Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan

A/N: This story takes one year after The Wonder Drug Part I: The Science Project. Do not worry if you haven't read neither part I or II of the Wonder Drug. Of course I encourage you to check those stories up. It's just for those who already reading the Wonder Drug to know that this story is part of the same universe :).

Also, a little warning. This story include a child abuse (it's only one scene).

Enjoy

No Remorse

"Hey freak, are you old or something?" A kid yelled after Otsuka Osamu, a twelve years old boy with short silver hair, who walked through the school hallway.

"It's so freaky for a kid to have a grey hair, right, Shinji?" Another boy joined the taunt.

"Yeah, yeah, Masato." Shinji laughed. "And don't think we wouldn't notice just because you cut your hair."

"Shut up, you punks!" Osamu shouted. He had enough of others students mocking his hair. "Also, my hair is silver, not grey. Are you colour-blind person?"

"Is it me, Masato, or he's mocking us?"

"I think you may be right, Shinji. We should teach him a lesson." Masato was about to punch Osamu in the face, but Osamu dodged it, and delivered a punch into Masato's stomach. Masato bend in half and grunted in pain.

"You piece of shit." Shinji shouted. He was about to slam his body against Osamu, but he moved aside, and Shinji ended up falling on the floor. When he was getting up, Osamu punched him in the face.

"Otsuka Osamu, what are you doing?" A teacher showed up, his face angry.

"I'm teaching those little shits the lesson. Besides, they started first." Osamu responded, his eyes flickered with anger.

"I wish you to refrain from such a language, and mostly you are not allowed to beat others kids. It's not only against our school's policy, but it's also wrong in every way. Violence is not the answer."

"You're wrong," Osamu muttered under nose.

"What did you say?"

Osamu shrugged his arms.

"Enough of this. I'm calling your parents."

They won't happy with me, but then they never have.

Osamu returned home with his parents. In the principal office, his parents had agreed with everything what the principal and the teacher had said. They had promised them that they would talk sense into their son's head. Talk? Right? They hadn't done nothing than beating his son up, at least, for last six years.

As soon they returned home, Osamu's father slapped his son over his face. "You're pathetic brat. How dare you embarrass me and your mother. We're giving you everything you need, and that's how you repay us?" Osamu received more hits.

He would usually dodged them. Osamu had learned how to avoid hits and punches from his father. It hadn't always worked as eventually he would still get hit, but at least he hadn't receive every hit or punch. Unfortunately, Osamu's mum had never stood up in his defence. She actually agreed with her husband treatment towards their son.

"What do we need to do to teach you how to behave?" Osamu's father punched him into his arm.

"I am behaving! Those kids were making fun of my hair, again. I even cut it thinking that they would stop it, but they didn't." Osamu liked having his hair long, and he hated that he had to cut it. He hated even more that it was all for nothing.

"How dare you raise your voice at your father!" His mum shouted.

"Because I had enough! You've never been on my side! Neither of you! I hate you!" Blood boiled inside Osamu. He breathed heavily.

"You hated us, huh?" Osamu's father started to pull out his belt from his trousers. "I'll give you the real reason to hate us, you brat." Osamu's father hit him. He ended up on the floor. With every hit, his hatred towards his parents rose. Tears flew out of his eyes. He wanted to stop them. He hated being weak, but he couldn't help it. After ten minutes or maybe hours, Osamu's father stopped, panting. "I need a drink."

"I'll bring you a beer, darling." Osamu's mother offered.

Osamu just laid on floor and ignored all the voices around him. He wanted to get up, but his body was all sore. He wished his parents would pay for their treatment toward him. He wished the kids from the school would pay for mocking him. He wished his teachers and principal would pay for not being on his side and not providing him with support.

He raised his head and looked around. His parents weren't there. They probably were in the bedroom. Osamu didn't even hear when they had left. He forced himself to stand up. With his legs shaking, he walked towards the couch and fell on it. If only he could teach his parents lesson. Thoughts were buzzing in Osamu's head when he remembered that his father kept his gun in his study room.

