Oritis in the world of Detective Conan

Karasuma Renye calmly asked Rum to move him out of the car, as if he wanted to say something to Oletus and the others.

"Master Melody, I have seen you behind many events in many places, including those unusual cases and some destroyed laboratories."

"I didn't expect Mr. Karasuma to pay so much attention to me. What do you want to do by saying this now?" The photographer replied with a forced smile.

"Of course we will cooperate. Haven't you been seeking eternal youth and wealth? You have even partially succeeded! I know you also have the ability to maintain youthful body functions, but that's not perfect enough, right? As long as we cooperate, even resurrecting the dead can be done easily!" Karasuma Renya's face, as old as a tree, trembled.

The photographer looked at Karasuma Renye with some interest: "Oh? Then I wonder how Mr. Karasuma plans to cooperate with me?"

"You are a senior executive of Oritis. As long as you promise to hand over the information about the abyss to me, I can also give you the research information about the immortality potion." There was a hint of fanaticism on Uramaru Renye's face, and he seemed to be fascinated by the power of the abyss.

When the slideshow master heard this, his eyes widened. "How shameless! Compared to the Abyss, your information is nothing but waste paper."

"Little girl, don't underestimate my research in this area. It's absolutely unmatched in the world!" Karasuma Renye looked at the photographer. "Well, Mr. Melody, I think I'm sincere enough."

"Oh, he called me a little girl." The magic lantern artist didn't seem to want to argue.

Most of the people living in the manor are from the 19th century. Their physical appearance hasn't changed since arriving at the manor, and their only way to keep track of time is with the calendar provided by Miss Nightingale. Therefore, if we calculate the age of the people in the manor according to Conan's world, the average age is probably over 100 years old, not counting the "deceased" supervisors and the ancient gods whose ages are completely unmeasurable.

"I don't see your sincerity, Karasuma Renya." The photographer crossed his arms, looking nonchalant. "We in Oletus can easily wipe out the Black Organization and then search for information on the immortality potion you mentioned. You don't have the capital to negotiate with us right now."

"Even if you've been rejuvenated once, you're still not as old as me. In the pursuit of immortality, you're my junior, so I'm thinking of negotiating with you. If you kill me now, those materials will be gone forever!"

Rum, who was trembling with fear on the side, saw that Olitis and the others seemed to have extremely shocked expressions after Karasuma Renya said this.

Karasuma Renya called the photographer his junior? Holy crap, this guy is totally outrageous. In Oletus Manor, the photographer is considered the oldest, aside from the two gods. The other older ones are Queen Mary's Red Lady, the aging Mad Eyes, and the long-dead, resurrected Umbrella brothers.

Sure enough, after hearing Karasuma Renya's tone of "promoting the younger generation", the photographer's expression began to become uneasy: "Junior? Karasuma Renya, you seem to underestimate me too much. Let me be frank, even at your current age, I can still call you a young person. After all, I have experienced the period of change in France..."

"What?" Before Karasuma Renya could say anything, Rum was shocked. He had previously researched the Melody family's information and assumed the photographer was, at best, a "former head of the family" who had undergone a rejuvenation. He had never imagined that this "current head of the family" had always been the head of the family.

So you've been the head of the Melody family since your ancestors? Rum's eyes twitched. Wasn't the person across from him an old monster who had lived for hundreds of years? My master's age was really not comparable to this person's.

Rum thought they could only hope the photographer had cultivated his character over the past few hundred years and wouldn't resort to such drastic measures. After all, they still had a modicum of value, didn't they? The more Rum thought about it, the more nervous he became, not even daring to look at the photographer's expression.

"Mr. Karasuma, now you understand how foolish your self-righteous behavior is. I have painstakingly studied the path to immortality for a hundred years, and in my eyes, you are nothing more than a toddler who has just embarked on this journey."

"The longevity technology you're so proud of is nothing but a joke to me. It's just like an old man on the verge of death, struggling like a drowning man, trying to grasp at the last straw. But when you grasp that straw that seems to bring you back to shore, you realize that it will only lead you to another quagmire."

The recorder diligently recorded everyone's reactions. After pausing, she turned to the photographer and said, "Today's recording is complete. We can proceed to the next step of the trial."

"Well, do you two have anything else to say?" The wax artist gently stroked his sister's hand on his shoulder, and the profile of the criminal in his hand was already completed.

Rum held the handle of Karasuma Renye's wheelchair. He felt that the handle was extremely slippery and difficult to grasp. After a closer look, he found that it was the sweat in his palms that wet the handle.

"Boss... do we still have a chance?" Rum asked this question with difficulty. He felt like something was strangling his throat, and the sound of his words was like the friction between two rusty gears stuck together.

After hearing the photographer's words, Karasuma Renya fell silent. His years of hard work and pursuits were belittled by the photographer, who seemed to possess the ability to belittle him. He panted, peering through his life support kit at the photographer's youthful face, then feeling his own body, which felt like a withered tree.

He felt that he was an old man on the verge of death, and that he had to give everything to retain that little bit of youth and vitality, and kept running on the road to eternal life. However, the photographer was a devil who came to laugh at him after possessing infinite youth.

Karasuma Renya's old face was distorted. He was jealous and angry. He had paid so much, why didn't he get the gift of fate?

"Maybe it's because you're not 'unfortunate' enough. This is such a wonderful joke." The wax artist, who saw what Karasuma Renya was thinking, said sarcastically.

After a moment of silence, Karasuma Renya's expression returned to calm. His old voice slowly came: "Where is Vermouth? Did you capture her?"

"She's fine. She doesn't have to worry about this twisted fate catching up with her anymore." The recorder took out the file again. She felt that today's review process was a bit long.

"Really? You actually let her go?" A gleam of light flashed in Karasuma Renya's cloudy eyes. "I can offer something more valuable than her, as long as you can let me live!"

"I thought you would come for hospice care, but it turns out you're still searching for chips to survive. How boring." The photographer looked at Karasuma Renya coldly.

Honestly, if Karasuma Renya had just said something about caring for Vermouth, the photographer might have considered letting him achieve his dream of eternal life in the Abyss Museum (and also gain eternal part-time work). However, for now, it seems that he is still suitable to be hung on the wall as an exhibit.