[TL/N: New Book -
Anime Group Chat in a Doomsday World!]
-------
"Wow! Conan-kun, how did you do that!?"
As Director Tsugawa gave up resisting, Conan and the others successfully used the library's public phone to contact the police.
Within moments, several police cars arrived at the scene, their sirens cutting through the night.
Leading the team as always were Inspector Megure and Officer Takagi.
Say what you will about the police force in Japan—they might be a bit ineffective when it comes to solving cases, but their dedication to duty was undeniable. With just one phone call, they'd arrive in full force, ready to provide a reassuring presence.
Though they might not solve the case themselves, they were always there to make people feel safe.
With Conan's guidance and evidence, the police quickly apprehended Director Tsugawa and uncovered a significant stash of drugs hidden in the library.
Thus, the case of the library murder came to a close, its details fully unraveled.
However...
For Conan, the end of the incident didn't mean it was time to relax.
As the saying goes, "You can enjoy the spotlight for a moment, but there's a price to pay afterward."
Conan's exceptional performance had been far too dazzling. Combined with Tsugawa's confession, it left no choice but for Conan to accompany the police to the station for further clarification.
Though he managed to fool the authorities with the classic "The doctor invented it" excuse for his abilities, the same couldn't be said for his close friends.
Ayumi and Genta were easily distracted and didn't think much of it. But Mitsuhiko, the most observant member of the Detective Boys, wasn't so easily deceived.
Outside the Police Station
As Officer Takagi went to retrieve the car to drop the kids home, the group waited near the station's entrance.
Seizing the opportunity, Mitsuhiko leaned in toward Conan, his expression serious.
"Conan, what's going on with your strength?"
"Ah?" Conan blinked, caught off guard by the question.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as Mitsuhiko's sharp gaze bore into him.
"It's just... the power-enhancing shoes the doctor made for me," Conan stammered. "Don't you remember?"
"Impossible!" Mitsuhiko retorted firmly.
"You didn't even turn on the shoes' power that time! And…"
"You opened the metal elevator door with your bare hands!"
"You're definitely hiding something from us, Conan!"
Mitsuhiko's sharp eyes seemed determined to pierce through Conan's façade.
As the most intellectually capable of the Detective Boys, Mitsuhiko's keen observations often set him apart. Though he grew up in an ordinary household, his precocious intellect shone through in moments like this.
Since Conan had joined the group, Mitsuhiko's growth had been the most pronounced. In time, he might even become a proper detective—one leagues ahead of someone like Mori Kogoro.
Under Mitsuhiko's unrelenting stare, Conan's smile twitched awkwardly.
Ayumi and Genta, still basking in the thrill of helping catch a criminal, were suddenly drawn into the conversation by Mitsuhiko's questioning.
"Now that you mention it," Ayumi chimed in, tapping a finger to her cheek, "Conan-kun was acting kind of strange today."
"If it were before, Conan-kun would've told us to run when he realized the director was a killer," she added.
"But today, he didn't seem scared at all. It was like he knew we'd be fine…"
"That's true!" Genta joined in enthusiastically.
"I can't even budge an iron door, but Conan opened it like it was nothing! It's like he's Masked Superman!"
Mitsuhiko's eyes lit up with sudden realization. Taking a step closer to Conan, he asked excitedly, "Wait! Could it be… you've actually become Masked Superman's apprentice, haven't you!?"
"..."
Conan froze, speechless for a moment.
"Ha... ha?" he managed, utterly baffled.
"What are you even talking about?"
Conan hadn't anticipated this conclusion from Mitsuhiko, whose earlier probing had made him genuinely nervous.
Yet, to Conan's dismay, Mitsuhiko's theory was quickly embraced by the others.
"What!? Is this true!?"
Genta stepped protectively in front of Mitsuhiko and stared excitedly at Conan, his eyes wide with anticipation. Beside him, Ayumi looked just as eager, her gaze fixed intently on Conan.
"This... How is that possible?"
Faced with three pairs of innocent, curious eyes, Conan took a step back, a nervous smile crossing his face.
"There's no such thing as Masked Superman in this world," he said lightly. "He's just a character created for TV. It's all special effects and costumes."
"Liar!!!"
The three children shouted in unison, their voices ringing out in protest.
"Masked Superman is real!" Genta declared fiercely.
"Yeah! I even saw him at the mall last time!" Ayumi chimed in.
Conan could only sigh in exasperation. Are you sure the mall didn't just hire an actor to dress up as Masked Superman to attract kids? he thought. But he refrained from saying it aloud, knowing it wouldn't help.
Thankfully, before the conversation could continue, Takagi pulled up in the car, honking twice to signal their ride was here. The car's window slid down, and Takagi called out, "Hey! The car's here—let's go!"