Would he actually be able to kill his own parents? To have their blood on his hands? Osamu stared at his trembling hands and imagined the red blood of his parents. It was weird, but he didn't feel scared. He was relieved. It hit him now. Why should he feel remorse towards people who had been beating him and shouting him everyday. No, he wouldn't feel sorry for his parents. They would pay for everything they had done.

Osamu raised from the couch, more confident, and went to the study to grab the gun. Luckily, his parents didn't catch him in the act. Osamu's father kept his gun in the desk's drawer. Osamu opened it and took out the gun. His hands weren't trembling anymore. He actually never felt so confident about anything before. Soon his nightmare would finish.

He walked to his parents bedroom.

"Hey brat, have you had not en-" Osamu's father's eyes widened in shock. "What -"

Osamu pulled the trigger, and the bullet went through Osamu's father skull.

Osamu's mother screamed, but before she could do something, Osamu shot her as well.

Osamu watched as the blood was flowing from his parents' heads, smile on his face. He let out a loud laughter. "Finally! I'm free!" He jumped with joy. "What you're gonna do now, huh? Nothing! Because, you're dead! You're dead!" Osamu jumped on the bed and sighed. His eyes shined with happiness. Now everything would change.

When Osamu had thought that everything would change, he hadn't meant that he would ended up in the interrogation room. Apparently, his neighbours had heard the gun shots and called the police. The police turned up in ten minutes after he had shot his parents. Osamu had tried to run, but it had turned out to be difficult against two well-built police-men. He should predict that, and ran right after he killed his parents. Now he had to be stuck with that stupid police officer and psychologist.

"Otsuki Osamu, are you aware of why you're here?" The police officer asked.

"I killed my parents, but to be honest you police should be thankful. They were beating me up and I think that's a crime, isn't it."

"You're right it's a crime. However, the murder is a crime too," The psychologist responded, looking with pity at Osamu.

"So what? They deserved it!"

"I know it must be hard for you, but deep down you must regret what you have done," the psychologist said.

"Regret?" Osamu laughed. "I'm relieved. I should kill them ages ago. My only regret is that I didn't run, before the police arrived."

"Satoshi, this boy is a lost case. He needs to be sent to the boys institution, where he would be learned discipline," The police officer answered.

"I won't go anywhere!" Osamu leapt of his chair, his hands were cuffed together with the chain connected to the table.

"You've no choice. You're committed the crime, now, you have to pay for it. Well, first you need to go through the trials, and then we see exactly where they put you in."

"You need to be more gentle with him, Daisuke-san," Satoshi said.

"I would be more gentle if I could see regret in this boy's eyes. But I see none of it."

"And you never will. I will never regret that I murdered my parents. I will never have any remorse never!"

Sweat-drops fell of Satoshi's and Daisuke's foreheads. With satisfaction, Osamu noticed fear in their eyes. Maybe that what Osamu should do from now on. Inflict fear in people, so they wouldn't treat him as he's something less. Insignificant.

Two months after, Osamu was on his way to the court for his first trial. Handcuffed between two police-men in the back of the police car. Within those two months, he hadn't changed at all. He still didn't regret of getting rid of his parents. His heart wanted to jump out with joy every time he recalled their blooded bodies. However, he gritted his teeth on the though that he would have spend next years closed in some institution or maybe even prison. If somehow he could get away.

Something bumped in the back of the police car. If Osamu wouldn't wear his seat-belt, then he would fly to the front.

"What the hell!" The police officer behind the wheel exclaimed.

Osamu looked behind and saw black car that hit them again, this time with more force.

"I'm losing control!" The police officer shouted.

"Get hold of it!" The other police-man from the passenger said.

"I'm trying. I'll need to stop the car. All of you be on the high alert. I don't know why this car is attacking us, but they would have to respond to us!"

"Yes!"

The police officer hit the breaks, and car stopped. It happened so quickly that Osamu didn't even have time to think. As soon as the police officer and his accomplices left the car, they were shot.

