Chapter 49

Ballrooms and Ice Boxes

There was a violent shake, the screech of ripping metal, and the sudden heat of billowing smog. Shinichi winced as he fell to the wooden floors of the cruise corridor. Landing beside him, Ran cried out as her skin scraped against the rough exteriors. As the hum of the vehicle's engine ceased, Shinichi realized the cruise had come to a grinding halt.

Once again, there was a resounding boom. It rang in their ears and Ran gasped, looking at Shinichi in recognition.

A bomb?

All around, chaos reigned. Others were on the floor as well. He could hear cries from the reception he had just left. Ran, who had begun to pick herself from the floor, was grimacing from the impact.

A faint popping echoed in the strong breeze. Shinichi couldn't hear it clearly, but it was definitely— gunshots.

For a terrifying second, Shinichi imagined a frightening scenario involving a one-eyed beast.

"What is going on, Shinichi?" Ran exclaimed.

It was an unexpected development. He recalls the conversation between Satoru and Junichiro Takizaki, and then the answer struck him like a truck.

In an instant, Shinichi fetched his detective badge from his side. "Shiho!" he called out, anxious for the girl who was very much alone, "Shiho, answer m—"

He paused, eyes widening at the pungent stench. So rancid it smelt like rotten eggs left to stew in an enclosed room for days. As stinging sensations surged through Shinichi's nostrils, he collapsed to his knees, coughing violently. Eyes watering, he noticed a cloud of thick white smoke rushing through the corridors and into the rooms.

Knockout gas?

"R..Ran!" he reached for the girl who was hacking rapidly. Eyes drooping with heavy leaded lids, Shinichi felt like he was being weighed down by an anvil.

"Shi..ho," he collapsed, greeted by darkness.

"Conan-kun! Conan-kun!"

He was prodded back to consciousness by desperate harsh whispers. Attempting to roll over, he groaned and failed. Trying to open his eyelids, he found that they were heavy, stuck together like glue. Regaining his senses, he tried again. He managed to open them this time. His vision was blurry, and he took time to readjust to the scene before him.

The first thing Shinichi noticed was the white, pristine ceiling and then the concerned visage of the Suzuki Heiress. "You've finally woken up, brat," Sonoko cried in relief, almost in tears. Shinichi noticed that her hands and legs were tightly bound by rope.

"W...what..." he stammered. His lips were dry, and his throat hurt. A common aftereffect of knockout gas. All around, he could hear moans and groans of people starting to wake.

"Where is Haibara?" he mustered as soon as he could speak.

"No idea," Sonoko motions with frightened eyes, the girl strangely cautious. After much effort and wriggling like a worm, he managed to prop himself up against…glass windows?

The gravity of the situation hits him, and his gaze hardened. They were likely at the top of the ship, near the bridge. If he remembered correctly from the tours they were given, this particular room had been converted into a ballroom. A circular nook equipped with dining tables and chairs that had been used to block the entrance—and exit. The azure skies and oceans were visible through the large clear glass windows surrounding them. Normally, it would make for some beautiful scenery, but the circumstances at present were anything but.

There were screams when the guests noticed the crooked pile stacked in the middle of the grand ballroom. There was a sharp metallic odor, and red liquid seeped into expensive persian carpets covering oak-wood floors.

The wealthy guests of the Takizaki's charity cruise are now being held, hostage. Like Shinichi, they were all bound and positioned around the circumference of the room. They stared horrified at the bodies of ten dead bodyguards arranged and piled up like puppets. Bullet holes punctured their foreheads. Blank eyes and gaping mouths greeted the living. Shinichi winced at the sight, recognizing some guards who had been protecting Junichiro Takizaki before.

Turning his gaze away from the grotesque sight, he spotted Ran and Jirokichi Suzuki, and he sighed in relief as he identified various members of the police force and Inspector Nakamori, who, fortunately, was seated beside them.

At this point, Shinichi was sure. This was not the work of the phantom thief. To begin with, Kaitou Kid would never have killed anyone. The prospect of the missing scientist and the revelation that she had been with another Ran told him all that he needed to know.

Though his concerns persisted, he recomposed himself—taking comfort in the fact that, at the very least, the scientist was probably in safe hands.

His attention returned to the scene in front of him.

