In Detective Conan: Intercepting Miwako Sato at the Start

Page 120

"Is there a problem, Bourbon?" Shinichi Kurosawa's voice carried a dangerous undertone.

“No…” Bourbon took a deep breath: “I was just wondering if the information he took away had been leaked, and whether we should interrogate him before taking any action.”

“The order is to act directly.” Shinichi Kurosawa stared intently into Bourbon’s eyes. “Are you questioning your superior’s judgment?”

The traitor seemed to see a glimmer of hope and hurriedly interjected, "Yes, I can tell you everything! I can give you back all the intelligence! I know other things too—"

Gunshots rang out, interrupting the traitor's words.

Bourbon pulled the trigger, and the bullet struck the traitor squarely in the forehead.

The latter fell to the ground and stopped moving.

Bourbon lowered his gun, turned to Shinichi Kurosawa, and said calmly, "Mission accomplished."

Shinichi Kurosawa scrutinized Bourbon for a long time before nodding slightly: "Clean up the scene and leave in ten minutes."

Soon, Bourbon walked towards him with a smile, "Cleanup complete, no trace left."

Bourbon smiled faintly, his expression calm, but the smile never reached his eyes.

Shinichi Kurosawa gave a curt reply and turned to walk toward the black Porsche parked in the shadows.

Bourbon followed closely behind, and the two tacitly refrained from exchanging another word until the vehicle drove away from the quiet abandoned area and merged into the empty traffic of Tokyo.

The carriage was silent except for the low rumble of the engine.

Bourbon gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his gaze fixed straight ahead, seemingly focused on driving.

Shinichi Kurosawa leaned back in the passenger seat, closing his eyes to rest, but his taut jawline showed that he was not relaxed.

Half an hour later, the Porsche veered off the main road and drove into a secluded seaside park.

In the stillness of the night, the park was deserted, with only the distant streetlights casting dim yellow halos in the damp sea breeze and the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the embankment.

Bourbon brought the car to a stop and turned off the engine.

He didn't get out of the car immediately. Instead, he unbuckled his seatbelt, turned to Shinichi Kurosawa, and the smile on his face had long since disappeared, replaced by a complex seriousness.

"Alright, it's quiet enough here." Shinichi Kurosawa opened his eyes, his gaze sharp in the darkness. "Tell me, what were you hesitating about just now?"

Bourbon did not avoid his gaze and said frankly, "That traitor, Ethan Clark, he was in charge of some of the organization's funding channels in Kansai, and he did a pretty good job."

“I just think it might be a waste to execute him before he reveals all his secrets,” Paul said after a moment of hesitation. “Of course, I’m not questioning your orders.”

"Waste?" Shinichi Kurosawa scoffed, pushed open the car door and got out, the sea breeze immediately blowing his silver hair.

Leaning against the hood of the car, Shinichi Kurosawa lit a cigarette, the crimson flame flickering in the night.

“An order is an order. You don’t need to weigh the considerations behind it. Bourbon, as a member of the organization, you have only one responsibility: to obey the orders announced from above. And... your hesitation today is dangerous.”

Bourbon also got out of the car and stood opposite him, looking at him through the swirling smoke.

"Danger? For you, or for myself?"

“To everyone.” Shinichi Kurosawa exhaled a smoke ring, his eyes icy. “You know the organization’s ironclad rules better than I do. Any unnecessary pity or… personal judgment could become a fatal weakness. If you doubt an execution order today, won’t you doubt others tomorrow?”

“I’m just thinking about how to make things better for the organization,” Bourbon emphasized, a hint of tension in his voice. “We’re not just machines that know how to execute.”

“But we must,” Shinichi Kurosawa interrupted him, his tone resolute. “Especially at a time like this. Gin hates nothing more than complications and uncontrolled ‘thoughts’.”

Staring at Bourbon, Kurosawa Shinichi said pointedly, "You had some strange thoughts today, which may have already attracted attention. I reminded you to tone it down."

Upon hearing the name "Gin," Bourbon's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.

He was silent for a moment, then spoke again, his voice much lower: "I know. Thank you for reminding me."

The sea breeze brought a touch of saltiness and coolness.

The atmosphere between the two was somewhat tense.

After a while, Bourbon suddenly changed the subject, his tone becoming more relaxed, but his eyes remained deep: "Speaking of which, you've been making a lot of moves lately, practically wiping out all the restless little rats in the Kanto region. The higher-ups are very satisfied."

Shinichi Kurosawa flicked his cigarette ash noncommittally: "It's my duty."

"Yes, it's my duty."

Bourbon repeated himself, took a step forward, and moved closer to Shinichi Kurosawa, so close that they could feel each other's breath.

“But sometimes I wonder, with your efficiency and… ruthlessness in carrying everything out, have you never had any questions? About everything we do, about this organization…”

His voice was very soft, almost disappearing into the sea breeze, but every word clearly reached Shinichi Kurosawa's ears.

This was an extremely bold, even dangerous, experiment.

Shinichi Kurosawa suddenly looked up, his sharp gaze slicing through Bourbon like a scalpel, and the surrounding air seemed to instantly drop to freezing point.

He stubbed out his cigarette, his voice low and warning:

"Bourbon."

Just two words, yet they carry immense weight.

