Transmigrated into Conan, his ability is Rhodes Island

"Now, let's talk about the vast and boundless territory of the Great Yan. In the martial world, there are chivalrous heroes who travel there. Their figures are agile and swift as the wind. At that time, the hero was carrying his seriously injured friend and was rushing along the road, heading towards Gouwu City."

"Looking at his friend, his face was ashen, his breath faint, yet he still murmured incessantly. His friend said, 'I remember when the two of us met atop Mount Huiqi, we fought fiercely for hundreds of rounds; the ferocity of our battle is still vivid in my memory.' After speaking, he added, 'I also once strolled along the banks of Xicheng, savoring the fish of the Xijiang River; its rich flavor was unforgettable.'"

"Soon, his friend's breath grew weaker and weaker. He raised his hand tremblingly, as if grasping at something, and slowly said: 'The villain is...' The knight-errant's eyes widened and his hearing was sharpened, waiting for this crucial word."

"Unexpectedly, before his friend could finish speaking, his head suddenly tilted to the side, his hand fell limp, and he passed away suddenly."

After speaking, Li Boli, with his gray-blue hair, snapped his fan shut and sighed deeply.

"This is truly a case of: grudges are preordained in a past life, and must be settled in this one. What should the hero do next? Who is the murderer? To find out what happens next, please read the next chapter!"

In the lounge, a group of operators from all over Terra released a chorus of discontented boos.

One of the Pelosi, whose ears were usually flat, was so angry that they stood up. She shouted, "It's the same thing again! They talked about all sorts of nonsense, but when it came to who the murderer was, they died quickly and cleanly!"

"No way, you're not just stalling for time by not having come up with anything else yet, are you?"

"That's it!"

The crowd chimed in with their own complaints, one after another.

Li Boli, the man with the gray-blue hair who was referred to as Wuyou, gave an awkward smile and quickly waved his hand, saying, "Everyone, don't be in such a hurry! This is called 'laying the groundwork and foreshadowing.' What's the point if we reveal who the murderer is all at once?"

His gaze swept around the lounge, finally settling on a familiar figure in protective gear standing in the corner of the room, looking at them with a half-smile.

As if finding a savior, Wu You quickly pointed in the man's direction: "You should learn from the PhD, how composed you are!"

The room fell silent instantly, everyone turning to look in the direction he was pointing.

The Doctor smiled and nodded, but inwardly he wondered what kind of fierce image he had in the eyes of the other operators. Just a moment ago, the place was bustling with noise, but now it was as quiet as if Zalak had met Felin.

So he had no choice but to speak up for Wu You and ease the sudden awkwardness.

……

That concludes the recollection. If Akihara could return to that day, she would surely join the other operators in condemning Wuyou's despicable and shameless act of selectively quoting Perot.

Without a moment's mourning for the priest's sudden death, the next second Akihara's robes seemed to have been scorched by flames, a gray-black, twisted and rugged staff appeared in his hand, and a thorn crown flashed above his head.

Amiya, the healer.

A nostalgic pale pink light burst forth from the tip of the staff, gradually enveloping the priest's lifeless body.

"Sir, sir, what's wrong? Sir, sir, wake up! The patient is unresponsive, not breathing, no heartbeat, pupils dilated. Prepare for CPR..." Akihara Pin was initially pleased, but it was clear this gentleman couldn't be saved. So he changed his strategy.

He closed his eyes, concentrated his mind, and merged his consciousness with Amiya's Originium Arts.

In an instant, the silver river of memories flowed before him once more. However, since the owner of the memories had already died, Akihara only managed to scoop up a few fragments of memories before the silver river flickered a few times and disappeared.

Since he couldn't let his abilities go to waste, Akihara Kazuhiro casually gave Amuro Tooru, who had a bump on his head and seemed to have a concussion, a good sip of milk. He also copied Amuro's memories of his arrival here, intending to take them back for careful study.

The church was now a scene of utter chaos, the stench of blood permeating every inch of air, mixed with the smell of sawdust and gunpowder, making one almost nauseous. Akihara had held back; those who had fallen earlier were still alive, and with timely rescue, they could easily be brought back to life.

In the end, only the priest suffered. The ancients were right: those who do many evil deeds will surely perish.

As Akihara diligently modified the memories of everyone present, he thought to himself.

He struggled to lift the still unconscious Amuro Tooru, and turned his gaze to the outside of the church. It had only been past noon when he arrived, but now the sky was gradually darkening, and the leaden clouds hung heavily on the horizon like a giant curtain, as if foreshadowing an impending storm. It was practically the standard writing technique used to set off the mood after a certain stage in a chapter-style story.

Just then, with a creak, Akihara alertly pulled Amuro Tooru in front of him, thinking, "Is this ever going to end? Is this some kind of turn-based RPG? One wave of deaths after another!" Just then, a furry little head peeked out from the back door of the church. The child, Akihara, and Hikaru stared at each other wide-eyed.

Kazumitsu Akihara quickly realized that in periods when social welfare systems were not well-developed, such as during the Great Frontier Movement in Colombia, government welfare institutions were practically non-existent, and the Lateran Church took on the main responsibility of caring for orphans.

—It seems the situation here is similar, which explains why "Akihara Kazumitsu" was able to grow up here and how he got involved with the organization through this connection.

The gunshot wound on his head had almost healed, and he wiped the blood off his face, smiling as kindly as possible.

"Little one, don't be afraid." Perhaps it was the affinity of Amiya's Curse Healer, but the child wasn't frightened by the people lying haphazardly on the ground.

"Who...who are you? What happened to them?" The child wasn't intimidated; curiosity outweighed fear.

Akihara sighed softly, pointed to the unconscious Amuro Tooru, and explained, "We encountered... well, bad guys, but everything's alright now. What are you doing here?"

The child hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on an injured person lying motionless on the ground. "We have an outdoor class this afternoon, but the teacher hasn't come..."

Oh, the teacher is alright, the teacher is lying on the ground.

Akihara pushed Amuro Tooru aside, walked up to the child, and said solemnly with a serious expression, "I have a very important task for you now."

He snapped his fingers, and a Kamen Rider card appeared at his fingertips—his reward for helping the child find his cat last time.

"These are only three Kamen Rider cards in all of Japan, representing Kamen Rider's approval. Now I'm giving them to you. You need to lead all the children here to the nearest police station to seek help."

Perhaps it was Akihara's overly serious expression, or perhaps it was because Kamen Rider cards were truly a form of hard currency in the world of Detective Conan—the child took the card, clutched it tightly, and nodded excitedly: "Yes! I will definitely complete the mission!"

After saying that, he turned around and ran off to gather the other children.

Akihara watched the child's departing figure, breathed a sigh of relief, and then picked up Amuro Tooru, whom he had just thrown on the ground.