Persistent screams continued as the guest realized that the towering structure positioned in the middle of the room was made up of dead bodies. Inspector Nakabori shouted in alarm as a series of loud, distinct pops resonated, silencing the hostages immediately.

Ran and Jirokichi immediately shuffled protectively in front of Shinichi and Sonoko. Due to their limited mobility, they slid across the carpeted floor like caterpillars.

A man was standing atop the stage at the front of the room. Shinichi recognized him as the private guard who had checked them when they first entered the ship. In his grip, he held a pistol that was smoking. With practiced ease, he pulled out the magazine and inspected it before sliding it back in.

A companion accompanied him. A slightly taller individual, dressed in the usual black uniform that all bodyguards wear, held an AK-47 pointed toward the Takizakis.

What were they doing?

On dining chairs, Satoru and Junichiro Takizaki sat on the same stage. Hands tightly tied behind the back. Their feet were bound together. Their lips were taped over, and they stared at the two "bodyguards" who held them. Beside the men kneeling on the ground and left unbound were a woman and a girl. A child seven years of age. The strange look on Junichiro's face made Shinichi realize it was probably his family.

Why were they there?

In response to his questions, the taller man aimed the AK-47 at them and held it over their heads. Junichiro was struggling hard. From his sealed lips came muffled cries of desperation.

It was then that Shinichi discovered the camera stand directed at the stage. In addition to the video camera, there was a projector next to it.

They were recording…a live feed.

"Conan-kun," his childhood friend whispered, and Shinichi nodded.

This was a hostage situation, but judging from the dead bodies situated in the middle of the room…it seemed more like a—

The intimidating bodyguard made his move. The disguise he wore was torn away. His latex mask peeled off to reveal a scarred face that Shinichi recognized immediately.

Natsu Ito. Leader of Kizuna-Kai. The yakuza group, who had disguised themselves as Taizen Shipping yards and Co, and reported the Takizaki's illegal dumping activities.

There was a scar running down the left side of his cheek. As he took off his black coat, he revealed his tattoos. Intricate and menacing the Chinese tiger that ran down his left arm was imposing and threatening.

The hardened look in his gaze was directed toward Junichiro. With a slow smirk, he signals to the taller man, who also pulls off his disguise.

Shinichi recognized him as well. Natsu Ito's henchmen—Aoki Subaru. He was equally or even more intimidating than Natsu himself. With steely green eyes, the bald-headed man pressed the rifle against Junichiro's wife and daughter. He was quite buff. The muscle was taut against the white blouse he wore. According to Heiji, they were inseparable. Where Natsu went, Aoki followed. The Osaka detective had also mentioned that Natsu had another loyal follower. A Touma Suzuki who seemed to be missing at the moment.

And suddenly, the mystery of Takizaki's missing cargo made sense. Kizuna-Kai, Natsu Ito was probably behind the fiasco.

But why go to such lengths?

Something did not add up, and Shinichi fiddled with the ropes bounding his wrist. He could not feel his watch. The item was likely confiscated when they were unconscious.

He had to have something...

Feeling around, he smiled in triumph as he felt a small lump in his pocket. The detective badge.

Attempting to loosen the rope, he struggled with his ties. They needed to get out of this situation.

Natsu Ito's fury, the video cameras, and the stage show told Shinichi that this wouldn't end well.

"What do we do, uncle?" Sonoko whispered shakily to Jirokichi. The older man, observing the scene, was at a loss.

"We need to escape this," he answered a few seconds later. "Boy," Jirokichi faced him, "I suspect you—"

Another series of shots interrupted them. Women and men from wealthy delegations screeched as blood poured from Junichiro's shoulder.

Natsu seemed entirely focused on the man. An obsession festered underneath a smoldering gaze. Taking a chair from his henchman, Natsu sat before Junichiro, leaning close to the wealthy conglomerate. In a swift motion, he tore the tape from the man's lips.

Junichiro yowled from the sudden force.

"Who are you? What do you want? Do you know who we are!? You won't be able to get away with thi—"

His rant was stopped by a hard punch. It was accompanied by faint shrieks from the hostages and a series of sharp gasps. In shock, Junichiro could only cry out as Natsu landed a couple more hard punches. In minutes, the powerful conglomerate was covered in purple, swollen bruises. Taking in the scene, his wife and daughter sat erect in wide-eyed horror.

