I'm writing a fictional immortality script in Detective Conan.

Gin was the first person, and the one who knew this fact from the very beginning—it was all just a game set up by that man when he was bored.

Since the "failure" of that crucial experiment seventeen years ago, that gentleman has reduced his activities and gone into seclusion.

The most suspicious of the old men who live by scavenging in the darkness are those who can no longer sit on the branch if they smell even the slightest hint of blood on their target.

They couldn't even tell if it was the hunter's blood or their companion's blood.

Thanks to the thousands of anti-hypnosis training sessions personally organized by the boss, when the short film ended and the other three had already fallen asleep, he only felt nerve pain and lost consciousness.

After him, the first to regain consciousness was the organization's second-in-command, Rum.

The cunning old man, while feigning a cry of pain and covering his left eye, chuckled maliciously and probed, "Don't hold back. Even if you kill him, you won't bear any responsibility. Gin, what do you think of that?"

It seems this old guy knows more than he thought.

"Don't let me step on your tail, Rum."

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window in the corridor, Gin gazed at the flock of crows hovering over Tokyo, the black birds weaving through the impending rain clouds like two twisted double helixes. In the pocket of his trench coat beside him, a glowing screen displayed the latest message:

[A family game. —From Boss]

...

The return of Sugar Lime was expected, but his attitude toward the three newcomers was problematic.

Not only has the difficulty of the assessment been reduced to an unprecedented level, but the system of "quasi-code names" is also unheard of.

The code name is both a form of approval from that man and a constraint. Regardless of one's true identity or abilities, once marked with a code name, one becomes that man's private property in his closet, not to be taken away.

When that gentleman was enraged...

The deep blue in those sharp cat eyes was like the deep trenches beneath an icy sea. Their sacrifice was like a moth drawn to a flame, dying in the tedious struggles within the undercover unit. They were used as a gift by the trusted higher-ups to surrender to the organization, and ultimately died in a dramatic mockery.

ta's name

Just

Kagemitsu Kurokawa, formerly known as Morofushi Kagemitsu, was a former undercover agent of the Japanese Public Security Bureau.

Boom, boom, boom!

Looking at the three deep bullet marks on the ceiling, Kurokawa Kagemitsu almost dropped the signal control device. He looked at Gin with a bewildered expression, almost asking, "What's wrong with you now?"

Since returning to Japan on the orders of Yoruichi Kuromon, Gin has never given him a kind look, even though they could barely communicate in the United States.

“Sugrid, cover up your rodent face, I’m going to throw up.”

Gin turned away and closed his eyes, forcing himself to forget the memories of that boy with the face of Kurokawa Kagemitsu.

"Akami Miyano has arrived at the location where Kenzo Hirota is hiding, and another accomplice is on his way by car."

The crisp sound of slurping noodles came from the other side of the machine. Fanzawa Masato was squatting behind Hirota Kenzo's rented house, holding the takeout delivered by Kuromon Haruya and speaking somewhat indistinctly: "Vienna, remember to drive a bigger car. Four black cats are not easy to control."

As members of a criminal organization with good morals, they adhere to the principle of putting people first and will never harm innocent small animals during their operations.

Therefore, after some discussion, Asagi Narumi was chosen as the next owner of the four black cats!

Asagi munched on a piece of bread, head down preparing shoe covers and gloves: "I've already bought an airline case; it's right across the street."

Kurokawa Kagemitsu put his mask back on and listened to the three beer-loving kids chatting and eating like elementary school students on a field trip. For a moment, he didn't know whether it was more annoying for them to openly steal small fish or for the intelligence group to quietly steal big fish.

But it doesn't matter, that's Gin's problem to worry about. Strange, why is there a sound of plastic rubbing together here?

Vodka pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and, panting, wiped the sweat from his forehead.

I don't know what my brother was thinking, insisting on setting up the observation point in an abandoned, unfinished building where there isn't even an elevator.

He went to buy lunch wearing a thick suit, and climbing up and down more than ten floors exhausted him!

Of course, he couldn't say these things in front of his elder brother; it must have been Sugrid, who had suddenly returned to the country, who was behind it all.

Just as he was cursing in his heart, Vodka saw Kurokawa Kagemitsu scrutinizing the convenience store shopping bag in his hand.

Did he just swear out loud?

Vodka scratched his head and shook his empty shopping bag: "Sorry, Sugarled, I didn't buy yours."

Unbeknownst to him, Kurokawa Kagemitsu was staring at the sandwich in Gin's hand, thinking only of one thing: Boss, what happened to the rule that immortals don't need to eat?

"They've made their move. Hirota Kenzo is confirmed dead." Kuromon Haruya's notification echoed across the entire channel, signaling the final conclusion of the second phase.

Kuromon Haruya knocked on Asano Minami's car door and took the disguise equipment: "Hirota Kenzo was strangled to death by that tall accomplice. Miyano Akemi should be submitting a handover request soon."

When Yoruichi Kuromon and Asami Narumi arrived at the second floor of the apartment with the flight case, Masato Hanzawa had already successfully pried open the door lock and was waiting to enter.

Hirota Kenzo's eyes were wide open, saliva dripping from the corners of his gaping mouth, his face contorted in a grotesque, unseeing death. A rope was wrapped around his neck, connecting to the beam of the rented room. Despite the obscuring effect, a clear ring of strangulation marks from human hands was still visible on his neck.

Judging from the grease reflection on the ceiling, the murderer was not wearing any protective gear when removing the plaster ceiling, and the fingerprints were clearly visible.

At his feet, four cats—Hao, Kuai, Di, and Wang—were meowing in bewilderment.

Recalling the coach's earnest teachings at the training ground, Masato Hanzawa couldn't help but complain: "Completely amateurish methods; it's obvious at a glance that this is a homicide disguised as a suicide."

"Mimi, be good."

Asahi, through his gloves, stroked Kaito and Tei, who had voluntarily squeezed into the cage, and seemed somewhat puzzled:

Are these cats trained to know when they go into their cages?

Fanze Zhenren patted him on the shoulder and pointed to the door.

Following the direction pointed out by Fanze Zhenren, they saw two other cats warily hissing at Heimen Yaoye.

As he took a step closer, the black cats took a step back.

"This..." Asahi was speechless for a moment.

Having spent a long time with Kuromon Haruya, Hanzawa Masato had become accustomed to his natural enemy's characteristics, and such scenes often occurred when he fed stray cats and dogs downstairs at the apartment building.

"That's just my constitution."

"Wait, there's a sound outside." Kuromon Haruya stopped talking and listened intently.

Tap tap tap, a jumble of footsteps echoed on the stairs outside the apartment building.

The lead officer kicked open the door lock and set up his gun for defense.

The empty room was deserted except for a hanging male corpse: "Report, the suspect, Kenzo Hirota, has been murdered. No suspicious persons were found at the scene."

"Next, search the area around the scene! Apprehend the suspects before they can escape!"

Kazami Yuya sensed something was wrong and quickly took out his phone to send a message to Furuya Rei, who was lying in wait in another location.

"That was close! Thank goodness you reacted quickly, Belbut!" Disguised as a middle-aged man, Masato Hanzawa supported the heavily pregnant Haruka Kuromon, his surprise and delight evident. "I never imagined your physique could be used in this way!"

Kuromon Haruya, holding the backpack containing four black cats hidden under his clothes, sighed: He didn't want to use his biological deterrent in such a strange place!