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

"My lords of the Ark... my mission is complete!"

With her chest heaving and blood gushing from her mouth, the assassin, whose appearance and life were obscured, suddenly gleamed with a sharp light in her eyes. She tentatively stretched out her fingers to trace the verdant bamboo tips in the sky, a tear sliding down her cheek before she breathed her last.

Looking at the tragically mutilated corpse before him, Makoto Kyogoku was overcome with grief. Ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder, he knelt on one knee and gently closed her unseeing eyes: "...Ah, rest in peace."

A chilling gust of wind brought the deadly battle to a close. He took off his lattice robe, covered Chihanna's body with it, picked it up, turned around, and left to find someone to call the police.

...rustling, rustling.

"Shh!"

Sensing that Makoto Kyogoku had indeed gone far away, the dark figure leaped out of the pile of fallen leaves with a somersault, rolled up the hem of his thick kimono, and took off running into the mountains—

"Wow! A beginner Super Saiyan is terrifying!"

Using a crow to confirm no one was following him, Kuromon Haruya swiftly slit his own throat to revert to his original form. He glanced at the longsword he held in his arms; the treasured weapon, forged from fine steel by a craftsman, was now densely covered with cracks resembling ice fissures. If this were told to others, they would probably just dismiss it as a wild rumor!

His brows furrowed tightly, a heavy, dark glint flashed in Haruya Kuromon's eyes as he gazed into the distance:

"I see this boy has extraordinary talent; if we don't eliminate him today, he may become a major threat to our Black Organization in the future..."

...I've wanted to say this for a long time! So cool!

He casually stuck the cheap, low-grade longsword he'd grabbed into the ground, and with a great sense of ceremony, erected a cenotaph for "Red Hannya." He stretched his shoulders, clapped his hands one after the other, and strolled away like an old man in a park.

What a joke! There's no one in this world who can be a major threat to an organization!

Admittedly, Makoto Kyogoku is like a demon god in one-on-one and one-on-many battles, but my lord, times have changed!

"Sigh~ Fighting Saiyans is something you can do once and then it's over. This kind of thankless task is better left to the organization's RPGs, Osprey helicopters, white phosphorus bombs, biological and chemical weapons, surface-to-air missiles, anti-ship submarines, and the 99% new retired Soviet atomic bombs that we've already ordered!"

If Kyogoku Makoto could withstand even these...

From this moment on, Heimen Yaoye will reform himself, make everyone in the organization wear red scarves, strive to abide by the law, transform into the world's largest charitable organization, and then retire behind the scenes!

Although it's unlikely, what if it happens? What if Conan really does learn Conan in the Conan world? What can he do then?

With a mental ranking of Kyogoku Makoto and various other fighters' firearms, Yamabayashi was soon left behind. He returned to the rendezvous point he had agreed upon with Asano Narumi and knocked on the car window:

"Vienna, I'm back!"

Asahi, who was taking a nap by the window in the driver's seat, opened his eyes, rolled down the window, and yawned: "Welcome back, huh?" Suddenly, he opened the car door, his nose twitching around the black door of Haruya, "Did you spray some perfume on yourself? It smells... so good?"

The fragrance that had disappeared before reappeared, though faint, it still lingered around Kuromon Haruya.

Moreover, it's incredibly tempting.

After slaughtering the Yunni Society last night and sneaking into the mayor's residence to force him to swallow poison, Asagi felt unusually tired and... thirsty.

A sense of emptiness seeping from his very blood. He felt like a grand piano frame that should have been whole, but whose keys had been forcibly removed, the strings pulled out and torn.

In my mind, the eternally undulating, moon-white melody of the harp, like the ocean tide, was gradually drowned out by another kind of scarlet wail... so thirsty, so viscous, so nourishing...

The fleeting images of fangs clashing against skin from every era flashed before his eyes, prompting this newborn bloodline to learn without instruction:

Gently trace the warm, delicate texture with your lower lip, piercing the bluish-green veins beneath the skin.

Fresh blood would gush out from those two sweet little holes like a gentle rain from heaven, and before the crimson blood flowed down her skin, her trembling lips would automatically close, licking and sucking.

When delicacies, like the finest silk in the world, caress every raised tongue like the soft, warm fingertips of a lover, filling the mouth with mouthful after mouthful, sliding down the esophagus, this unparalleled pleasure will overturn all past desires; only happiness, happiness, happiness will last forever!

"Ah, is there any?"

Kuromon Haruya raised her wrist and sniffed it, raising an eyebrow, not finding anything unusual about her scent: "Could it be that there's perfume on the clothes I borrowed? That shouldn't be the case. Can you circle where it's stuck?"