Then, Natsu stopped. Taking out a handkerchief, the Yakuza leader of Kizuna-Kai, wiped the smear of red across his knuckles. "You don't seem to understand," he said in a soft but menacing tone. Like a shark circling its prey. Relishing at the moment. "That there are some enemies you just don't make."

On cue, Aoki switches on a projector. A picture of an old man was projected on the screen behind him. It was apparent that he was malnourished. He had soft white wispy hair and sunken cheekbones and ribs that poked out from his chest. He wore rags that were mended and frayed in some places. Even so, the man bore a sunny smile. Although he was missing teeth, the joy on his wrinkled face told a different story.

"What..." Junichiro whispered, forced by Aoki to look at the screen behind him. "What the hell do you want?"

"Are you unaware?" Aoki spat, "Shall I enlighten you?"

"Why would I tell you anything!?" Junichiro shouted again.

It was the wrong answer, and without a second thought, Natsu raised his pistol. As he pulled the trigger, there were screams. The bullet ripped through Junichiro's flesh, leaving him in agony as blood spewed uncontrollably from the side of his face. With a sickening thud, his left ear dropped to the ground.

"No!" Jirokichi seethes.

"Now," Natsu leans forward, pressing his forehead against the screaming man, "it's time to right the wrongs."

A sharp, throbbing sensation ripped through her temples. Her lips felt dry, and she could barely focus. Her eyes seemed glued shut by a powerful magnet. Thinking about it, Shiho was suddenly reminded of a corpse magnet, and she gasped. The abrupt waking sent her reeling. Nausea took over, and Shiho found herself coughing. Everything hurts. Her back, shoulders, cheeks, throat, eyes…everything.

Groaning, she scrambled for a sense of direction. Shiho could barely remember what had led her to this situation. All she recalled was going on a cruise…a phone call regarding Rum himself, and—

Immediately getting up, she whirled around. Her head spun as she took in her surroundings. The room was dark, and she could barely see what was before her. Even so, Shiho could see objects swaying from the rocking motion of what she could only assume was a stationary cruise bouncing along the waves. The sides were lined with steel-studded racks and shelves, and Shiho spotted some cans and containers placed neatly on them. Some of the cans had been displaced and were rolling along a—frosty ground?

There was a distinct stench in the air. While not pungent, it was not particularly pleasant. The walls had a silvery quality to them. A reflective sheen. It was also unusually cold. Unbearably so. Shiho could see faint mist escaping from her erratic breaths. Wrapping her arms around, she realized she was wearing a blue jeans jacket that was much too large for her.

She was not—

Alone.

On cue, a hand was placed on her lips. It was the warmest thing in the room she was in. There, before her, was the raven-haired beauty, and the memories came rushing back.

Kaitou Kid.

He was still disguised as Ran and seeing that cunning smirk plastered on her face was slightly disturbing. It did not suit the kind girl, and Shiho had an uncanny desire to rip his mask right off.

Through the dimness of what Shiho could only suspect was Cruise's industrial freezer room, she spots the thief's tensed demur. He glared intently at the looming iron doors that were partially open, allowing the wispy mist to leak out.

Prying Kaitou Kid's hands away, she steps on his feet to get his attention. He twitched, wincing before glaring at her with indignation.

"What happened?" she whispered, "Who are we—"

He silenced her again. Annoyed, she was about to give him a piece of her mind when she froze. Hurried footsteps echoed. Heavy army boots thudding against steel flooring. Passing the slit of the slightly opened freezer doors, Shiho catches sight of a man. Donning a black suit that was being worn by most of the bodyguards, he held an AK rifle in his grip. It was almost like an extension of his body. He had steely sharp gray eyes that reminded Shiho of the wolf she saw in documentaries. Unrelenting and focussed, they seemed to gleam in the darkness.

Though bald and baby-faced, Shiho knew the towering man was not to be messed with.

They were being hunted. The man standing outside was a threat. That was the only conclusion. As much as she hated being stuck in this predicament with the notorious thief, he was her only means out of this predicament.

As the muscular man scanned the surroundings, she held her breath. Using one of the hanging pig's meat as a cover, Kaitou Kid shields her. The beady eyes of the slaughtered animal stare at them with frosty blankness. An unnerving sight. One that Shiho had seen many times. The dead, after all, had a way of finding their way to the corpse magnet.

Shinichi.

She grimaced at the mere thought.