“There are some boundaries you should never try to cross. Curiosity not only killed the cat,” Shinichi Kurosawa leaned forward, almost nose-to-nose with Bourbon, and said, enunciating each word clearly, “it can also lead to… utter ruin.”

Under his intense gaze, Bourbon showed no fear. Instead, a cryptic smile slowly crept onto his face, carrying a hint of self-mockery, a touch of understanding, and an indescribable resolve.

“Yes, utterly doomed…” he repeated softly, taking a step back and widening the distance again, as if the dangerous probing had never happened.

"I understand. Let's go back, it's getting late."

Chapter 147 Yuuki Takada's Disguise

The sea breeze seemed to freeze at that moment, the salty, damp air became heavy, pressing down on everyone's nerves.

Bourbon's enigmatic smile still lingered on his face, and Kurosawa Shinichi's cold warning still echoed in his ears, but a tension that was about to erupt had replaced the previous dangerous probing.

Just as Bourbon was heading towards the car door, seemingly about to end the conversation, Shinichi Kurosawa suddenly moved.

His movements were as fast as a ghost, without warning, and one hand suddenly gripped Bourbon's throat like an iron clamp!

That wasn't a question, nor a warning, but a brutal and merciless killing move.

Bourbon's pupils contracted sharply. His instincts, honed from years of walking on the edge of danger, allowed him to react almost at the same moment that Shinichi Kurosawa's shoulder twitched.

He jerked to the side and leaned back, narrowly avoiding the fatal grab. He could even feel the sharp, cold wind emanating from the other's fingertips.

"You...!" Bourbon only managed to utter one word before Shinichi Kurosawa's fierce kick followed closely behind, aimed directly at his knee joint. The force was so great that if the kick landed, it would be enough to instantly disable his mobility.

Bourbon had to retreat continuously, parrying and deflecting the sudden and fierce attack.

His face darkened completely, and his previous complex emotions were replaced by focused vigilance and icy anger.

"No way! Are you crazy?!"

Shinichi Kurosawa did not answer Bourbon's question; his attack was like a storm, silent yet highly effective.

Every punch and kick was aimed straight for vital points, filled with the organization's usual style, abandoning all fancy killing techniques.

His eyes remained cold, even more vacant than before; Kurosawa Shinichi was simply carrying out a cleanup procedure.

boom!

Boom!

In the dim light, amidst the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the two engaged in a fierce battle.

The movements were so fast that only blurry shadows remained; the dull thuds of fists and feet clashing broke the silence of the night.

Bourbon initially thought this was a punishment warning from Shinichi Kurosawa for his previous probing, but he soon realized that something was not quite right.

Although Shinichi Kurosawa's attack pattern was familiar, bearing traces of the organization's standard close-quarters combat techniques and incorporating some of his usual tricks, there was still a slight sense of incongruity.

The way he used force and the way he connected certain moves seemed to lack the smoothness and experience of the Shinichi Kurosawa he had recently encountered, and instead appeared more deliberate and stiff.

It's like perfectly replicating a set of movements, but lacking the killing instinct deep in your soul, the muscle memory formed through countless trials.

Moreover, the opponent's purpose was too singular; they only wanted to subdue the other party. They completely lacked the scrutinizing and evaluative, even playful, coldness that Shinichi Kurosawa displayed in battle.

The "Shinichi Kurosawa" before me is definitely not as simple as I imagined. To put it simply, he is more like a machine that has been programmed to fight me.

A bold and startling guess quickly took shape in Bourbon's mind.

The opportunity arose during a close-quarters grappling match.

Bourbon deliberately created an opening, luring his opponent into using a joint lock technique that Shinichi Kurosawa often used and that was extremely difficult to defend against.

As expected, the other party fell for the trap, and their arm coiled around him like a venomous snake.

However, just before the chains were about to take shape, Bourbon, with his deep understanding of Shinichi Kurosawa's fighting style, broke free in a way that was almost premonition.

At the same time, his right hand moved like lightning, not attacking vital points, but directly tearing at the opponent's face!

"Shoot-"

and many more……

This is the sound of leather tearing—subtle yet clear.

Bourbon's fingers precisely ripped off the black leather mask the other person was wearing.

By the dim glow of the streetlights overhead, Bourbon could clearly see that the face exposed to the air was an impeccably handsome one.

His jawline was sharp and well-defined, his nose was high and straight, and his thin lips were tightly pressed together, creating a strikingly handsome appearance.

The eyes that were now staring coldly at Bourbon had a unique, somewhat sinister gleam in the dim light.

Beneath Shinichi Kurosawa's face, Bourbon had unintentionally seen him many times, and just an hour before, he had clearly seen the person in front of him.

Now, all the doubts are coming together.

During the mission tonight, that slight hesitation was keenly detected, but the real Shinichi Kurosawa would never have noticed it.

Or perhaps it would be handled in a more direct way, judging by the somewhat abrupt questioning in the car and the fighting style that was more about execution than instinct at this moment...

Bourbon suddenly leaped back a large step, completely disengaging from the battle.

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, but his eyes were sharp as a hawk's, staring intently at "Shinichi Kurosawa," who had also stopped moving and was expressionless.

"You're not Shinichi Kurosawa..." Bourbon's voice was slightly hoarse from the fight, but his tone was unusually certain, carrying an undeniable coldness, "Who exactly are you?"

Until you can clearly see the other person's movements

"How could it be you...?"

"Instructor Hennessy".