Osamu all shaking released his seat-belt and slowly he crawled to the end of the car. He saw the dead bodies of all police-men. Was he going to be next? He didn't want to die. He had to run, before it was to late.

"Hello boy."

Osamu screamed on the sight of the American woman.

"Don't be afraid. We're here to rescue you."

We?

"This mission went easier than I thought, Vermouth." A Japanese man with grey hair showed up.

"But next time, you should be more careful Pisco. What if the boy got hurt."

"Well, he didn't."

"What do you want from me!" Osamu yelled, his fists clenched.

"I like your attitude, boy. Full of fight. That's what exactly we need." American woman smirked.

"I don't understand."

"It's simple, boy. Our boss decided to recruit you in their organisation. And your job will be, well pretty much what you've done to your parents and what we've just done to those police-men," The Japanese man explained.

"And why should I agree to it?" Osamu asked.

Vermouth crouched in front of Osamu. "Tell me, how do you feel about killing your parents or about deaths of those police-men?"

"You sound just like my psychologist, but if you really need to know. I've never felt happier in my life."

Vermouth smiled. "Exactly. Our organisation needs someone who won't feel any remorse on killing innocent people."

"My parents weren't innocent!"

"I apologize, I didn't mean your parents, but people that you will kill in the future if you work for us."

"I wouldn't call all those people innocent. They all deserved to die," Pisco snorted.

"Well, those people's families were surely innocent," Vermouth pointed out.

"Whatever."

Vermouth turned to Osamu, smile still on her lips. "If you joined us I promise you, you won't regret it. If you come with us you're life will have meaning again. We would give you everything you want and need as long as it won't mess with the organisation's plans."

"The organisation's existence is top-secret, so you'll be forbidden from telling anyone about it unless you want to ended up dead, kid," Pisco said with serious voice.

"Who would I even tell. Besides what this organisation do. Killing police-men?"

"Only high-members know about the true goal. But I can say it has to do with the science project. But don't worry about it. Your job will be to kill anybody who will get in the way of the organisation's plans," Vermouth explained.

"Unless you don't have gut for it," Pisco said.

"Decision is yours," Vermouth said.

Osamu pondered. If he would go with them, then his life would change drastically. He would have to kill more people, including innocents. Would Osamu have guts for it as Pisco expressed it. However, his life had no meaning right now. It lacked purpose. Maybe, Vermouth was right. His life would have purpose again if he started to work for them. After all they rescued him from long years closed in the institution or jail.

"Fine. I'll go with you." Osamu said, confidence in his voice.

"Okay, kid, pop-in." Pisco opened the door to his car.

"By the way, I like your silver hair." Vermouth smiled.

Osamu blushed. She was the first one who complimented his hair. Or anything of his for that matter.

The road to the organisation's hideout was quite long. Moreover, Osamu had to wear the blind-fold, which didn't make him happy.

"Come on, I won't tell anyone."

"Sorry, boy. That's the rule," Vermouth said.

"By the way, my name's Otsuki Osamu."

"You'll receive your own code-name like us and you'll forget about your real name," Pisco said.

"I wouldn't mind that. This name only remind me of my parents. And I want nothing more than to forget about them. By the way, will my code-name be after the alcohol, as well?"

"Firstly, you'll need to prove you're worth of it," Pisco explained.

"We're here." Vermouth took the blind-fold off Osamu's eyes.

They arrived at the old big mansion in the middle of nowhere. "It doesn't really look impressive," Osamu stated.

"Trust me. It's more impressive inside," Vermouth said.

"Also, it looks better from our last hideout," Pisco added.

"What happened to it?" Osamu asked.

"It got burnt down," Vermouth said, a blank expression on her face.

"Okay, enough of this. The boss wants to talk to you, kid."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Come on." Pisco pushed Osamu towards the mansion.

Osamu felt little anxious inside. What if the boss would not like him, and decided to kill him on the spot or throw him away. He swallowed on thoughts of dying. He did not want his life to go to waste. He wanted it to have meaning. He would have to prove to the boss that he was worthy to work for them.