Please be safe.

Kaitou Kid then released her. A muted sigh escaped the thief's lips. Looking cautiously at the entrance, he then turned his attention to her.

"There has been a hijacking," he replied, with none of the playful tones he used to tease law enforcement.

"And we're in an industrial freezer near the cargo area before you interrogate me further," he continued as he edged closer to the partially opened doors. Searching for the man who was stalking them.

Shiho observes him carefully. "Where are the rest?"

"Taken, dragged away, and tied."

"Where?" she emphasized, and he raised a brow.

"In case you haven't noticed, that hasn't been my priority," he scoffed, "Dragging an unconscious child while trying to remain unnoticed is hard enough."

"Ara and I thought the Kaitou Kid was capable of anything."

"I appreciate the kind words."

"How were you able to remain conscious anyway?"

"As you said, I am the Kaitou Kid...I am capable of anything," he said, forgetting to use his voice changer. "And secondly, a word of thanks would be nice."

Narrowing her eyes, she folded her arms.

"To my knight in shining armor," she emphasized, "I cannot thank you enough...for separating me from my group."

She offered the sweetest smile she could muster in response to his obvious disdain.

"I thought that pint-sized detective was bad, but you… you're a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

"Always."

The thief, disguised as Ran, was about to retort when he stopped. Once again, heavy footsteps approached. He grabs her and pushes her into the back of the freezer closet. Grabbing a piece of frozen ham, Kaitou Kid faced the exit. Almost immediately, Shiho heard the sound of iron doors slamming into the frosty closet's metal walls.

Standing before them was—

That man.

Time was running out.

The gut feeling every time Shinichi had a hunch was churning uncomfortably. Trying to free his wrist from the constricting rope, he swallowed. Their ties were professional and tight. The Yakuza members are clearly experts in this endeavor. Shinichi winced as rough fibers cut into his skin, and he hid precariously behind Ran, who was studying him with sharp eyes. She had noticed him wriggling a few minutes before and was using her body to shield him from the Yakuza members, who were still particularly distracted.

Their movements were not hurried, nor were they rushing. Instead, while Natsu pressed Junichiro about his involvement with the old man shown on the screen, Aoki scanned the room with sharp eyes, looking for anything suspicious.

It was their professional demur and their pursuit for answers that fueled the suspicion Shinichi had. Whatever they were planning would not end with the dead bodyguards stacked in the middle of the room.

Contrary to popular belief, bullets do not simply pass through easily, unlike what was shown in popular action or police dramas. Rather, the force of a round impacting the skull had devastating effects. Not a clean hole, but rather one that blew off half of the victim's head. The ragged flesh of the dead bodyguards was still attached to their skull pieces, stained with the perpetual color of what Shinichi could only describe as rusted iron was visible for all to see.

Traumatizing, even the will of trained officers. Speaking of which. They were still in disguise but clearly separated from each other. Seated at opposite ends of the room, Shinichi counted at least fifteen of them. Kept purposely apart, it would seem that Natsu Ito had planned this meticulously. Having recognized Inspector Nakamori, he had painstakingly extracted his men from the general populace. It wasn't difficult. After all, the undercover policemen lacked the refined swagger or personality traits of high-ranking conglomerates. Now apart, it would be hard for Inspector Nakamori to organize his team.

Not that any of them were making a particular effort to escape their predicament. They, unlike Division 1 of the Metropolitan Police, were not exposed to violent crimes such as this. Their experiences with dead bodies were limited, and like the ordinary folk in the room, were just as horrified.

Still struggling with his ties, Shinichi turned his attention to Natsu, who was now slapping the injured Junichiro across his cheeks. A sordid sight. In pain, the man cried out as Natsu gave another resounding clap. His wife was sobbing softly. Still forced to kneel on the stage with their daughter, who was pale-faced with fright. The jeweled dress the woman wore was torn at the helm, and her once immaculate ponytail was in a mess. It was clear she had been manhandled. The smudges of makeup, and bruises on her lip and cheek, were an indication.

"It is pointless to be stubborn in this," Natsu jokes. His sing-songy attitude and beast-like eyes bear an uncanny resemblance to a silver-haired monster. It was unnerving, and Shinichi had to force down the prickling pins of fear coursing through his veins. Putting aside his thoughts, he studied Natsu as the man slammed his pistol against Junichiro's cheeks.

