longer be measured by conventional dates, even Bartolomeo himself had no idea how long he had been training the kids.
But one thing was clear—
The Young Detective Team had completely transformed into something unrecognizable from their former selves.
Thanks to the nutrient solutions Bartolomeo had exchanged and his rigorous training regimen, Conan had officially mastered the Six Powers of the Navy—more specifically, the Tempest Kick. His strength had skyrocketed, reaching a level comparable to that of a Level 10 Pokémon.
If this were the world of pirates, Conan's combat abilities would rival those of a pirate with a bounty of 10 million berries.
In a world full of ordinary people, however, such strength was nothing short of extraordinary.
Even if he were to face his childhood sweetheart, Ran, Conan now far outclassed her in combat.
He had become a true beast—still appearing as a child on the outside, but holding immense power within.
The other three kids, under Bartolomeo's relentless training, had also achieved remarkable growth, with power levels ranging between 5 and 8.
The results were astonishing.
To forge an extraordinary team in this mundane world, Bartolomeo had carefully selected the most suitable techniques from the Six Powers of the Navy for each of them.
For Genta, whose robust physique made him naturally compatible, Bartolomeo taught him the Iron Body technique.
Thanks to his outstanding physical talent, Genta had already reached Level 8 strength. According to Bartolomeo's tests, Genta could now block a round of ordinary pistol bullets using the Iron Body.
Of course, enhanced bullets like armor-piercing rounds would still injure him, but Bartolomeo was confident that, given enough time, Genta would become an impenetrable iron wall.
Perhaps, with the help of the Six Powers and supplemental nutrients from the Pokémon world, Genta might even break past this world's physical limits and evolve further.
Unlike Bartolomeo, who was an outsider in this world, Conan and the others—natives of this realm—held the potential to push the boundaries of the world itself with Bartolomeo's guidance.
Though such evolution would take time and dedication, in the world of Conan, time was the least valuable resource.
In addition to Genta's Iron Body, Bartolomeo also taught Ayumi a combination of Shave and Moonwalk techniques, while Mitsuhiko learned Finger Gun and Paper Art.
Since Ayumi and Mitsuhiko had to juggle two techniques each, their progress naturally lagged behind Genta's.
Currently, Mitsuhiko had reached Level 6, while Ayumi was at Level 5.
However, these levels were by no means insignificant.
Mitsuhiko, at Level 6, could already stand in front of ten high-speed tennis machines for over an hour without a single ball touching him. His fingers had hardened to the point where they could penetrate cement with ease. Even steel bars would bend under the force of his strikes.
As for Ayumi, given that she was a young girl, Bartolomeo decided against pushing her toward heavy combat techniques. Instead, he focused on enhancing her agility and speed.
Her mastery of Shave allowed her to move up to two or three meters in an instant, a speed that was monstrous by ordinary standards.
Combined with Moonwalk, Ayumi could leap several meters into the air with a single step. Her nimbleness made her the perfect candidate for stealth and agility-focused roles, akin to a phantom thief.
And so, the training of the Young Detective Team came to an end—not because Bartolomeo deemed their strength sufficient, but because their enthusiasm for training had noticeably waned.
There were two reasons for this.
First, their rate of improvement had slowed, making it harder to see tangible progress.
Second, despite their extraordinary growth, they were still only seven years old. Their minds lacked the maturity to sustain unwavering dedication.
The only thing that had kept them motivated so far was Bartolomeo's repeated encouragement about fighting "for justice."
Fortunately, a timely opportunity arose.
Through Rotom, the surveillance system embedded in his phone, Bartolomeo discovered that the Black Organization was planning a secret joint activity that afternoon.
And as fate would have it, the meeting location was near the Barto Detective Agency.
Bartolomeo saw this as the perfect chance to give his young trainees a taste of real justice.
Not only would it reinvigorate their heroic spirit, but it would also bolster their morale for future training sessions!
...
...
That afternoon, a brand-new car pulled up beside an old warehouse.
Making sure the area was clear, Bartolomeo quickly exited the vehicle, followed closely by Conan and the three children. Together, they slipped into the warehouse without a sound.
"Brother Bartolomeo, are you sure bad guys are really going to show up here?"
Hidden between two large containers, Ayumi's voice quivered with nervousness. She couldn't help but glance at Bartolomeo, hoping to ease the tension she felt in her chest.
"Don't worry," Bartolomeo replied with a confident grin, his eyes fixed on the screen of Rotom's mobile phone in his hand.