Osamu, Vermouth and Pisco walked inside the mansion. Osamu saw few couches, coffee tables, some book-shelves and two televisions.

"It looks so – normal."

"The ground floor looks like any other house. Underground – that the place where you find all the fun things." Vermouth smirked. "Come, on."

"I will leave you two," Pisco said, "I have some business to do."

Osamu followed Vermouth to the long hallway. She went to the third door on the right and pressed the handle. After few seconds, the door opened itself, but it didn't lead to a room, but to the lift.

They went inside and Vermouth pressed number three on the pad. The lift went down.

"You don't need to be so tensed. The boss won't bite you." Vermouth smiled. "Besides, you won't see the boss in person."

"What do you mean?"

But before Vermouth could respond. The lift's door opened. The corridor was smaller than from the upstairs, and there was only one door.

"You're on your own, now, Osamu."

"Won't you go with me," Osamu said with disappointment.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." After this, Vermouth turned on her heel and returned to the lift.

Osamu took a deep breath. "I can do it." He straight up, confident expression on his face as he knocked on the door.

"Come in." To Osamu's surprise, he heard a child's voice. Vermouth didn't mention that the boss has a kid.

Osamu came inside, and the first thing he noticed was a small television on a table.

"I'm happy you arrived here, Osamu-kun." A joyful voice of a child came from the television, though it didn't showed a face.

"Huh? Don't tell me the boss is a child." Osamu sounded confused.

"Trust me I wish. I use a child voice to mask my real voice," the boss explained. "I read the article about your situation. It's really tragic. I am very sorry of how your parents treated you. Tell me what you felt while you killed your parents and what you felt after it."

Osamu was tired of all these questions about killing his parents. However, the boss didn't sound all concerned. Osamu actually could hear the excitement in the boss' voice .

"While I killed my parents I felt vengeful. Angry for the way my parents abused me. However, after I killed them." A smile appeared on Osamu's lips. "I felt so happy. So free. And my only regret was that I didn't think of it sooner," Osamu said bitterly.

"Tell me, Osamu-kun. What exactly happened when you killed your parents? Did you get angry with them and killed them straight away or did you plan it before?"

"My dad beat me up again, and my mum was all supportive of him. While I was laying on the floor, my whole body aching with pain and rage, I wished my parents to get punished." Osamu clenched his fists. "So, I went to the study room and I grabbed my dad's gun from there."

"Did you have any doubts about killing your parents?"

"Only once before I went to get a gun. However, when I imagined my parents' red blood on my hands, then I realized I shouldn't feel any remorse towards them."

"Perfect. I would also like to hear what made you to decide to come here. "

"When I was at the police station I was angry that I would have been send to some boys institution or prison for something I didn't think it was wrong to do. My parents deserved to die. But neither my psychologist or the police-men could see it this way. So after Vermouth and Pisco rescued me from those police-men I felt relieved that I wasn't going to ended up in some institution or prison.

"After I killed my parents there was no purpose in my life. Nothing to do. But here it's different. My life will regain meaning. It will also help me not to be scared. People around me always inflicted fear in me. But when I saw that I made the psychologist and the police-man scared I felt proud. I decided then I want to inflict fear in people not other way around. You rescued me from the empty scaring life and I believe this organisation will teach me how not to be scared. I'll always feel grateful that you decided to take the chance on me." Osamu bowed.

"As long as you'll be faithful to me and this organisation, then your wish will come true. Starting from tomorrow, you'll start the training under Vermouth. Now you can go."

"Come on Osamu, it's time to wake up."

Osamu grunted and rubbed his eyes. Vermouth leaned over him, smile on her lips. Osamu turned and looked on the clock on the wall. "It's five am."

"Of course it is. You didn't expect to start your first training at twelve, did you? Get shower and get dressed, I'll meet you in the hall where we eat breakfast together."

Vermouth provided him with clothes (there were all black). He quickly used a shower and put black trousers and T-shirt on, and went to meet Vermouth.