"After all the clues I've given you. You're still going to deny your involvement?"

It was as Shinichi suspected. The missing cargo, the Takizaki Family, the picture of the old man plastered on the screen…and Kamagasaki in Osaka. Junichiro's role with the black organization. He would not reveal it under such circumstances, not before potential business partners and government officials who thought highly of the Takizakis.

"Y…you," Junichiro huffed with bated breath, a large gash on his face, and a missing ear, "You won't get away with this!"

Still trying to play the big man, Junichiro was testing waters he could not win. A rather foolish move that will cost him more than he asked for.

"My brothers, they would know about this," the man screams, "And when they know what you did to me, I'll assure you that they will hunt you down!"

His protest, a show of defiance, seemed to rile the hostages. And the foolish conglomerates, who hadn't experienced a single hardship or threat to their powerful status, started to revolt. Slight murmurs grew louder around the room until they became full-blown protests and complaints. They had conveniently forgotten the dead bodies of their bodyguards still stacked in the middle of the huge ballroom or the locked exits blocked by a series of tables and chairs.

Cursing under his breath, Shinichi finally loosened one part of his ties. Only to tense when Natsu broke into ugly laughter. One that quells the rising chorus of defiance and then screams as he raises the pistol aiming it at one of the louder hostages. An old woman who Shinichi identifies as the owner of one of the largest automobile corporations in Japan. He pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through, and she fell to the ground, face flat—dead.

Screams were followed by whimpering and then silence as the hostages realized that status did not matter. Death did not discriminate. The stark reality settles within, and the scene of the dead woman turns into resounding silence.

"Again," Natsu glanced back at Junichiro, who was staring at the dead woman with wide-eyed shock, "I ask," motioning to the old man on the screen, "That you remember who he was."

Was…

A subtle clue. Natsu made no attempt to hide the current status of the man. Shinichi concluded he was homeless based on the old man's decrepit physique and state of clothing.

Now…

Why would that have anything to do with the Takizakis?

A strange thought arises as Shinichi pries the last of his ties loose.

The strange brown liquid poured into the ocean. Missing Cargo…and Soap.

Sinister pieces fit into a monstrous puzzle built on lies, conspiracy, and the hideous sin of corrupted wealth.

Rum.

As he reached into his pocket, he pulled out a detective badge. His first concern is for a strawberry blonde.

"Shiho," he whispered furiously, tapping on the badge. "Shiho, where are you? Are you ok?"

He was greeted with static and could only curse.

"Hey!"

Aoki was marching over. Ak-rifle raised and pointed directly at them.

Shit!

The badge stuffed into his pocket, Shinichi took the stance that he was still tied up. Heart racing, he made it in time as Aoki towered over him. Steel green eyes pierced him, and his throat went dry.

"What were you doing!?"

"I…I…" he stuttered like a scared child, unable to force fake tears from his eyes. His act seemed disingenuous, and the man was not buying it.

The Ak rifle was now pointed directly at him. Fingers resting on the trigger, Shinichi sucks in a sharp breath as Aoki begins to pull it.

There was no way out of this situation. For a second, Shinichi considered just revealing his untied status. With his watch missing, it was the only option that could spare him from his impending death. When—

"Please!" Ran sobbed. His childhood friend, with genuine tears, was pleading with Aoki. Azure blue eyes wavering in fear and sorrow. "Please spare my brother! He is only ten years old. It's uncomfortable for him. He's just moving about. I promise. I promise he isn't a threat. If you must…just…just take me."

That idiot!

"Ran!" Sonoko chided, interrupting Shinichi before he could make a move. The brown-haired heiress moved forward. Struggling, she shifted between Ran and Aoki, who was studying them.

"I'm Sonoko Suzuki, heiress of the Suzuki empire," she glares at the Yakuza member. "Taking me would hold more value! My friend and her brother have nothing to do with this!"

She was shaking. Her lips quiver, but she bites down hard. Despite her fear, Suzuki Sonoko, fierce and unwaveringly loyal, was willing to lay her life down for her friend. A gesture that destroyed the discourse of Sonoko's bimbotic personality.

While Aoki pressed the weapon against her, he looked at Sonoko and then at Jirokichi and Ran, who were shouting at her to stand down. A slow, twisted smirk forms on his lips. Lowering the rifle, he snorts.

