15: Hierarchy

It is frequently forgotten, or ignored, by the general public that the criminal underworld actually does have a hierarchy… and even a moral code. There is in fact 'honor among thieves' as it were. Even less known is that despite (or possibly because of) his no-hurt policy Kaitou 1412 is actually ranked rather high in this hierarchy. This is not because of any hidden willingness to injure or kill, but instead due to a willingness to interact with the police and fearlessness in the face of the law. In other words, KID was not someone to cross because he was not afraid to help the police cross off names on their 'most wanted' list.

So, known only among the members of the underworld, there was a general rule: don't touch what the Kaitou KID claims as his. Unfortunately a certain Black Organization was powerful enough to feel exempt from this rule.

It used to be commonly known that attempting anything with one Kudo Shinichi would mean the culprit would always be caught quickly and efficiently. A notion that Kaitou KID waltzed over as though it didn't exist, and the Black Organization was (unfortunately) once again exempt.

Currently it is commonly known that anyone who faces Mouri Kogoro (and less well known: Edogawa Conan) will meet the same end as if it were Kudo Shinichi who were being faced.

Known only by the criminal element of lesser renown, is that Mouri Kogoro and his family (including his ward) are listed as one of Kaitou KID's possessions; officially because Conan the 'KID killer' is the moonlight magician's favorite opponent. (A lie that both keeps Conan off the Black Organization's hit list and yet also gives incentive to the pettier criminals to leave the apparent eight year old and his associates alone in any attempts at vengeance.) As the underworld knows: if you want to remain free, don't ever touch what the Kaitou KID claims. After all, kaitou are notoriously territorial.

Of course there are always criminals who are too new to know the rules and some who are too stupid to follow them, but when they aren't… it makes a very strange meeting with one very confused chibi-tantei.

The case had started out as a typical murder; it was the discovery that it was done by a gang that had kept the case open. Still, true to form… Conan had quickly tracked down said gang in his search for justice. Following behind on his solar-powered skateboard, Conan had managed to single-handedly corner all five members. It was all predictable until the thugs started discussing what they should do. Now, the detective was stuck listening in bemusement as they argued their points.

"He's just one kid", said a bulky guy in a red hat, "we could just take him out of the picture here." "Nah, nah!" Exclaimed another (with a tattoo of a fish on his arm), "he called 'imself Edogawa Conan! That li''le tantei is the 'KID killer' and was claimed by 'im!" A tall thin thug backed Fish-tattoo up saying, "if he found out we killed his favorite… we'd be done for!" Then Red-hat spoke up again, "well if we stay here we're done for anyway!" Tall-thin threw his hands up in despair, "we're doomed either way!"

Tired of the other three's panicked shouting the fourth gangster, with a bandana tied around his arm stepped in, "oi, oi! How 'bout one of us hold him an' the coppers off while tha others make a break for it." Red-hat growled, "none of us are going to go for that! Who wants to spend their life in prison!?"

"Hnn? It wouldn't be your whole life", Conan spoke up in amusement, "if it's only one murder you've got on you, then I'd say anywhere from five to fifteen years, less with good behavior."

Four of the five gangsters glared at him, while the fifth and most level headed just looked at him with calm consideration. Calm turned to the others, "okay, as leader I'm making a consecutive decision. If we kill him we'll have that guy on our backs; if we make a break for it, even if we all don't escape, the cops and that kid will track us down like animals. We never meant to actually kill that guy… so… if we turn ourselves in we might be able to plea for a shorter sentence." They all nodded at his logic. "We surrender!" They chorused, and put their hands up just as the cops Conan had called arrived.

Much to the shrunken detective's annoyance, he never got a chance to ask who it was they were so afraid of having after them if they had killed him. Shrugging, Conan slipped his hands in his pockets and made his way back to the Mouris and remained ignorantly unaware of the hierarchy of the criminal underworld.