She was sitting at the table eating a sandwich. "So, are we going to kill somebody?"

Vermouth laughed. "Wow, I'm glad you're eager to do your job, but it's early for that. Firstly, I'll need to train you and teach you everything. Let's start with your stamina. After breakfast, we'll go for a run,"

"A run? I thought you would teach me how to use different types of weapons," Osamu said disappointed while he sat at the table and grabbed a sandwich.

"Yes, and after we'll go to a gym to lift some weights. Gym's is in here in this mansion," Vermouth explained as she saw Osamu's confused look. "When you'll work on the field, it's important for you to be in the good shape. You may ended up running after your target. So, it would be bad if you couldn't kill your target just because you were slow."

Osamu frowned.

"Time for some short run."

The short run was one hour. "Not bad kid, but I noticed you slowed down in the middle of our run, so you'll need to work on that. Now, let's hit the gym."

Osamu was all sweaty, but still determinate to receive more training. However, he couldn't wait to learn how to use weapons like guns. But he could see Vermouth's point about keeping his body in good shape.

In the gym, Osamu spent three hours with only one short break. He lifted weights, went on trade mills and stretch machines.

"I- am – going – to – die," Osamu panted.

"Nobody said it would be easy. Now, go to take a shower. After, meet me on the first floor underground, second door on the right," Vermouth said.

After Osamu took a shower and put clean clothes on, he went to see Vermouth. To Osamu's excitement, he saw three handguns on a table and target boards on his right. He noticed few holes in them.

"Finally. I'll be able to shoot. I was hoping to people, but the targets will do too."

"Not so fast. Firstly you'll need to learn everything about the guns. How many bullets each gun can fire, how far they can fire the bullets. Where is the best place to keep the gun on you you and so on." Vermouth put out a thick book, notebook and a pen. "Sit down, listen and take notes."

"Seriously! I didn't come here to be treated like some kind of student! I want to learn how to kill! How to kill people in a professional way!" Osamu shouted.

Vermouth sighed. "Impatience. Another thing you'll need to work on. You're saying you want to learn how to kill in a professional way? Well, that's what we're doing right now. Before you'll hold your weapon, firstly, you need to know everything about it. Don't think it's enough to just pull the trigger.

"Also if you won't learn how to control your emotions and be patient, you'll never be send on a mission. Impatience can easily ruin a mission, and trust me you would get killed straight away for that."

"Fine, let's do it."

After two hours of taking notes, Vermouth called it a day.

"Are we finished? It's just around one. We still could do some more training," Osamu said, hope in his voice.

"Yes, you can train your patience, by waiting when I'll teach how to use guns."

Osamu grunted. "You're horrible."

Vermouth smirked. "Be careful. You may ended up dead for those words."

"Are you serious?"

"Well, I'm kind of boss' favourite. "

Next day started the same as the previous one. Shower, breakfast, run, gym. Osamu didn't get his hopes up about being taught how to use the guns. However, he was surprised, when Vermouth ordered him to do tests about what he had learned yesterday about the guns.

"You didn't say anything about the test."

"It's part of your training. To be prepared for the unexpected and also test your memory. Did you go through your notes yesterday?"

"I did, but I didn't really revise them."

"Well, let's test your knowledge. You have one hour."

After an hour, Osamu handed the test to Vermouth.

"Eighty-two percent. Hmm, not bad. I actually expected it would be less than that. But there's still things we'll need to go through it."

"Is there any chance that I'll use a gun today."

"No." Vermouth said firmly.

Blood was boiling inside Osamu, his fists clenched. He was so close to burst out again, but he knew it wouldn't help him.

"I see you start to learn."

"I guess I've no much of a choice."

"You're right."

Osamu's next week was repetitive and boring. Vermouth kept saying it was to teach him how to be patient. However, Osamu started to suspect that Vermouth was enjoying it, and she was doing it to irritate him as well.

Finally, the day where Osamu was about finally to learn how to use different types of guns in practice came.

Firstly, he started with small guns and close distant.

