Transmigrated into Conan, his ability is Rhodes Island

Leaving aside the fact that Akihara's cool demeanor lasted only three seconds before his car suddenly ran out of gas, and then broke down again halfway after refueling, let's continue to focus our attention on Mr. Amuro Tooru, who is still fighting alone.

[System: It's been abandoned since it was captured and left unused for almost a year. It would be strange if it didn't cause problems!]

Akihara: Although a year has passed outside the book, it's only been two months inside! Don't break the fourth wall so easily!

Amuro Tooru stood quietly at the back of the church, appearing unusually calm, his gaze focused on the priest preaching in front of him.

His hand naturally slipped into his pocket, gripping the police-made cell phone; his slightly trembling fingertips betrayed his inner turmoil.

Just after the bells rang, he, as a volunteer, was supposed to get up and guide the children to the church for morning prayers. His mind still somewhat foggy, he hesitated for a moment, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone.

He should have left as soon as possible, but...

But he had dozens of children behind him.

He recalled his inexplicable experiences since arriving here, and the staff turnover at the orphanage ten years prior. He couldn't imagine what fate awaited the unsuspecting staff and children if he escaped alone.

Toru Amuro doesn't dare to gamble.

So even though his headache was still severe and his vision was still bloodshot, he chose to stay where he was.

Amuro Tooru let out a breath; the movement he had just made seemed to have exhausted most of his strength. He slumped back onto the bed, his hands trembling as he pressed each button on his phone. He dialed Kazami's number.

"Drip-drip-drip-"

Unable to connect, busy signal, or even a regular electrocardiograph machine – all these are just as frustrating as being unable to get through.

Oh no, my thoughts are starting to get all jumbled up… Amuro Tooru hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down.

"Boom boom boom——"

The familiar, unpleasant sound of hurried footsteps hitting the ceiling was even closer this time.

Amuro Tooru could even hear the high-pitched laughter of the girls.

Black, enormous, a shadow, passing by the window, stopping in front of the door.

By the faint morning light streaming through the window, Amuro Tooru could see a writhing, viscous shadow lurking at the doorway. The light seemed to be swallowed by the shadow's boundaries, making the shadow so black it defied the laws of physics. Even though the room was dimly lit due to the lack of artificial lighting, he could still discern the room's outline and the shadows of objects.

Only the shadow lingers at the doorway.

That shadow was far deeper than normal darkness… no, not darkness, it transcended the concept of “black,” like a bottomless abyss, where even the faintest light could not touch its surface. It was not a color, but a void, as if photons themselves had been completely erased from this area, leaving behind a void that could not be detected by the naked eye.

Then it stirred, rustling, and the door was knocked on; the thing wanted to come in.

Amuro Tooru could hear his own heartbeat, breathing, and the rush of blood.

The presence outside the door was far from ordinary, but what about the Jiangling Suo, Ludang Yuyuan?, and the Yuzhuan Yinghua 1?

He gripped the object in his hand tightly; its cold, hard texture brought him a sense of comfort.

A bronze candlestick, seemingly quite old, would be fitting for a place like a church, and it would also be fitting for Amuro Tooru to be in his hands—perhaps it lay on his bedside table, something he casually grabbed for self-defense. It's normal that he has no memory of it, given his current state.

However, the swirling patterns on it are a bit dizzying.

All he had to do was open the door, smash the candlestick in his hand against that thing, and blood would splatter, brains would burst, and it would all be over.

Amuro Tooru stepped to the doorway, the candlestick in his hand as cold as a branding iron, so hot he could barely hold it.

It was over soon.

"瀹夊ゅぇ行灁君

Outside the door, the indescribable monster continued to knock (the author is puzzled; the word "monster" is somewhat inappropriate in the context, perhaps it is some kind of error or special expression, but the original text from Amuro's perspective is retained here), and occasionally let out roars that are difficult to describe in human language.

Amuro Tooru gripped the doorknob, turned it, and the lock clicked crisply as the door opened.

……

Akihara stood on the emergency lane, his expression serious as he stretched out his right arm, thumb pointing upwards, the other four fingers clenched into a fist, trying to flag down a ride.

But clearly, no driver was so compassionate as to stop on the highway to ask what had happened to the unfortunate travelers. He simply stepped on the gas and sped past, the whistling wind whipping up the hair of the other unfortunate soul. Akai Hideyuki lit a cigarette and silently took two steps back.

Akihara Kazumitsu turned his head resentfully: "Freston, are you sure you can't fix a car?"

Shuichi Akai was now completely calm. In fact, if his knit hat had the same function as a balaclava, he'd rather pull it down and transform into a ruthless bandit than embarrass himself with Su Dai on the highway. (Balaclava normal form, bandit form) He took a deep, melancholic drag on his cigarette.

"Is it a requirement to know how to fix cars when joining the organization? Also, who is Freston?"

"……No."

“If that’s the case, then it won’t.” Shuichi Akai flicked his cigarette ash. “So who is Freston?”

Akihara Kazumitsu sighed, walked two steps past Akai Shuichi—making sure he was upwind of him. Then, with his back to the light, he looked northwest and sincerely made the sign of the cross for Amuro Tooru.

Just now in the car, although the reasoning process was very exciting, the actual operation was a different story. The proportions of the image and the length of the shadow were all derived from his visual estimation and some calculations.

Akimoto himself claims he doesn't have the special ability of "my eyes are rulers," otherwise this story would have been renamed "Transmigrated into Conan, My Ability is Advanced Mathematics."

So, although it was confirmed that the church was located near Kyoto, it looked quite different when viewed from above on a map.

This is mainly because the church is hidden by dense trees and its architectural style is quite ordinary. The church was converted from an old house built before or after World War II, and from satellite images with a resolution of no more than 20 or 30 meters, it does not look much different from ordinary houses.

Akihara did circle a few suspicious points according to the mountain's contours. Normally, once they're within the Kyoto Prefecture area, the system should be able to detect them, but now the four-hour drive has been extended indefinitely... Anyway, I hope Amuro Tooru can hold on.

As expected, relying on mountains leads to their demise, and relying on people leads to their downfall... Something seems off, but that's the gist of it.

"Sigh... System, exchange for power."

As Shuichi Akai stubbed out his cigarette, he saw Su Dai walking towards him against the light, a nylon rope and tool bag at his waist, a hydraulic shears in his left hand and a jack in his right, his expression solemn and dignified, almost like...

It's practically like a Syracuse god in charge of car repair. Oh, and it's a modded Javier too.