Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Now, the liquor is gone.

He allowed himself, briefly, to be an ordinary person again, a flesh-and-blood person facing death, with flesh and blood and fear.

But this vulnerability lasted for less than three seconds.

00:19

The green countdown flashed coldly.

Old Hei blinked hard, forcibly suppressing all the emotions in his eyes back to the deepest part of his heart, locking them away.

He lowered his head again, his gaze falling on the bomb's most crucial and dangerous final safety mechanism.

His gaze returned to sharpness, focus, and complete calm.

He picked up the miniature endoscope and insulated tweezers, his movements still steady and precise, as if the brief moment of lapse in composure had never happened.

He examined carefully and analyzed meticulously, his fingers steady without trembling at all.

“Rum…” He spoke in a very low voice as he operated the device, as if talking to himself or whispering to some invisible enemy, his voice carrying a cold, all-knowing mockery and certainty, “You bastard… You think that by taking the virus flash memory and controlling part of the ‘intelligent entity’s’ permissions, you can do whatever you want?”

He found the last electronic lock, which was hidden very deep, physically connected to the main detonator, but controlled by an independent circuit.

This is the source of Rum's confidence—even if the conventional detonator is removed, this lock can still detonate the bomb if triggered.

But Old Black laughed.

It was an extremely slight arc, yet full of pride and understanding.

"You can forget about escaping the clutches of the 'Computer Buster'."

"Computer Buster".

This is a secret name known only to a very few insiders, referring to Lao Hei's pinnacle achievements in electronic warfare and precision hacking.

Rum may know that Old Black is good at defusing bombs, but he may not truly understand how terrifying Old Black is in electronic mazes and logical traps.

Old Hei put down all his tools.

He doesn't need them anymore.

He stretched out his right hand, not to grab the insulated pliers, but to precisely and steadily place the tips of his index and middle fingers against the two extremely tiny test contacts exposed by the electronic lock, less than a millimeter apart.

He was not wearing any protective gear.

Direct skin contact.

He was using his body's bioelectrical resistance, combined with the extremely subtle and controllable trembling frequency of his fingertips, to simulate a specific, invalid "error signal" used to deceive the electronic lock's self-test program.

This is not the method described in the technical manual.

This is art, talent, and the most extreme and dangerous resonance between humans and machines, forged through countless brushes with death.

His breathing was perfectly steady, and his heartbeat seemed to adjust to a specific frequency with the slight trembling of his fingertips. Fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead and slid down his calm profile.

00:05

00:04

Time seems to have frozen.

00:03

Old Hei's eyes suddenly narrowed! The frequency of his fingertips trembling underwent an extremely subtle change!

"drop."

A barely audible click, the sound of the relay inside the electronic lock snapping open.

The red indicator light on the screen, which represents the status of the electronic lock, went out.

00:02

It became.

Old Hei immediately stopped, picked up the specially made insulated shears that were prepared next to him without hesitation, and aimed at the thickest red main cable that connected the main detonator capacitor and the plutonium core compression device.

No hesitation.

No goodbye.

His eyes were calm as an ancient well, yet deep within them burned a flame of unwavering resolve, a flame that had fulfilled its ultimate mission.

"Click."

A crisp and clear sound.

The blades of the insulating shears closed, precisely cutting the cable.

00:01

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at that moment.

Then--

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

It wasn't the earth-shattering nuclear explosion that had been expected.

Instead, it was a dull, massive, and continuous rumble of collapse coming from beneath our feet and from the depths of the tunnel structure in all directions!

Like the dying struggle and furious roar of a giant beast from the earth!

The entire upper space of the pumping station shook violently, the concrete at the top began to crack, and dust and gravel fell like a torrential rain!

The thick pipe twisted and broke, spraying out high-pressure jets of water and steam!

The nine conventional detonators experienced small-scale, asynchronous sympathetic detonations the instant the circuitry was completely destroyed. Although the power was far from enough to trigger a nuclear explosion, the combined effect with the already fragile structure completely destroyed the balance here!

The earth trembled, and space collapsed.

The liquor was flowing wildly through the passage.

He had already rushed a long distance ahead, and the entrance to the pumping station behind him had long since disappeared around the corner.

But just as he was about to reach the last flight of stairs leading to the ground—

The ground beneath their feet suddenly trembled!

Immediately following was a deafening, heart-stopping, terrifying roar that seemed to come from the depths of hell, surging in from the end of the passage behind us!

