Transmigrated into Conan, his ability is Rhodes Island

This is in reverse order.

Years later, as he faces the crowded subway, Akihara Kazumitsu will recall that distant afternoon when he was reading a newspaper in a fast food restaurant.

This is the beginning.

Akihara Kazumitsu sat in a faded orange-red booth at the fast-food restaurant. The floor-to-ceiling windows refracted the sunlight into sharp, angular beams, casting his shadow on the tablecloth. His black shirt was neatly tucked into his belt, and the unbuttoned cuffs revealed the honey-colored skin of his forearms.

—Clearly, Qiuyuan is now Lin Aiguo ver.

He always seemed a bit self-conscious about his image in this outfit—Akihara Kazumitsu himself called Lin Aiguo's inherent reserve a performance that fit the character's setting. In his normal life, he would have slumped into the sofa without any proper posture, but now he sat upright, his bent knuckles unconsciously rubbing the hamburger wrapper, and said thank you in a low, hoarse voice when the waiter brought him iced coffee.

The girl sitting next to him stole a glance at his sunburnt, honey-brown nape—there was a band-aid edge that hadn't been completely removed, and several bruises were faintly visible underneath.

"Wow, look, that girl in the black shirt sitting by the window looks so cool..." Akihara had just taken a sip of his iced Americano, which tasted like dishwater, when he heard a girl behind him whispering to her companions. He looked behind him through the reflection in the glass and saw a girl with a ponytail holding a menu, half-covering her face, staring furiously in his direction.

Akihara looked away, but the murmurs still drifted over the partition thanks to the cool air from the air conditioner.

"See that band-aid on the back of your neck?" The girl with the ponytail frantically stirred the ice at the bottom of her glass. "There seems to be a purple mark under the edge that's curled up."

Her bob-haired friend glanced at her and concluded, "It's one of those crescent-shaped bruises from being pinched with fingers, right?"

The girls exchanged a knowing glance, then chuckled in unison.

The system simultaneously emitted a mechanical "hehehe" sound effect inside his skull.

Akihara:……

For once, Akihara didn't retaliate against the system. Instead, he silently took another sip of iced coffee, which helped to reduce the burning pain in his throat.

Yes, his deep, hoarse voice just now wasn't for showing off or creating a persona; the whole thing started a few hours earlier.

[This is an interlude]

A few hours earlier, he and Shuichi Akai had picked up Tooru Amuro, who had less than half a tube of blood left and whose sanity was in critical condition, and brought him back to Shizuoka. However, Amuro seemed to have no intention of getting out of the car and leaving. Shuichi Akai stepped on the gas and drove him home.

Akihara Kazumitsu's house.

In this tiny apartment of just a few square meters, it is fortunate to house so many talented individuals. If it weren't for Shuichi Akai's strong sense of ownership in going to the kitchen to boil water with the only large appliance—the kettle—the living room, which can only fit a sofa, would be even more cramped now.

Amuro Tooru clearly wanted to ask something, at least to give an explanation for the mess in his mind, but Akihara Kazuhiro, who was opposite him, was also making his own calculations.

For example, try to figure out the root cause of the other party's temporary brainwashing into a pure black "Bourbon" image.

Akihara had previously learned a little about what had happened to Amuro Tooru by going through his memories. It seemed that he had been drugged as soon as he entered the church, through the Holy Communion served by the church.

"A glass of clear water with a slight herbal aroma. Amuro Tooru carefully observed it by the light of the candle and the few rays of sunlight shining through the glass window, and found that the water seemed to have been tinged with a light green color." No matter how you look at it, it must have been at this time that someone poisoned him with Dionesium.

Don't eat anything given to you by strangers, little Amuro Tooru!

Akihara recalled the taste of diluted Dionesium from Amuro Tooru's memory, a flavor somewhere between wormwood and rotten pine resin.

The church seems to increase the loyalty of its believers by distributing the package indiscriminately to all believers. Amuro Tooru, as an unexpected intruder, received the "Golden Experience Package," which led to his chaotic dreams in the following nights. In more severe cases, he could not distinguish between hallucinations and reality even when he was awake.

For example, when Amuro Tooru felt that the Karasuma Renyafure version of the mural on the ceiling of the church was moving, it was most likely due to vestibular-ocular reflex disorder, and the cause of this was likely the abnormal folding of α-synuclein.

Further deductions require pharmacological analysis of the components of drug D. When Akihara Kazumitsu searched the house of Edamasa no Risa, he asked the system to leave a sample. The reason why it has not been analyzed to this day is definitely not because he forgot about it.

