Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

“I suspect that Zhiti’s wishful thinking boils down to two possibilities,” Lao Hei calmly analyzed to Baijiu. “The first possibility is that you died on the train.”

“And the second possibility is that you killed Rum.” Old Black paused deliberately, raising his voice: “Whichever it is, the intelligent entity wins.”

In an instant, Baijiu's right eyebrow twitched.

His empty, lifeless eyes suddenly lit up again, like a lost soul who had been walking alone in the snow for a long time, not a torch appearing in his hand.

Instead, dozens of torches appeared in his hands.

Baijiu's lips parted slightly, revealing a small slit: "Old Hei..."

"You truly are my old friend," Baijiu said sincerely, raising his arm and naturally placing it on Lao Hei's shoulder, patting him gently. "Your analysis is spot on."

"Get the key," Old Hei said in a low voice.

His gaze grew increasingly resolute, like that of a knight determined to die, embarking on a path of no return.

Old Hei whispered in Baijiu's ear, "Get off the train as soon as possible. You must come back alive."

“Then…” Old Black said, word by word, “Don’t kill Rum.”

"Whatever you do, don't kill this man who knows the secret. I'm emphasizing it again, don't think I'm being nagging." Old Hei remained serious.

"This is the most verbose I've ever been. Even if I don't say it, someone will patiently repeat it to you again and again."

Old Black subconsciously glanced at Vermouth, who was silently stroking her nails beside him.

“He’s right.” Vermouth didn’t shy away from the question, but nodded in agreement.

“I have never denied or interrupted anything you have said.” Baijiu calmly crossed his hands: “I have never interrupted even McCarran.”

"Is this a final burst of energy before death?" Baijiu joked, a rare occurrence for him. "Everyone has suddenly become so polite, as if this is the last time we'll meet."

“Who can be sure?” McClane didn’t pick up on the topic of liquor, nor did he spout his usual nonsensical nonsense: “Just like Grace.”

“I’ve never even met her in real life.” McClane’s tone turned cold and regretful once again.

Seeing this, Lao Hei continued speaking the second half of his sentence: "In short, baijiu (Chinese liquor)."

Old Hei patted Baijiu on the shoulder meaningfully: "Don't deviate from our plan."

"Wait!" McCallum suddenly shouted.

Everyone instinctively touched their chests, trying to calm their frightened emotions.

"My God... did someone step on your tail?" Old Black muttered under his breath.

It feels like you've been exhausted all day and are just about to drift off to sleep, having only been dreaming for less than three seconds, when suddenly twenty firecrackers go off.

"What's wrong?" Baijiu and Vermouth asked in unison.

Especially Vermouth, who did not immediately blame him, but instead, with her strong mental fortitude, stood by McCallum's side the moment he screamed.

Her hair smelled of perfume, and she asked softly yet somewhat coldly, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Don't tell me something unexpected happened." Vermouth squinted.

“It…it’s broken.” McCallen held his head in his hands, staring at the disguise machine he had spent six months developing, which was emitting gray smoke and had a burnt smell in the air.

"The machine is broken." Baijiu looked at the damaged machine, seemingly used to it, so much so that he didn't show much reaction.

"Yes...yes, I don't know why...of all times it had to fail me." McCallen stood with her legs turned inward and her hands clenched tightly together.

Right now, he's just like a primary school student who's lost his mind because he's late. He has no thoughts of eating or sleeping, and all he can think about is the end of the world.

"The wiring is burnt out." Baijiu picked up the charred wire.

“Yes…” McCallum lifted the machine: “Everything was perfectly fine when we were making the White Widow mask… but when we were making it for you, it…”

"How could it short-circuit!" McCallen clutched his head, his eyes filled with guilt. He had tried his best, he had tried his best to ensure that nothing went wrong.

“I could have made you the mask and then let it break! Why did it break so completely?” McCallen felt increasingly desperate.

But the accident still happened.

He felt devastated and desperate, and fell into deep doubt: was he born never to be able to do something truly beautiful?

I had already tested this hundreds of times beforehand.

Unfortunately, something went wrong this time...

"Do you have a way to fix it?" Vermouth asked, lifting her long eyelashes. "Don't droop your head. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"At worst, I can help Baijiu disguise himself." Vermouth looked at the box that was sparking.

"There's no time left." Baijiu looked down at the time on his wrist. "It's unrealistic to fix this machine now; it will take at least a week."

“Besides, there’s less than an hour before departure. If I ask you to disguise me, there simply won’t be enough time. It’s too rushed,” Baijiu said calmly.

“I can disguise you as quickly as possible.” Vermouth did not approve of Baijiu boarding the train with this face.

It's no less extreme than having a person covered in blood jump into a swimming pool full of sharks for an hour and ensuring they come out alive.

“I know what you’re thinking, Vermouth.” This was one of the few times that Old Black didn’t side with Vermouth, and it was the first time he had contradicted her idea.

“…” Vermouth wanted to say something, but she kept her words to herself.

"Baijiu, you have to bite the bullet and go for it this time," Lao Hei said gravely.

“Are you crazy, Old Black!” McClane did not agree with Old Black’s idea: “And you, Vermouth, how come you are unusually calm and composed this time?”

McClane quickly poked himself with his finger: "Even an idiot like me can see how serious the consequences are. Right now, everyone on the platform is looking for Baijiu and you!"

"This mask is no less important than his train ticket! Without this ticket, he couldn't even board this train! Let alone destroy the intelligent entity!"

McCallen makes perfect sense; neither the white wine nor the black man could find any point of rebuttal.

Baijiu stood there, lost in thought.