"Get him to stop moving. There won't be a second chance," he warned before walking away.

It was too close of a call, and Sonoko collapsed, leaning against Ran.

"What were you thinking, Sonoko!" Ran seethes.

"I could say the same for you!" Sonoko protested. The brown-haired heiress and his childhood friend try to hold back their fear. The unshed tears formed watery sheens in their eyes.

"I'll give the both of you a piece of my mind when this is over!" Jirokichi seethed in relief and then anger.

Though it fizzled out, and a sly grin emerged on his lips.

"You've got something up your sleeves, don't you, boy?" he whispered. This time the older man put himself in front of Shinichi.

Shinichi, still recovering from the close call, smirked. Showing his untied hands. Jirokichi holds back his excitement as Inspector Nakamori realizes what was happening.

"These men are armed," he said under his breath, "If anything, lay low, don't try anything until you've managed to untie us."

"Don't worry," Shinichi manages, picking away the ties that bound Jirokichi's wrist. "That was what I was planning to do anyway."

"Try not to get us killed next time," Sonoko quipped, and Shinichi winced.

Then he paused as another scream rang out. Shrill, high-pitched shrieks came from Junichiro's wife, who was still squatting on stage. Natsu was not getting the information he wanted from the tight-lipped Junichiro and was now aiming the gun at Sakura Takizaki… Junichiro's daughter.

"No! No!" Satomi Takizaki was screaming. Junichiro's wife was in hysterics, almost launching herself forward, begging for Natsu to stop.

"Don't do this! She's only a child! She's—"

"Dead if I don't get answers in 10 seconds," Natsu smirked.

Lips turning blue, Junichiro struggled against his ties. Yelling, spitting out expletives unbefitting of a man of his status.

"Ten," Natsu counted.

"No! NO!" Satomi screamed.

"Nine."

"Please, don't do this! Please…" Junichiro was wavering, glancing at his father, Satoru, who remained stone-faced.

"Eight."

"I'll tell you—" Junichiro was about to spill his secrets when Satoru interjected.

"Junichiro!" the old man yelled. Ash-gray eyes, cold like the winters of Alaska, carrying with them not a shred of human emotion. "You are not to reveal anything!"

"Seven."

And Junichiro falls silent, in despair, unable to speak. The screams of desperation from his wife and the cries from his daughter created a never-ending loop of dread that rippled through the hall.

"Six."

"Junichiro! Please! Please tell them!" Satomi screamed.

The man bowed his head, shaking profusely. Looking utterly defeated.

"Five."

"Don't forget," Satoru quipped. The old man glanced disdainfully at his hysterical daughter-in-law and then at his grandchild. "The legacy of the Takizakis cannot be tarnished…Junichiro."

"Four."

"At any cost," Satoru declares.

Sharp gasps echoed around the room. The hostages were unable to comprehend what the man was saying. Satoru Takizaki, the most charitable man in Japan…kind, hospitable…a gentleman in every way…was willing to sacrifice the lives of his family.

"Three."

"Papa!" Sakura burst into desperate cries as the pistol neared her temple. The girl quaking fiercely, held on tighter to the teddy bear.

"Two."

Shinichi is readying to launch himself forward. He was free, and maybe with some help from Jirokichi, he could stop this senseless murder. If anything, he hadn't much choice in the matter and was about to move forward when—

"Human Trafficking!" Junichiro's statement resounded through the room, confirming Shinichi's theories.

"Human trafficking…" Sonoko gasped. Even Jirokichi did a double take.

"Junichiro!" Satoru shouted in betrayal. "How could you be so weak! How could you destroy the very foundations of our family with—"

"Family!" Junichiro screams, "They were about to kill my family, father!"

The quarrels between them are interrupted by Natsu Ito's gleeful clapping.

"Correct!" Bending forward, the Yakuza leader forces Junichiro to look at the screen again. This time, pictures of the Takizaki's employees, looking very much like the bodyguards who have been killed, were seen gathering and forcing people who were homeless into cargo containers. "Now, would you care to elaborate?"

Junichiro slumps on the chair as his wife and daughter look at him in horrified reverence. They were clearly kept from this. Satomi Takizaki screamed at the revelation. "It's a lie! Tell me it's a lie, Junichiro!"