Absolutely not.

Getting back to the main point, besides pharmacological reasons, there's also a more mystical speculation. To put it simply, Amuro Tooru's sanity level dropped to a certain point, triggering his berserk state.

To verify his hypothesis, Akihara made two preparations.

"Just one more time," he said, pulling out the tool, Xiao Haisi, used to lower sanity, from the system space with his left hand and picking up the sample of the D drug with his right.

This is from the victim's perspective.

Amuro Tooru always felt that there was a vague figure in his memory, like a slender nun, but for some reason, his head would hurt whenever he thought about it.

Although Su Dai was unreliable 80% of the time, he had no intention of asking the third person present, the one with long hair and green eyes.

The person looked strangely familiar, overlapping with a vague outline from his hazy memories, yet vanishing before he could focus. He was certain he'd never seen him before, ultimately attributing it to a vague, incompatible aura.

Amuro Tooru pondered for a long time, and was about to speak when suddenly a blur appeared before his eyes. A blob of unidentified object, emitting a fishy smell, drew a perfect parabola in the air and headed straight for his face.

Even in his recent recovery from serious injuries, Amuro Tooru's reaction speed allowed him to quickly dodge the attack. He was certain that he had dodged it, but the unidentified object suddenly extended tentacles, hooked onto Amuro Tooru's hair, swung back, and slapped onto Amuro Tooru's face with a thud.

Amuro Tooru's last memory was of layers upon layers of tentacles with suction cups, filling his vision like a kaleidoscope.

This is from the perpetrator's (or someone else's) perspective.

Akihara Kazumitsu even had the leisure to instruct little Kaiji on the side, "Take it easy, take it easy, retract your teeth and mouthparts, don't bite and damage the face..."

Before he could finish speaking, Amuro Tooru suddenly sprang up, his strength so great that he flung the carefully retracted suction cup, Little Kaiji, away with a "squeak." He quickly closed in, and Akihara only had time to see the crimson light creep into the other's purplish-gray eyes before he was grabbed by the neck and slammed into the depths of the sofa.

[This is from an eyewitness's perspective]

When Shuichi Akai came out of the kitchen carrying a kettle, this was the scene he witnessed: a scene straight out of a third-rate soap opera—a blond youth was choking a dark-haired youth by the neck with one hand, viciously and recklessly strangling him. The FBI's mind raced through the scene, ultimately concluding that this whole industry was incredibly messy.

He slowly poured water into his mug, soaking some expired black tea that he had somehow found in some hidden corner.

"Good tea."

In response, the old sofa let out a dying groan. Akihara had just experienced a blackout and almost fainted. His brain had been blown to bits by the explosion just hours before, and the newly formed tissue was still very fragile. The capillaries in his retina couldn't withstand the pressure and ruptured first, leaving blood spots that bloomed brilliantly in the autumn wind.

"Good tea...you...you big idiot!" Akihara Kazumitsu's Adam's apple bobbed laboriously in Amuro Tooru's palm: "He's pinching...my...carotid sinus, come quick..."

Amuro Tooru's suddenly tightened knuckles shattered the latter half of the sentence in Akihara's oxygen-deprived pupils. The latter's mind went blank, his temples throbbed, and the scene before his eyes blurred.

Akihara thought sadly, "I've been playing C for the past few chapters, but Amuro Tooru has been relentlessly attacking his teammates. What am I working so hard for?"

In a daze, he heard the system say quietly, "You were right in the last chapter. Those who do evil will perish."

"Let go." Akai's voice, warmed by the heat of the black tea, seemed to come from a great distance, but it sounded as perfunctory as someone slacking off at work. "His eyes are starting to roll back."

Talking to Amuro Tooru was of no use. Akihara's throat bones cracked between his fingers, and his pupils began to dilate. Little Kaiji, who had been thrown away, crawled over, grumbling, and several tentacles desperately tried to pull Amuro Tooru away.

Before Akihara Kazuhiro, the sofa beneath them was the first to give way. With the sofa letting out its last mournful cry, the two men and Kaiji collapsed into a bizarre heap.

At the same time, Akihara Kazumitsu did two things based on muscle memory: he pushed upwards with his knee and bit the other's tiger's mouth at the same moment the other let go.

Shuichi Akai stood by, holding his mug, watching for a long while before calmly saying, "You guys have broken my 'bed,' so where am I going to sleep tonight?"

This is the real-world timeline.

Akihara Kazumitsu sighed deeply. The iced Americano in his hand tasted even more bitter. It was the triple pain of caffeine, wound pain, and being homeless.