A dry tongue brushed against his canine teeth, and Asano carefully placed his sharp claws on Kuromon Haruya's shoulder, hesitantly leaning down:

"Right now..."

A crimson light spread from the depths of his azure eyes, revealing his sharp canines, and he abruptly lowered his head!

With a "plop," the sharp fangs sank deep into his flesh, and the blood, thick and potent like strong poison, began to burn his mouth. Asagi almost suffocated to death, yet he couldn't give up this sweetness.

Lowering his arm from the blocking position, Kuromon Haruya calmly observed his vertical pupils, and within a few seconds concluded: "Vampire."

He raised his hand and gripped the bloodline's fragile neck, slowly and forcefully pulling the arm out of the spikes with a force the bloodline could not resist. A few drops of blood fell, then floated back into the wound.

Kuromon Haruya lifted Asano's solid body high, as easily as carrying a rag doll, only slightly loosening his grip when Asano was about to suffocate:

"Like Daisuke Torakura, his physical abilities have increased, and his physiological structure has undergone significant changes, making him almost like a completely irrational beast. Moreover, the blood he has been sucked has not reversed and he has not recovered."

Strange. Why did Asami Narumi become a vampire?

Closing his eyes, he circled all the unusual details Asano Masami had exhibited over the past few days. Normally, Kuromon Haruya might have noticed it sooner, but recently his attention had been completely drawn to his own amnesia and Fanzawa Masato, and he hadn't been able to notice Asano Masami's discomfort in time.

"...It is indeed my dereliction of duty as the team leader and elder."

Looking back at past mistakes won't help; the urgent task is to find a solution and try to get the son entrusted to him by his old friend back to normal.

"There are currently two known vampires. One was used by Gin for amusement, and the other is..."

He took out his phone and dialed Koizumi Akako's number.

"Beep, beep, beep... The user you dialed is temporarily unavailable."

"Tsk!"

The vampire's mournful wails echoed across the field. Kuromon Haruya dialed again:

"Beep, beep, beep..."

It remains the same.

"Did I really kill Koizumi Akako?"

He frowned, swiftly breaking Ma Sheng's limbs, then pulled out a rope from the trunk, tied him up, and stuffed him under the back seat. He closed his eyes, his consciousness traveling through the trees, passing among the waiting crows, until it reached the shady area outside the Koizumi villa.

The black-eyed crow leaped down from the branch, its body passing through the barrier and crashing directly into the delicate glass of the stained-glass window:

"Koizumi Akako. Are you still alive?"

The short, hunched, pointy-eared butler ran over from the other side of the corridor, nervously rubbing his fingers together: "Lord Kuromon, Lord Akako is performing a ceremony... Is there anything I can do for you?"

"vampire."

The crow narrowed its eyes in displeasure, its feathers bristling like pine cones, and a hint of murderous intent emanated from its deep, gurgling throat.

Dracula, the vampire butler of the Koizumi family, bent his waist even lower, avoiding direct eye contact with his angry questioning.

"Humph!"

Kuromon Haruya snorted coldly, stood on top of the statue, and asked from above, "Where is Koizumi Akako? After so many days, I want to see her dead or alive with my own eyes."

Furthermore, the subordinate you promised me about being attacked by a vampire has been transformed tonight. Shouldn't I demand an explanation from you?

"this..."

Dracula's dark red eyes widened, and for the first time, a look of surprise appeared on his face, aside from fawning and worship.

Just as he hesitated about how to answer, the ruby ​​on his collar began to sparkle: "It's alright. Dracula, bring him to me in the basement."

"Yes, sir Hongzi."

Glancing suspiciously at the old servant, Kuromon Haruya slowly lowered the feathers that had been raised, spread his wings, and glided effortlessly toward the basement—

Inside the basement filled with pure gold bricks, the Crimson Witch herself stood in a narrow, empty space in front of her, stirring a cauldron incessantly in her hands. Her beautiful face, as if she had indulged in excessive pleasure, had two obvious bruises hanging below her eyes.

Before Kuromon Haruya could ask a question, she slammed a nearly human-sized stirring stick to the ground, disregarding any semblance of witch or ladylike image, plopped down on the ground, and began wailing and screaming as she pointed at the crow:

"Look at this room full of gold! I've been stirring it for seven days and six nights!"

"It was my fault for accidentally attracting the attention of the Japanese gods! But I've found the resurrection scroll, and I'm working hard to decipher the prophecy. Asking me to use all this gold at once to cast a spell to shield the mystical realm would exhaust even the Bull of Heaven!"