Vermouth narrowed her eyes, carefully observing Jiangxia Tongzhi's subtle expressions.
…Something was off.
From her past investigations, both the Organization and the police had come up empty on Kudo Shinichi's body. No confirmation of death. No closure.
But now, Ouzo was confidently declaring, "Kudo Shinichi is dead."
Even stranger, he'd shown no reaction at all when Kudo was brought up—no nervousness, no hostility. Just calm acceptance.
That was suspicious.
A possibility began to take shape in her mind. Maybe… maybe Kudo was still alive. And this so-called optimistic cadre, who happened to live next door to him, had somehow found out and was now trying to cover it up. From her.
A sudden joy welled up in Vermouth's heart.
Across the small table, Jiangxia caught the subtle flicker of emotion in her reflection on the glossy surface and was pleased with himself.
—Not a single secret had slipped out of his mouth. Everything Vermouth "deduced" had come from her own paranoid spiral.
Even if she played back this entire conversation to the Organization, all they'd hear was a loyal cadre parroting faith in Gin's infallibility: "Of course Kudo Shinichi is dead. Gin handled it."
He'd played his part. Now it was time for the next step.
Jiangxia mentally flipped through his "Recruiting Vermouth Manual"—right, time to just... do nothing. Let her bask in the spooky vibes of his ghost parents for a while and maybe mellow out.
…
Across from him, Vermouth leaned in, testing her theory:
"Dead? But I heard some kids at your school say he's just off working a case. Too busy to come back. Even if that's just a rumor, it has to be based on something, right?"
Her stare bore into him, sharp and unrelenting.
Jiangxia looked up, gave her a blank glance—
Then suddenly yawned.
He set aside his wine glass, slowly collapsed onto the table, and closed his eyes like someone gently shutting down a laptop for the night.
Vermouth: "…?"
Did he… just fall asleep mid-confrontation??
Get up and answer me, you bitch!
She leaned over the table and gave him a push.
Jiangxia shifted slightly, turned his head the other way, and refused to acknowledge her existence.
Vermouth: "…"
Her fists clenched, and her canine teeth clicked together. Honestly, she regretted drinking so fast earlier. She hadn't calibrated for this level of shameless behavior.
But what was she supposed to do now? The man had used the ultimate counterattack: strategic napping. It was nearly unbeatable.
She stood up, annoyed, and prepared to leave.
But just as she reached for her bag, she caught a glimpse of two nearby elegantly dressed ladies subtly turning toward the table.
Vermouth's expression froze.
From the slight movements of their hands and shifts in posture, she instantly knew: the moment she left, they'd swoop in like gossipy vultures.
Vermouth: "…"
She looked from Jiangxia to the ladies, then back again. For the first time in a long while, she felt... stuck.
…
A minute later.
Vermouth inhaled deeply, circled around to Jiangxia's side, and reached out to pull him up.
It wasn't that she cared if he got scammed or dragged into some ghost nonsense. What worried her was that, in a half-drunken daze, he might accidentally blurt out something about the Organization.
She'd just steeled herself for the grab when Jiangxia suddenly opened his eyes, stood up, and nodded politely.
"Thanks for the drinks. I had a good time today."
Then he walked straight out of the bar.
"…?"
Vermouth's outstretched hand hung in the air for a moment before slowly lowering. A vein popped on her forehead.
…
At the bar's front desk, the receptionists gave Jiangxia that special look reserved for people who had clearly snuck in unnoticed.
Jiangxia ignored them and pushed the door open.
He glanced at his phone. After thinking for a second, he turned and headed to a nearby hotel instead of going home.
It was still early—check-in hadn't hit peak hours. Just one receptionist stood behind the desk.
Jiangxia approached, took out some cash, and slid it across. "No reservation. Any room is fine."
No ID required. The only available room was one with a king-sized bed.
The receptionist handed him a card, still slightly dazed.
She watched him walk off, noting the faint smell of alcohol and his youthful face.
Is he even twenty? Isn't that… illegal drinking?
And then, right as Jiangxia stepped into the elevator, a tall, long-legged woman in heels swooped in like a gust of wind, slipping inside just before the doors closed.
Receptionist: "?!"
Two other elevators stood idle on the same floor. Why pick the one that already had someone in it?
The receptionist replayed Jiangxia's face, then Vermouth's borderline stalker vibe. Her hand hovered over the phone, hesitating between pressing "1" or "0."
…
While the receptionist was caught in her heroic dilemma—
Inside the elevator, Jiangxia glanced at Vermouth, noted the bit of murder in her aura, and gave her a pointed, disapproving look.
"Do you need something?"
"Not really. Just tired," Vermouth leaned lazily against the elevator wall. Her gaze swept up his legs, paused at his pocket, and landed on the keycard. She smiled. "We're colleagues, aren't we? Let's share that king-sized bed."
…
Earlier, Vermouth's plan had been simple: lure Jiangxia out, interrogate him, and if needed—terminate.
But what she'd uncovered didn't match her earlier assumptions. Ouzo hadn't been targeting Ran Mouri or harming Kudo Shinichi… if anything, the guy was annoyingly hard to read.
She still wasn't convinced they were on the same side. But she couldn't risk leaving things vague—not when it involved the "cool guy" and the "angel." She needed confirmation—clear evidence of Jiangxia's loyalties—before making any decisions.
The elevator arrived.
Jiangxia didn't respond. He strode out the moment the doors opened, not even looking back.
Vermouth walked out with him and, in an impressively shameless move, "accidentally" tripped and bumped into him.
Jiangxia, likely still feeling the booze, stumbled. He frowned, steadied himself, shoved her away, and kept walking toward his room.
Vermouth chuckled softly, but didn't follow.
She opened her hand and looked down at what she'd acquired: two phones.
Jiangxia's phones.
…
Inside the hotel room, Jiangxia's first move was to empty all the alcohol from his system.
That ridiculous cocktail from earlier—hard liquor topped off with carbonated nonsense—could probably knock out a bear. No wonder Vermouth thought he was drunk.
He patted his pocket. Empty. Phone was gone. Oh well.
Not a big deal—neither phone had anything risky in it.
Important messages were shredded using the special Black tech plugin courtesy of Professor Agasa. The only vaguely dangerous thread was Haibara Ai—but she never signed her texts, didn't speak like an Organization member, and never called.
Vermouth might suspect something from the contact list alone, but unless she got very lucky…
…He'd just knock her out in disguise before she found anything. Serves her right for going through other people's stuff.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 13/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*