Relieved by the distraction, Conan practically dove into the front passenger seat, quickly fastening his seatbelt. His eagerness to escape only fueled the suspicions of the three children.
Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi exchanged knowing looks, their earlier theory growing even more convincing. Without another word, they climbed into the backseat of the car.
Takagi gave the trio a curious glance in the rearview mirror but didn't say anything. He simply drove them home in silence.
The Next Day
Although Conan dreaded facing the trio's relentless questioning, he had no desire to stay cooped up in the basement filled with painful memories. After confirming it was a school day, he reluctantly grabbed his bag and headed to Teitan Elementary.
To his surprise, the entire day passed without the three bringing up Masked Superman or his supposed connection to the hero.
Maybe they forgot about it, Conan thought, relieved. Kids lose interest in things quickly.
Feeling reassured, he didn't give it much thought. After school, he began his usual walk toward the Barto Detective Agency.
What he didn't notice, however, were the three little heads peeking out from behind a trash can as he passed by. Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi were following him, their movements as stealthy as they could manage.
At the Barto Detective Agency
"You're back?"
Bartolomeo greeted Conan from his desk, where he was engrossed in an episode of Masked Superman.
"Yeah, I'm back," Conan replied, kicking off his shoes and slipping on a pair of indoor slippers.
He walked into the agency's reception room, giving it a quick once-over. Seeing that nothing had changed since he left, he sighed in disappointment.
"What's going on? No cases today?"
"Nope," Bartolomeo replied casually, his attention still fixed on the TV.
For Bartolomeo, this world's low combat capabilities were a bit of a letdown, but he had discovered a passion for its vibrant animations. Masked Superman was a particular favorite, keeping him entertained for hours.
When not helping Conan train or accompanying him on cases, Bartolomeo spent most of his time glued to the TV. The set, a gift from Sonoko, had quickly become his prized possession.
In fact, Bartolomeo's love for Masked Superman had reached the point where one wall of the agency was dedicated to the hero. It displayed an impressive collection of memorabilia—action figures, trading cards, and even limited-edition toys.
He had also invested in multiple Masked Superman costumes for cosplay, each tailored to perfection. For Bartolomeo, the cost of these items was negligible compared to the commission fees they earned—although, truth be told, most of those fees were thanks to Conan's efforts.
But for now, none of that mattered to Bartolomeo, who remained engrossed in the adventures of his favorite TV hero.
...
...
"Go, go, go! Masked Superman! Charge ahead!"
The anime had reached its climax on the television screen, and the excitement in the room was palpable. Bartolomeo, caught up in the moment, jumped to his feet and cheered loudly, keeping rhythm with the energetic theme music blasting from the TV.
"Seriously? Is that really necessary? It's just a kids' show," Conan muttered, a hand pressing against his forehead in exasperation.
Watching Bartolomeo—well past the age for such antics—react so childishly left Conan at a loss for words. He couldn't help but think back to his own school days, surrounded by classmates who were equally obsessed with Masked Superman. Just the memory of it gave him a headache.
For a fleeting moment, Conan found himself missing the quieter days spent at Ran's house. At least then, solving new cases every day brought a certain thrill that kept his mind sharp and fulfilled.
Trying to tune out Bartolomeo, who was now fully engrossed in the TV, Conan picked up the phone with practiced ease and dialed a nearby hotel to place an order for dinner.
But before he could decide what to eat—
Ding-dong!
The sound of the detective agency's doorbell rang out, interrupting his train of thought.
"A client?!" Conan's eyes lit up with excitement. It was as though an invisible antenna had sprung up from his head. He dashed to the door, anticipation written all over his face.
But as soon as he opened it—
"Surprise!!!"
Three familiar faces beamed back at him. The three kids at the door were practically bouncing with excitement as they shouted in unison.
Conan's expression instantly shifted, his hopes dashed. Instead of a new case, it was them—the very people who gave him the most trouble. The light in his eyes dimmed at a visible rate, and he asked in resignation, "How did you even find this place?"
"Hmph!" Mitsuhiko wagged a finger at him smugly. "Conan, I must say, as a Junior Detective League member, you're seriously incompetent!"
"You didn't even notice someone was following you!"
"…?"
Conan could only stare, incredulous. You're the ones who followed me! How am I the one in the wrong here?!
Before he could voice his complaint, Bartolomeo shuffled over from the TV, clearly curious about the commotion.
"What's going on, Conan?" he asked, squinting at the door. "Did you bring another random kid home again?"
Conan bristled. "I told you already! That little girl came by to thank me for saving her from kidnappers! I didn't kidnap her!"
Caught between an overenthusiastic Bartolomeo and the trio of persistent kids, Conan felt the gray clouds of despair hovering over his world.
But then—
"Whoa! Green hair!" Ayumi exclaimed in awe as she noticed Bartolomeo's unique hair color. She quickly followed up with a polite smile. "Hello, big brother! We're Conan-kun's classmates, and we came here to play with him!"
