Chapter 56
Original Sin
"What is going on, Shinichi!" Ran's voice erupted from his smartphone. "Why are there armored vehicles near Hakase's house? Why are there FBI agents everywhere? Why are the Japanese Special Police at my place, and most importantly, why is Amuro-san acting as my personal bodyguard?"
"They've appeared," Shinichi told her about the incident from the night before.
"What!?" she exclaimed.
"Calm down. It was a false alarm of some sort. A scare tactic. We'll find the member who did it."
"Calm down! How do you expect me to calm down? Imagine my shock when I arrived at the professor's house with the kids only to discover three armored vans parked outside and FBI agents in bulletproof vests, no less!"
As her voice softened into concern, he could only apologize. "Is Ai-chan okay? The professor is fine. I can see that, but—"
"She's fine," he glanced at the auburn-haired scientist seated in front.
"Shiho is fine," he said, and a sigh of relief followed.
"Where are you guys anyway?" Ran asked as Shinichi watched the landscape pass by. Cars zoomed past, followed by the immensity of the open ocean beside the highway. Satou-san's Mazda, usually used for illegal drag races, made short work of their eight-hour journey.
"I can't tell you now, but we might be wiretapped," he told Ran, and he could almost picture the frown on her face.
"You should have told me. I would have come along!" Ran protested.
"Do not worry, Ran-chan," Sera interrupts, snatching the phone from Shinichi.
"Sera-san!"
"At your service. Don't worry. I'm helping the little twerps and in any case…"
"I'm here too," Satou-san and Heiji intoned. Shinichi groaned as Ran began to nag some more.
"Shinichi, I should be there too!"
"I'll call you back later. I need to speak to Akai-san!" He spat out an excuse and then cut the call.
"Oh~ Somebody's in some deep doo-doo," Heiji sang cheekily as Shinichi eyed him with disdain.
While ignoring the Osaka detective, he opened up his text messages to read the report Jodie-sensei had sent him in the morning. Almost unsettling, it was an eerie case.
In the aftermath of the incident at the house, he called Akai, only to be informed of cargo containers—containing dead illegal immigrants. "Remember Junichiro Takizaki," Akai started.
Shinichi did. The cruise ship incident with Kaitou kid a few weeks ago was still fresh in his mind.
"What happened?" Shinichi asked.
"He was hysterical after receiving an anonymous phone call in jail. And in his stupor, he revealed certain details, pointing to a specific location. They had been dead for about nine months," Akai's voice was muffled by the crashing waves and winds. Amid the scene, the FBI agent described what he found.
Ten bodies piled up on top of one another, primarily skeletal remains. Upon cracking open the cargo, the smell was unbearable. There were more. Akai did not elaborate. They, as suspected, had been experimented on. Promised a future in a foreign land but was taken in by the Takizaki family's secret society. Members of an organization were given animal-like codenames that operated very much like the Black Organization. The only thing Shinichi was sure about them was that they were enemies of the Kaitou Kid.
As Shinichi glanced back at the laptop, he examined the fates of those sold to the secret society.
"Do you remember Renya's words just before his death?" Jodie-sensei interjected, "About the drug being in circulation, in the system."
Shinichi shivered at the thought and could only speculate. "We can only guess that after Shiho left the organization, in an attempt to recreate the drug, the organization—"
"Circulated the drug to test it out on…"
"Yes, humans, the homeless and vulnerable, and we found it only…"
"By chance."
"Too much of a coincidence," Akai said firmly, and Shinichi nodded solemnly. Hours after Vodka visited the professor's house, a series of arsons broke out over Japan in Gunma, Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, and Hiroshima. Fires broke out in rural mansions built in the prefecture's forests. In unassuming buildings tucked in the various cities, supposedly registered as places of worship, in warehouses next to docks, which, when inspected after the fires were put out, revealed details of a mysterious sect that Shinichi had only thought to be an urban legend. Fires started at roughly the same time, sending ripples throughout the country. Several media outlets reported it, citing the oddity of the synchronized arson. Shinichi, however, knew better.
"A sudden visit from Vodka, simultaneous fires, Junichiro Takizaki revealing information so readily and suddenly, and the crow placed on our doorstep…"
"It's a ruse, a warning," Akai confirmed.
"Rum is testing us. Playing his own sick game," Shinichi seethes, "Akai-san, we can't tell Shiho about this."
"I wasn't planning to," the FBI agent muttered.
"And how would she react if she knew," Jodie-sensei cautioned. Shinichi grimaced at her statement.
"Fine. I'll tell her later, but for now—"
"We will find Vodka and send reinforcements for protection. All that we have," Akai continued.
"For the professor, the children, and well, just about everybody close to us," Shinichi stated.
"We'll keep you up to date on the developments."
"Thanks, Akai-san, and I need your help on something else."
"Ok, boy, spill it."