"No," the man whispered, eyes still lingering on the pistol Natsu aimed at his daughter's temple. "The agreement we formed...we stole "cargo" from the streets...vagrants nobody cared about...invisible to society and trafficked them..."

The truth comes to light.

"What!?" Jirokichi boomed, along with the rest of the hostages, who were appalled by the disclosure.

"Shinichi, what is going on?" Ran whispered, wide-eyed in horror, realization sinking in. "Are they…is this…"

Shinichi nodded, and she gasped.

"You ungrateful bastard!" Satoru Takizaki called out. "After everything I have done for you, this is how you choose to repay me! You've doomed us! You've doomed our entire fam—"

Gunshots popped, and Satoru shrieked in pain. A bullet had gone through the old man's right calf, which caused him to squirm. He cursed and cried, spitting at his son and the Yakuza members who had unraveled his empire.

Just like Africa's blood diamonds, it was a business built upon the lives of the vulnerable.

"Correct!" Natsu continued, "Aoki don't you agree?"

"Full fucking marks," The burly man nodded in agreement.

Laughter broke out between them. Shinichi realized they were far from finished, and time was running out.

Again, Natsu displayed the ragged photo of the smiling old man. Junichiro was forced to look at it.

"You must remember," he sneered. Shinichi confirmed with certainty that this was a revenge plot. The old man on the screen was important to Natsu Ito…to Aoki, and Touma. The Takizaki family, in their endeavors, had unintentionally messed with the wrong crowd.

"The man you've killed!"

Things were getting dangerous. Despite the callous nature of the bodies placed in the middle, Natsu Ito seemed to carry a hatred that consumed.

He wouldn't have done this…if he had something to lose. Angering the richest, most influential people in Japan was not the most brilliant move if he did.

Natsu Ito was willing to enact the ultimate act of sacrifice.

Knowing the situation was going downhill, Shinichi began working on Ran ties next.

"We've gotta get out of here," he whispered the plan to the listening ears of his companions.

"What do you mean?" Sonoko asked carefully.

"They're planning to eradicate everyone here, and we're sitting on a sinking ship."

"What!?'

"Keep quiet!" Shinichi seethes, and the heiress bowed her head.

"How would they do that, though, Conan-kun?" Ran asked.

"I haven't worked that out, but most probably—"

A soft burst came from Shinichi's badge, and he immediately stopped what he was doing to answer. Hearing her voice filled him with relief. Shiho was safe, and he couldn't help the smile that graced his lips.

His joy was short-lived; however, as she disclosed, the news sent shivers down his back. Upon hearing her words, Ran, Sonoko, Inspector Nakamori, and Jirokichi went still.

"Edogawa-kun," Shiho announced, "We might have a problem."

Touma Suzuki did not notice them at first. He strolls into the freezer with the trained, eagle-eyed gaze of a professional. With the Ak-Rifle in hand, he adopted the stance of a mercenary. His gait and his walk reminded Shiho of the organization's members. Though she wanted to bolt from the situation, she knew he was not them.

Shinichi showed her photographs of the notorious Yakuza group that had filed a case against Takizaki. An incident that Shiho couldn't wrap his head around. After all, even though the organization had many dealings with crime lords, Kizuna-Kai had no connection to them. To report a crime linked to them was akin to death in the underworld.

Stepping forward, Shiho pressed herself into one of the frozen meats. Her heart pounded like alarm bells in her ears. Keeping calm, she used techniques ingrained in her to remain composed. The Kaitou Kid was doing the same, slinking around the man as he edged forward.

Suddenly, static and a shrunken detective's loud, frantic voice emerges—from a detective badge she'd forgotten about.

"Shiho!" he started, "Shiho, where are you? Are you ok?"

"That idiot," she snapped, leaping out of the way before a hail of bullets rained down. It pierced through the body of the frozen pig. Bullets hit the sides of the freezer as Shiho crashed against the ground, sliding down the sheet of thin ice forming on the surface before hitting the shelves. They rattled, and she cursed as she stared at the barrel of a narrow rifle.

Unrenetling and without mercy, Touma was ready to kill.

"Stop!"

An explosion of smoke erupted from a source. It was a bomb, something Shiho knew came from the resourceful thief. Shiho doubled over from the sharp smell as it filled the room quickly. It wasn't unpleasant, but it burnt the insides of her nostrils. Unlike the nauseating effects of the knockout gas earlier, this smoke was simply meant to mask.