His small apartment was completely occupied by his two undercover friends, and at this moment he was like a middle-aged man who was frustrated in his career and exhausted, unwilling to go home to face his menopausal wife and rebellious daughter.

The reason he's dressed like this is twofold: firstly, the dark foundation he's using to cosplay Lin Aiguo can cover the horrifying bruises on his neck; and secondly, Akihara Kazumitsu's identity is clearly no longer secure after the battle at the church.

Regardless of which direction of speculation one takes, it seems that the organization knew about his unusual identity from the beginning. After the organization realized that he had the knowledge of this matter, it is unknown whether they will take other actions. They might even resort to their traditional trick of fighting amongst themselves and eliminate him without delay.

So let those two main characters go fishing in their apartment.

Akihara thought mercilessly.

Before leaving, he gave Akai Shuichi a word of advice—not because the latter seemed more reliable, but because Amuro Tooru had just fainted again, and Akihara hadn't woken up before leaving—saying that he should contact him if anything happened. At this moment, his phone was quiet, so it seemed that at least for now, the organization hadn't come knocking.

Now he had the leisure to look back at the memories of Amuro Tooru and the priest. The former was chaotic and accompanied by strong mental pollution; the latter was scattered and could not even be bound into a thin booklet.

As Qiu Yuan flipped through the pages, he ate a sanity-restoring potion and occasionally scribbled down important points. The system, meanwhile, perched on his shoulder, stretching its non-existent neck to peer inside.

Through Amuro Tooru's memories, Akihara Kazuhiro and the "himself" in the photo stare at each other. The boy, about fifteen or sixteen years old, in the yellowed photograph is staring directly at him with dark pupils and thin lips pressed into a straight line.

Akihara stroked his chin thoughtfully, then dipped a fries in ketchup and wrote "Ten years ago" on the hamburger wrapper.

Ten years ago, a member of parliament named Takayuki Koga visited the orphanage.

Ten years ago, a group of orphanage staff died under mysterious circumstances, including the father of a kitchen helper.

Ten years ago, the hidden solitary confinement cells had not yet been abandoned.

He turned his attention to the clues that Amuro Tooru had brought back from the abandoned confinement cell.

Even through memory, the image remains breathtaking. Marks from different eras float in the morning light, and at the center of this vortex, a black sun, fifty centimeters in diameter, carved out bit by bit with fingernails, is slowly rising.

A small section of the fingernail split at the end of the sunlight's scattered rays, leaving a bloody arc.

Akihara raised an eyebrow, looked at his fingertips, and felt a phantom pain.

Those short, spaced-out lines embodied the specific shape of sunlight. Akihara quietly looked at Amuro Tooru in his memory, frowning and pondering. In the end, he couldn't figure it out and had to copy down the coded text first.

Just then, Qiu Yuan's knuckles tapped in, one long and two short, one long and three short, three short and one long... The rhythmic tapping suddenly stopped, and he abruptly spoke: "It should be a simple secondary encryption."

“First, there’s the obvious Morse code, and the result is…” Akihara wrote down a line of bright red text.

"D B V G B B L V W Z W X B V P A J R M H T G Q N E F T K S N K R"

"The encryption method should be classical cryptography; a ten-year-old child shouldn't be able to perform a mental calculation of hash256..."

With this in mind, Akihara made a simple attempt at a shift cipher.

"CAQBKSNIUHRONFGUOLOS...DBXEDDNXBYZXDXRCLTOJISPOOGVVPMPT..."

After his attempts failed, he tried a different fence password, but after several attempts, the result was still a complete mess.

The system is also helping to run frequency attacks, but the string length is too short, so the frequency attacks are not very effective.

"Host, 3943 words!" The system's CPU was so powerful it could fry an egg, and it slumped back onto Qiuyuan and Guang's shoulders, feeling dizzy. "How about we continue solving the mystery in the next chapter?"

"Shh, your running sound is disturbing my thinking." Akihara ruffled the light ball's head, then pulled up Amuro Tooru's memories again and watched them once more. After watching them, he didn't pause at the black sun but told it to continue playing.

Akihara went through his memories, finally settling on a short period before he broke down the door, when the priest was still preaching on the platform, expounding on the copied doctrine of the Holy Trinity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

"This looks familiar..." Akihara murmured. "I feel like I've seen a passage of doctrine here before?"

The progress bar moved forward again, and in a corner of the wall carved with the black sun, a small passage of Hebrew was carved.

The signature is: ????????