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

"When I arrived at the scene, Hirota Masami had already been murdered by his students."

Folding his suit jacket aside, Kuromon Haruya looked up and met Gin's gaze through the mirror:

"I solved the case while I was conducting the on-site investigation. However, since the disk was one of the pieces of evidence, the police asked to take it away for questioning and verification. After some expediency, I took the opportunity to leave the scene and destroyed it directly."

"It's just a pity about this interesting identity."

With a clear emerald green hue, sincere yet respectful, Heimon Haruya calmly completed the oral narration of the mission's contents. His excellent attitude and clear logic stood in stark contrast to the organization's previous mystics and action-oriented members.

Vodka listened to his report as if from another era; the last time he could have a calm and rational conversation with a codename member was four years ago with Scotch Whisky.

However, after this guy turned into Sogrid, he gradually stopped speaking human language.

Reflecting on the noticeably improved workplace atmosphere recently, Vodka had a sudden inspiration—could it be that the gentleman also felt there were too many people in the organization who spoke vaguely, and that's why he specially brought in these three bottles of normal beer!

"It won't happen again."

The cigarette butt, crushed in the ashtray, sparked and extinguished between Gin's fingers.

This action seems unrelated, but Yoruichi Kuromon can understand its meaning—the mission was not executed perfectly, leaving a flaw at the end, but it ends there and is not pursued further.

This is Gin's unique practice of self-aesthetics.

No one knows a son better than his father, and Yoya Kuromon was well aware of his reaction.

Gin only considers two things when it comes to his actions and dealings with people:

I. Efficiency in achieving goals;

Second, obedience and respect for his status.

As long as these two conditions are met, he will not be overly demanding of subordinates, whether they are as volatile and bloodthirsty as Chianti or as unremarkable as Vodka.

Although many people labeled Gin as a "master of internal strife" in his past life, he was a rare and good boss to normal members of the organization!

Haruya Kuromon: Proud^_^

The "Butbel" image he's projecting right now makes him look like the perfect subordinate! Gin certainly won't blame him!

Gin glanced dismissively at the smiling face. He didn't care about Butbel's loyalty, but this attitude was barely acceptable.

"From now on, you will be my direct subordinate, just like Vodka."

Vodka glanced at it in shock through his sunglasses and then pricked up his ears to listen.

"Okay, I understand." Kuromon Haruya tentatively asked, "So, what about the instructions for the other officers...?"

"Make your own judgment. Now go to Vermouth's safe house, in your original form."

After receiving his superior's reply, he nodded as if he understood, pulled out the toolbox from under the back seat, and pondered as he removed his disguise:

Being a direct subordinate may sound like just a change in job title, but it carries a special meaning within an organization.

The value of being a "direct subordinate" lies not only in the fact that you only need to follow the orders of one fixed boss, but also in the fact that the division of all direct subordinates requires the boss's, that is, his, consent.

Currently, the direct subordinates and their corresponding executives in Japan are: Pisco-Ireland; Rum-Curaçao; Gin-Vodka. Vermouth, however, has been throwing a tantrum in recent years, perhaps feeling that Calvados has been sufficiently attentive, and has declined her nomination.

However, Haruya Kuromon doesn't recall ever handling this "Butbel" dispatch, which means...

'Gin is falsely claiming imperial authority.'

No one in the organization would question this allocation, or rather, no one would imagine that the loyal Gin would dare to forge orders; everyone in the know would tacitly accept this.

Butber is still a newcomer and doesn't understand the deeper meaning behind it. Even if he learns more later, he won't rashly contact that man just to verify whether he is Gin's direct subordinate.

In this way, the organization's blind spot was perfectly formed.

Yoruichi Kuromon's smile deepened, a dark light spreading from his eyes, like the deepest darkness in the night sky, yet revealing his heartfelt satisfaction.

The children he nurtured were like dark stars that swallowed the sun's brilliance, slowly rising in the night sky—nothing could be more fulfilling! It was because of these unique treasures that he did not truly fall into demonic ways.

Vodka glanced at Butbel, who was humming happily in the back seat, and muttered reproachfully:

"Are you that excited to see Vermouth?"

...

On the other end of the wiretap, the vehicle seemed to be completely in motion, and apart from the distinctly Showa-era humming, no further information was being transmitted.

“If we catch up quickly, we can seize Vermouth’s stronghold.” Ai Haibara hugged her trembling arms tightly. “But with profit comes risk. If they find out, we’ll all die a horrible death. Are you prepared?”

"Of course." Conan switched on his glasses and was about to leave when he heard her voice. His eyes widened as he turned around. "Wait, when did you hear that?!"

"When you're squatting alone in a corner, grinning like an idiot."

Ai Haibara snorted coldly, took small steps to Professor Agasa's side who was talking to Inspector Yokomizo, and began to cry while clutching her stomach:

"Grandpa, I need to go to the toilet! Hurry, or I'll be late!"

"Grandpa?!"

Dr. Agasa was so surprised that he raised his beard and pointed to himself, clarifying in his mind: I am only 52 years old now, a golden bachelor!

Seeing this, Conan immediately realized what was happening and, mimicking Professor Agasa, grabbed his belt and ran outside, shouting, "Grandpa, I need to go to the bathroom too! Hurry, hurry!"

Given their astonishing urgency to urinate, Officer Yokomizo didn't dare stop them for a moment and quickly let the grandfather and his two grandchildren go out to relieve themselves. He never imagined that he would gain another batch of witnesses who would try to escape taking a statement.

There's no time to lose; the statement can be submitted later, but the Black Organization is hard to find.

The three, who had little sense of law-abidingness to begin with, slipped away from the scene and drove off in the direction the organization had located.

“Gin, vodka, and Vermouth’s residence here…” Muttering the various code names he had already mastered, Conan took the opportunity to ask the question that had been bothering him, “By the way, Haibara, your real name is Shiho Miyano, right?”

Unexpectedly, this outsider detective knew her real name. Ai Haibara was stunned for a moment, then immediately realized that this might be related to her sister.

She grabbed Conan's hand excitedly, her nails digging into his skin with her intense emotions, causing a slight stinging sensation.

"You've heard of me? Did you hear it from my older sister, Akemi Miyano?! What else did she say to you?!"

"Calm down!" Conan patted her shoulder and sighed heavily. "I just found a disk left by your sister. There's a video on it that roughly explains why she was forced to commit robbery."

"Since you are a codenamed member of the organization, you must know the codename of this Atsushi Akai, right?"

Conan recalled the intelligence he had obtained during the Italian robbery case and deduced it point by point: "Which functional group does he belong to? The Gin guys, the Rum guys, the Vermouth guys, or someone else? Are there one in each region?"

Haibara Ai:?

What is he saying? How can he use such a terrifying word as "Gin and his ilk"?