"Oh, is that so? Come on in!" Bartolomeo waved them inside with a grin, unfazed by their sudden arrival.
"Hey, wait a second!" Conan tried to protest, but it was too late. The kids thanked Bartolomeo cheerfully and dashed into the room without hesitation.
With his curiosity satisfied, Bartolomeo returned to his seat and resumed watching Masked Superman.
As the familiar music blared from the TV once more, the kids' attention was immediately drawn to the screen.
"It's Masked Superman!"
Genta's eyes lit up as if he'd just caught the scent of grilled eel rice. He hurriedly slipped off his shoes and bolted toward the desk, where the TV displayed the superhero's latest adventure. The other two followed close behind, their eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Wait a minute! I thought today's episode was postponed for a week. How do you have it already, big brother?" Ayumi asked, her curiosity piqued.
Bartolomeo, far from annoyed, gave a smug grin and flashed a thumbs-up. "Hoho~ This is a special copy of the latest episode. I pulled some strings at the TV station after helping them solve a murder case. Pretty cool, huh?"
"Wow!"
The three kids nodded enthusiastically, their awe plain to see. Soon, they were glued to the screen, hanging on every moment of the episode.
Meanwhile, Conan stared at the scene before him, utterly speechless. Why do they keep following me everywhere?!
With a sigh of defeat, he picked up the phone again and added a few extra dishes to the dinner order. It was clear they weren't leaving anytime soon.
By the time the explosive finale of Masked Superman aired, the food Conan had ordered had already arrived. He handed the payment to the delivery clerk and called into the room, "Dinner's ready!"
"Got it!" Bartolomeo shouted back, and soon enough, the three kids made their way to the dining area.
Laughter and chatter filled the room as they discussed the episode's plot in animated detail. Despite the age gap, Bartolomeo fit right in with the first graders, effortlessly keeping up with their enthusiasm.
Conan could only watch and sigh, resigned to his fate.
After the meal, the group quickly warmed up to one another.
At the dinner table, Ayumi sat perched on a stool meant for adults. Her little legs, clad in white socks, swung back and forth beneath the hem of her skirt, giving her a mischievous yet endearing look.
As she finished her meal and set down her chopsticks, a thought suddenly popped into her mind. She remembered the reason they had come today.
Recalling something Mitsuhiko had mentioned earlier, Ayumi looked up at Bartolomeo and asked sweetly, "Brother Bartolomeo, do you know that Conan-kun has become someone else's disciple?"
"Huh? What do you mean by 'someone else's disciple?'"
Bartolomeo paused, his expression puzzled. "That brat—has he been learning from someone other than me?"
The three kids froze in unison. "!!!"
"Wait, Conan's been training under you, Brother Bartolomeo!?" Mitsuhiko asked eagerly, his eyes widening.
"That's right," Bartolomeo replied without hesitation, picking his teeth casually. Then, in a slightly annoyed tone, he added, "But I'll be honest—this kid's talent is awful."
He shook his head and sighed. "It took me an entire month just to get him to this level. Honestly, it's embarrassing for me as a teacher."
One month to train an ordinary person to this degree…
If his colleagues from the Transdimensional Chamber of Commerce heard about this, they'd probably laugh themselves to tears.
But it couldn't be helped. The limits of this world were painfully low, and that was slowing Conan's progress significantly. The fact that Conan had made it this far was entirely thanks to Bartolomeo's expertly crafted training plan.
However, to Bartolomeo, this was nothing more than an offhand remark.
The three kids, on the other hand, were completely captivated.
"Wait a minute—Brother Bartolomeo, does that mean you're the real-life version of Masked Superman?!"
"Yeah! The guy on TV must be a decoy created by Masked Superman to confuse his enemies!"
"I even saw on the news that Masked Superman has a girlfriend who isn't Natsume Rei! How can Masked Superman fall in love with anyone other than Natsume Rei?"
"Brother Bartolomeo, what do you think about our potential? Can we train with you and learn how to fight too!?"
"Yes! Yes! We want to become superheroes like Masked Superman!"
"..."
"..."
The three kids rambled on excitedly, leaving Bartolomeo—who was still mid-toothpick—completely stunned.
But soon, he pieced it all together.
It turned out the kids had seen Conan in action and were amazed by his strength. They'd jumped to the conclusion that Conan must have been learning combat skills from Masked Superman himself.
I have to admit, Bartolomeo thought to himself, not even someone with a double-digit IQ would make such an absurd assumption.
Still, hearing their enthusiastic chatter gave Bartolomeo an unexpected sense of pride.
Thinking of the heroic battles of Masked Superman from the anime, a sudden idea crossed his mind.
Why not? Maybe I could be a Masked Superman…