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

"If you don't trust me, you can come with me to the other side, which serves as the interrogation room, for a meeting room."

Even when he tried his best to cover the wound, he was still worried that blood would seep out from between his fingers.

Kuromon Haruya braced himself and looked at his hesitant boss, "Do you have a tourniquet, or at least let me treat this urgently?"

He only took one aptx4869 today, fearing that if he delayed any longer, he would lose too much blood and resurrect in public after the suppressant wore off, forcing him to go on a rampage right under the detective's nose.

"Hmph, coward!"

Despite his tough words, the boss, seeing his weak and powerless appearance, still untied the restraints.

If someone really turns against them, this cop might be able to act as a shield for them.

"After all, I'm a person too."

Seeing that there was no hope of getting anything, Kuromon Haruya picked up the elastic rope, wrapped it around the end above the wound near her heart, and used her trembling hands to barely tighten and tie it.

The leader looked up and saw his other subordinates standing not far away watching. He waved his hand and shouted loudly, spitting as he did so:

"What are you looking at? Don't forget there are cops outside! Everyone, keep a close watch on your posts, or we'll all capsize at the last minute!"

He scrutinized his passing subordinates, and the more he observed, the more suspicious he became, sensing that none of them were entirely trustworthy!

Daring not to think any further, the leader grabbed Heimen Yaoye by the back of his collar and pulled him away in a manner that was neither violent nor gentle.

What seemed like a minor incident to those involved in organized crime was quite terrifying to Ran Mouri and Yukiko Kudo.

In front of a group of unsuspecting hostages, Kuromon Haruya, covered in blood and barely alive, was dragged to the other side like a piece of trash.

The pungent smell of rust and the bloodstains on the floor seemed to be the last stand of this fearless detective.

"Ah! My stomach!" A woman suddenly exclaimed from the crowd sitting on the ground.

Ran Mouri turned around and saw a pregnant woman lying on the ground, clutching her belly and crying out in pain, seemingly frightened by the tense situation.

"Someone, someone please help my wife! Is there anyone here who can help deliver the baby?!"

Her husband, who was standing guard beside her, mustered his courage and, with a pale face, called out to those around him for help.

The commotion attracted the attention of the thugs stationed there. A man wielding a semi-automatic rifle walked up to the husband and struck him in the chest with the butt of his rifle.

"What's all the noise about? If you say another word, I'll kill you all!"

Seeing that the crowd was still somewhat agitated, the assailant looked at the pregnant woman who was clinging to her husband, his eyes flashing with malice.

In that critical moment, Ran Mouri didn't think twice, and her body moved on its own.

She grabbed Yukiko Kudo, who was trying to get up, and rolled to the woman's side, using her forearm to block the attacker's attack.

If she hadn't hesitated and panicked so much, and had taken the initiative to join forces with Brother Heimen, perhaps he wouldn't have been so seriously injured! Now, she too will muster the courage to protect the safety of others!

"you!"

The assailant was furious that someone dared to resist and turned his gun on Ran Mouri.

"Wait." Under Ran's puzzled gaze, Yukiko Kudo took off her mask and hat, and stood in the crowd to confront them.

Even though she had been retired from acting for many years, 80% of the tourists present still recognized her. For a moment, even the other companions who were waiting to slack off stood up and looked nervously in her direction.

“This pregnant woman is about to give birth, and in accordance with international humanitarian law, we need to apply for the most basic medical assistance for her.”

Yukiko Kudo placed one hand on her chest, looked around like a goddess descending under the lights, and said, "If even a pregnant woman can't be rescued, what about us hostages? Will you really release us safely?"

These words may sound naive and foolish, but they are not entirely useless.

As a former globally renowned actress, her influence surpassed that of everyone present. If she wanted to stop the assailant from firing a shot, there was no faster or more efficient way than revealing her identity.

She remembered Yusaku saying that one should not be deceived by the apparent ferocity of criminals, because every human being will reveal their true intentions through their actions.

She did not deny that her remarks were inflammatory. For these criminals who wanted to escape smoothly, killing her now would not only lead to the police's distrust, but also potentially a rebellion by the hostages.

"Tsk, what a hassle." The thug glanced at the restless crowd, his face grim, and took out his phone to call his boss.

"Hello?" A cold and displeased voice came from the loudspeaker.

"Reporting, boss! There's a pregnant woman among the hostages who's about to give birth, and there's also a female celebrity, Yukiko Fujimine, who said she wants to apply for some kind of humanitarian aid."

"I see."

The burly man in black clenched his legs, curling up on the ground in agony. He tried to make a sound, but only hissing sounds escaped his throat. Hearing that Kuromon Haruya's throat could actually produce his own voice, his eyes widened, and he stood frozen in disbelief.

Kuromon Haruya sat on his back, crossed his legs, and instructed his subordinates, "Xiao Jiu, choose a young girl to help this pregnant woman out, and have them tell the police that we have more hostages!"

"What should we do with that female celebrity?"

As the member listened to the instructions, he vaguely felt something was off. Why was his boss speaking so eloquently today?

"Leave her alone at the back; she can be used as a hostage during the evacuation."

"Okay, okay!" Number Nine nodded and bowed over the phone, tentatively asking, "Then, could we...?"

"You can do whatever you want! I'll say something and you'll lift your dog's ass!"

That's the right tone! Number Nine was jolted awake by the scolding and quickly tried to appease him before hanging up the phone.

"Tell me, do I look like you?"

Yoruichi Kuromon lowered his head and looked tenderly at the half-dead prisoner on the floor.

As a thank you for wiping his shoes with his face, he pulled out a soft knife from a hidden compartment in his belt and slapped the boss's cheek.

"So similar, so incredibly similar!" The slicing sound of the blade shaving away a few whiskers sent chills down the leader's spine. "I'll tell you everything! The gold and weapons we hid, and all the high-quality goods from Moonshadow Island, are yours! Please spare my life..."

"Shhh."

Kuromon Haruya raised his index finger and tapped it between his eyebrows, laughing, "Since you're from the underworld, how come none of you know that Japan is the organization's territory?"

The boss had certainly heard of "organization," but hadn't that criminal group been targeted and pursued by police agencies in various countries for the past five years?!

"Since you dare to challenge my authority, you must be willing to accept the punishment." Kuromon Haruya walked to the room's ventilation opening and opened the metal mesh cover.

A grimy raven emerged from the pipe, spread its wings, shook its feathers, and then turned its neck to reveal a seal.

Press the raised area next to the stamp, and the built-in heat-conducting device will heat it up quickly, making the iron pattern on the stamp glow red-hot.

"Although I've been working on my self-discipline these past few years, it shouldn't be a problem to sneak a bite under a detective's nose once in a while, right? Luckily, this hotel only has cameras in the lobby and at the back door."

The young man, who resembled a demon, muttered to himself inexplicably. Under the boss's terrified gaze, he held the seal and paced closer.

"Ugh! Ugh—"