"During the missions, there would be different situations. Sometimes, you'll need to kill your target from close distance, sometimes from mid-distance and sometimes from afar. I will teach you everything about this. At first we'll focus on unmoving target. After we'll move to the moving targets."

"I'm so excited. This week were my best days I ever have. I feel like I was reborn again."

"I'm happy you feel this way. I'm proud of the progress you made during this week. Even though it's not easy, you didn't turned around and give up. You want to be here and that's important."

During next two months, Osamu went through an intensive training. He wasn't just taught about guns, but he also had to learn the stuff from school. Osamu was annoyed at first, but Vermouth explained the Organisation needed intelligent and knowledgeable people. Vermouth actually went beyond the school material.

So everyday, in the morning, Vermouth taught Osamu theories of different topics and afternoon, he practised to use the guns. Also, he didn't missed an early morning run or a gym session.

Even though, there were moments where Osamu felt frustrated when he didn't get something right for the first time or the things didn't go his way, he wouldn't go back to old life in million years. This place was his home now.

"Great news, the boss will send you to your first mission with me."

Osamu's eyes shined with excitement. "Am I going to kill somebody?"

"Yes and not just one person, but four. Mother, father, son and daughter."

"Why they need to be killed?"

"Because of our young stupid scientist. He ordered from this man who runs a chemist shop, too many of different stuff for the science project. And the chemist's owner found this suspicious. Pisco agreed to meet with this man tomorrow to explain the misunderstanding. However, he will never meet him as we would kill him and his family today."

"What about the other employees of the chemist shop?"

"Don't worry they will be taken care off."

"I did some research, and the chemist's owner has a dinner with his family everyday at six o'clock. So, just after six, we'll go to his house. You'll pretend to be a friend of his kids, while I pretend to be your mum. When he will lead us to the dining room, you'll kill them right away. No hesitation. You understand."

"Yes."

"Good. I need to go to change. You also go to put your coat with high collar and hat. Your silver hair are quite unique." Vermouth smiled at Osamu.

During last few months, Osamu grew his hair long again. He was proud of it. It was a sign for him not to be scared anymore.

Osamu waited for Vermouth outside. However, it wasn't Vermouth who showed up, but a woman with short black hair and green eyes.

"Who are you? Where's Vermouth."

"I'm your mum, Osamu-kun."

Osamu's eyes widened. "Don't tell me you..."

"Yes, it's me." Vermouth smiled through her disguise.

"Even the voice it's different."

"Impressive, huh?

"Yeah."

"You have your gun and the silencer?"

"Yes."

"Good, let's go."

Getting inside the chemist's owner's house was quite easy. Osamu only said he's a friend of his kids and Vermouth was pretending to be the over-protective mother. Osamu felt awkward pretending to be a friend of people he didn't even know. He could feel his body going tensed inside, but fortunately the chemist' owner didn't notice it.

He invite them to the dining room. As soon as they found themselves there, Osamu took out the gun and shoot the chemist's owner in his chest. His wife screamed. Osamu without a second hesitation, shoot her in her head. Their son and daughter also screamed and leapt off their chairs, but before they could run, Osamu shot them as well in their chests.

Vermouth clapped. "Wow. You did so well. Tell me, honestly, do you feel any remorse to those innocent people."

"No, not all. I feel excitement watching the bodies covered in red." Osamu raised his gun to shoot at the dead body of the chemist's owner, but Vermouth stopped him.

"We've no time for this. I need to leave a bomb, so it would cover our traces."

Osamu and Vermouth were called to the boss' office after he and Vermouth returned. Once again he talked to the boss through the television. Vermouth explained how the mission went.

"Osamu did his mission perfectly. The only thing I can complain about it's his acting skills, but other than that I believe he's ready."

Osamu decided to ignore the part about his acting skills. However, he felt proud of himself. He wanted to jump in joy, but he would look childish if he would do that.

"As you proved your worth from now you'll be called Gin," the Boss stated.

A broad smile appeared on Gin's face. "Thank you so much. I hated my name. Now, everyone will know me as Gin from now on."