On the screen, two glowing dots were steadily approaching their location.
This advanced tracking feature was made possible after Rotom hacked into the nation's satellite systems, using phone numbers to pinpoint exact coordinates.
One of the dots represented Miyano Akemi, a peripheral member of the Black Organization. The other dot belonged to a notorious organization member codenamed Gin.
Some time ago, Bartolomeo's Rotom phone had intercepted critical intelligence about the Black Organization.
According to the information, Miyano Akemi had been negotiating with Gin to trade 1 billion yen in exchange for her and her sister's freedom from the organization.
Gin, ever calculative, had agreed to the deal.
However, what Akemi didn't know was that Gin had no intention of releasing her sister.
Her sister, Miyano Shiho—later known as Ai Haibara—was a pivotal scientist within the organization, working on the development of an elixir. Her value far exceeded the sum of 1 billion yen.
Gin planned to deceive Akemi, take the money, and then kill her.
This tragic betrayal would later drive Miyano Shiho to rebel against the organization, taking the same experimental drug as Conan, shrinking herself into a child, and escaping.
This event marked a pivotal turning point in the Detective Conan storyline—one that anyone traversing this world was bound to encounter.
For many who ventured into this world, saving Miyano Akemi was a key moment. Not only did it lead to interactions with Ai Haibara, a dynamic heroine with both adult and child forms, but it also set the stage for deeper connections to the larger narrative.
But Bartolomeo was different.
Although he had found himself entangled in this plot, his goal wasn't to save anyone.
His purpose today was to add a bit of chaos to this world and make things far more lively.
As the two parties gradually closed in on the warehouse, Bartolomeo's lips curled into a mischievous smile.
He turned to the four children and said, "Alright, the bad guys are almost here. It's time for us to suit up in our combat uniforms!"
"Combat uniforms!?"
The kids were stunned for a moment.
But in an instant, Ayumi and the others were brimming with excitement. The nervous atmosphere dissipated as their eyes lit up with anticipation.
"Combat uniforms? Do you mean those combat uniforms!?" Mitsuhiko asked eagerly.
Bartolomeo nodded, smiling slyly. "That's right! The very ones you're thinking of."
With that, he pulled a belt seemingly out of thin air and fastened it around his waist.
"Masked Superman!" he declared loudly.
"Transform!"
A burst of electricity surged from the belt.
In the blink of an eye, the belt expanded, forming a sleek, form-fitting combat suit that clung to Bartolomeo's body.
The suit featured a white, blue, and yellow helmet; matching white and blue attire with dark blue trousers; white boots; and a vibrant red scarf fluttering dramatically in the wind.
This was Bartolomeo's favorite outfit, inspired by the anime character Masked Superman.
"Wow!"
The children's awe-filled cheers echoed through the warehouse as they watched Bartolomeo transform.
Even Conan, who had grown skeptical of Bartolomeo's antics over time, was left speechless.
Though he already suspected that Bartolomeo wasn't an ordinary person, witnessing him transform into Masked Superman with just a belt was enough to completely shatter Conan's worldview.
For a fleeting moment, Conan even wondered if Masked Superman might actually exist in this bizarre world.
"Wahahahaha!"
Striking a classic Masked Superman pose, Bartolomeo let out a triumphant laugh before pulling out four more belts of different colors. He handed one to each child.
"Quick, put these on and transform before the enemy arrives!" he urged.
"You can pick whichever color you like, but remember—once you choose, this color will represent you for life!"
"Yeah!!!"
The kids were ecstatic. Without hesitation, they eagerly grabbed the belts from Bartolomeo's hands.
Ayumi picked a cute pink belt, Mitsuhiko opted for a calm blue, and Genta chose a sturdy black.
That left only the fiery red belt, which lay beside Conan.
"..."
As the three younger kids excitedly strapped on their belts and shouted, "Masked Superman! Transform!" they, too, underwent unscientific yet thrilling transformations, donning tight-fitting combat uniforms that matched their chosen colors.
Conan, however, hesitated.
Logically, he wanted no part in this ridiculous display. He had no interest in becoming Masked Superman.
But when he noticed the expectant gazes of his four companions, he reluctantly picked up the red belt.
With a deep sigh and a hint of embarrassment, he imitated their poses and shouted:
"Masked Superman!"
"Transform!"
——
[Note: Masked Superman is an OG name but it's literally the same as Kamen Rider or Power Rangers.]