Kaitou Kid grabbed her before she could react. Still disguised as Ran, he tried making for the exit of the freezer when multiple bullets whizzed past them. The pellets lodged into the iron doors ignited sparks that fizzled like sparklers.

"Sheeze!" the thief whistled at the close call.

"Stop right there," Touma ordered the two of them. Coughing slightly from the sudden assault of his senses, he cast them a warning. "Don't you dare make a move!"

Shiho couldn't help but scoff at his threat.

"What do you think, Ojou-chan?" the Kaitou kid smirked, apparently carrying the same thoughts.

"What do you think," she snorted, "Robin Hood?"

"Point taken."

Touma pressed the trigger, and the thief dodged the bullet with ease. Years of escaping law enforcement must have enhanced his speed. He was fast, smashing another rounded capsule on the ground, and smoke erupted again.

"What!?"

Touma shot another round. Bullets whizzed past as Shiho pressed herself into the ground. The round ended with a slight click as the empty magazine fell. It was an opening. The thief emerges, holding a gun-like object.

"You—"

A bundle of roses exploded from the tip of his gun, smashing against the Yakuza member's face.

"For naughty little boys~" Kaitou whistled.

Touma roared, stumbling back as the Kaitou Kid kicked, sweeping the man off his feet. Touma couldn't react in time. The thief came down on him. A blunt object hits Touma square in the head. A loud thump was followed by the yell of a man, and then a blurry figure fell to the ground. As the smoke cleared, Shiho discovered Touma writhing on the floor and the Kaitou Kid holding onto a frozen solid ham bone. He was panting, standing over the Yakuza member like a chef ready to cook a dish.

Ramming it down again, he knocked it against Touma, who deflected it with a roar. As the tables turned, the ball of muscle overpowered the thief. Despite Kaitou Kid's best efforts, he was forced down.

Shiho grabbed the first thing she could grasp. She slams it on Touma's head using strength she didn't possess. An audible thunk reverberated through the room. There was a break in the item she was holding. Touma flinched, turning around to stare at her with wide-eyed surprise.

Too shallow?

She brought it down again and again. Whacking it on the man until she was dragged away. The Kaitou Kid stopped her before she could do more damage.

"Stop! Whoa! He's beginning to look like that fish!"

She stood huffing, dropping the item on the ground. Hands shaking, she realized she had been holding onto a frozen cod. She noticed the thief flinching when she dropped it. Kaitou Kid seemed terrified of the item.

"His unconscious," the thief inspected the man. "Color me impressed," he smirked. "What are you? An Amazoness?"

"If somebody hadn't been so weak," she retorted, "I wouldn't have to resort to violence."

"I say it suits you really well," Kaitou Kid frowned, "You scary, scary kid."

"Says the man who hits the guy with frozen ham," she retorts, and he raises a finger to protest but stops himself.

"Point taken."

With the threat now eradicated and restrained, Shiho turns back to the badge in question. There was still static, but the shrunken detective who had blown their cover was now strangely silent.

"Edogawa-kun," Shiho called, "Edogawa-kun what is going on?"

There was no answer, and she could only frown at the predicament.

"And he chooses not to speak now," Kaitou Kid snorts behind her as they exit the freezer. They emerged from the tunnel into what Shiho suspected was the ship's hull. It was dark here, and the damaged engines created a loud shrieking din that made her ears throb.

"You were conscious, don't tell me you haven't a clue as to what is going on?"

The thief frowned. "Like I said, I was preoccupied. Escaping with a child while trying to run from a madman trying to gun you down ain't exactly child's play."

"I must have overestimated your abilities."

"You flatter me, Ojou-chan, you really do."

As they raced down the section, turning the corridor into another dimly lighted luggage compartment, she drew back. Kaitou Kid realizing the implications of what they discovered, could only whistle at their plight.

Stacks of luggage and cargo containers filled the hull to the ceiling. But that was not the issue. Instead, the series of intricate wires linked to beeping red rectangular packages that lined the walls were more alarming.

"I guess we've found the answer to your question." Kaitou Kid bends down for a closer look at the meticulously placed C4. "They're planning to sink the ship."

Again, she hears Shinichi moving on the other end, and Shiho raises the badge.

Sorry for the late update XD Again, thank you for the reviews, and feedback. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) see you again next week.