Accompanying the loud bang was an incredibly violent shaking that almost made it impossible to stand up!

Large amounts of dust and debris fell from the tunnel walls overhead, and the lights flickered and went out wildly!

Baijiu's body was jolted forward, but he immediately braced himself against the wall and regained his balance.

He didn't look back.

Even though the ear-piercing screams of twisting and breaking steel and concrete came from behind, and even though they could feel the scorching air and the heavy smell of dust rolling in through the passage.

He gritted his teeth and swallowed the liquid that welled up in his mouth—whether it was blood or some other fishy-sweet liquid, he couldn't tell.

The last glimmer of tears in her eyes was completely obscured by the violent shaking and the rushing dust.

He didn't dare to look back.

He feared that if he turned around, he would see the darkness and destruction that devoured everything.

He feared that if he turned back, he would never be able to take the next step to leave.

He was afraid that if he turned around, he would disappoint those calm and determined eyes that had "pushed" him out.

"Ugh—!" He let out a suppressed roar, whether from grief or exertion, he stomped his feet and, no longer caring about the shaking ground and falling rubble, like an arrow pouncing on its prey, he ran wildly towards the faint light above the stairs ahead, using the last of his strength!

I could feel the scorching heat wave approaching from behind.

You can hear terrifying sounds like boulders rolling down and pipes bursting.

You can smell the heavy dust, gunpowder smoke, and... a certain smell of ending.

But he just ran, ran desperately, pouring all his emotions and all his strength into his legs.

Almost there! We're almost there!

"call--!!!"

Finally, he rushed up the last few steps and smashed open the half-closed, rusty iron door that led to the darkness below!

A cool night breeze, carrying the moisture of the Thames, instantly swept over me, washing away the heat and dust behind me.

He staggered out the door and came to the empty riverbank. Due to inertia, he fell forward and braced his hands on the cold, damp ground, coughing and gagging violently.

And behind him—

"Boom——!!!"

A large section of the riverbank where the pump station entrance is located suddenly collapsed!

Bricks, mud, and twisted metal mixed with billowing dust, like erupting volcanic ash, forming a huge, churning column of grayish-yellow smoke that shot straight into the night sky! The shockwave made the windows of nearby buildings rattle, and the river surface rippled violently.

The collapse lasted for more than ten seconds before gradually subsiding.

All that remained was a shocking, deep pit, still emitting wisps of smoke and dust, and lingering dust in the air.

Bai Jiu lay sprawled on the ground, his back to the scene of destruction, his shoulders heaving violently, each breath carrying the scent of dust and blood. He didn't look up, he didn't look.

Until the deafening collapse completely disappeared, only the howling of the night wind and the faint sound of distant, alarmed police sirens remained.

He slowly, extremely slowly, used his hands to support himself as he stood up.

Turn around.

Facing the deep pit that swallowed Old Black and buried a bond of life and death, and the pervasive dust and smoke that seemed to never dissipate.

The dust slowly drifted away, some of it blown towards the river by the night wind, while some, as if alive, spread towards the direction where he stood, gradually enveloping and blurring his solitary figure.

He didn't flinch, but stood there quietly, letting the cold dust fall on his hair, shoulders, his blood-stained and tattered suit, and into his dry, stinging eyes.

There was no expression on his face.

Only in the depths of those eyes, reflecting the dust of ruins and the distant city lights, something had died completely, and something colder and harder, like a smelted alloy, was slowly taking shape in the ashes.

He took one last look at the deep pit, as if to etch this scene, along with that person, into his heart forever.

Then, he raised his hand and wiped away the grime on his face, a mixture of blood, tears, and dust, with a swift motion.

Turn around.

Take a step.

Without pausing, the figure resolutely disappeared into the deep, boundless London night.

He left behind the sorrow, the ruins, and the last words, "For those I have never met," along with the place where Old Black rests forever, in the ever-churning dust.

The road ahead is still long.

Rum is still somewhere.

The shadow of intelligent beings still looms large.

The Sevastopol remained silent in the deep sea.

The horseshoe awaits to see the light of day again.

Baijiu, the man who has just lost his last comrade-in-arms whom he could completely trust, will bear the blood debt and mission of two people alone as he heads into the next storm, which may be even more brutal.

The night wind whipped up dust from the riverbank, whimpering as if it were lamenting the deceased, or perhaps bidding farewell to the living.