They were in their teenage forms. Shinichi sat wearing a disguise arranged by Akai. Dressed in jeans and a hoodie, Shinichi now had blonde hair with a square cut and freckles painted on his cheeks. Shiho also wore a simple red blouse, with her strawberry blonde hair pinned up and hidden underneath a cap. With the help of contact lenses, her once green eyes have now turned chestnut brown.
"They know we are in our child forms. We've got to trick them again," Shinichi said as they transformed into their old forms after taking the temporary antidote.
"Never thought we'd be using our teenage forms as a disguise," Shiho scoffed as they entered Satou-san's car.
"You know, it's kinda weird not to be looking down at you two," Heiji chuckled.
"And I thought you'd be taller," she remarked as he spluttered in protest.
"Now, now, children," Satou-san gave them a warning glance, "Let's try to behave like respectable adults when I'm driving. I would like to get there in one piec—"
She pauses as a car cuts past, shifting obnoxiously into their lane. "That son of a bitch!"
"Oh no," Shinichi muttered.
"What do you mean oh no?" Heiji asked as Sera held on tightly to the handles above. The inspector sped adroitly through traffic. It was surprising how hot-headed the woman could become, and Shinichi winced as they were squashed against the window as Satou-san did another three-pointer turn.
After an hour, they came to a rest stop. Heiji exited the washroom a little pale, having vomited. Sera shook her head at him as he stumbled out. "Motion sickness, are you serious? You're a detective. Get a hold of yourself."
"Anyone would get sick with driving like that!" he snapped, pointing to the inspector, who was now by one of the pop-up food stores by the side of the road.
"Really, it wasn't so bad," Sera remarked, and he raised his hands in exasperation. "Kudou, help me out here!"
Shinichi ignored the detective's antics. His gaze now focused on the scientist leaning against Satou's Mazda. Staring at the cars passing by, strangely quiet. Shiho was distracted, guarded like a carapace, as she held a brown canvas-colored file in her hand. A crinkle formed on its otherwise smooth surface as her fingers tightened around it.
"Shiho," he called to her.
"Am fine, Shinichi," she said before he could ask. He gently tugged the file from her hands. It contained a report Satou-san had given them a few hours earlier. After numerous phone calls to Hiroshima's police precinct, the woman had recovered it. Having investigated the deaths of the Miyano family alone, Rei Furuya had given them a lead.
Shiho had read the document several times during their drive to Hiroshima.
An unsolved case, a fire, and two unidentified bodies were found in a burnt house. The address has been, strangely, omitted. Bourbon provided the details, a trail he had been able to extract through one of his hacks. Having read through it, Shinichi found the photographs of the case a disturbing reminder of what the organization was like.
"Pugilistic stance," Shiho had explained.
"Pugilistic?" Heiji asked, exchanging a concerned glance with Sera-san.
"It's caused by high temperatures contracting muscles," Shiho explained methodically. Shinichi had heard of it before. A phenomenon not generally known to the public. Heat from a fire started by an unknown perpetrator had forced the bodies to curl into fighter-like postures. Hands in fists, knees bent, like they were about to enter a boxing ring. Burned into soot black, flesh melted into charred beams. Most likely, the victims were tied to the wooden structure, which prevented them from escaping. The report did not indicate whether they were still alive when the house burned.
Asphyxiation had been stated as the cause of death. However, due to the severity of the burns, the real cause of death was difficult to determine. Even so, Shinichi couldn't tell which was worse, death by other means or being burned—alive.
"That's why I told you not to read it," he whispered as he held her hand. The feeling in her fingers was as cold as the tundra. She was unable to hide it. Neither the muted rage, smoldering under the surface, nor the overwhelming sorrow.
"I would have found out anyway," she replied as he settled beside her, shoulders touching. "You don't have to hide it from me. I'm not some—"
"Princess?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
"Exactly," Shiho chuckled dryly.
"Still," Shinichi sighed, "There's no need to subject yourself to this. It is one thing to know about it and quite another to see it."
As she snorted at his statement, he faced her. "I'll get to the bottom of this," he reassured her.
"I know you will," she mocked, "After all, you're the legendary corpse magnet, aren't you."
"Aye, aye," he muttered, "What other names do you have for me, you stubborn dungeon-dwelling goblin?"
"Short twerp."
"...Shiho, we're the same height!"
"Big boob lover."
"You need to be more creative," he retorted.
"Balding insufferable piece of—"
"Ok, I get it," Shinichi snapped, and she smirked as he opened his arms. She falls into them as he pulls her close. Shiho buried her face in his chest. Slightly, the tension she held dissipated.
"The note," she said later. Shinichi pulls out the paper he collected from the dead crow the night before. While the paper had dried considerably, it still had many wrinkles and was stained with brown blood. "You recognize this?" he asked, and she studied it again.
"Oth, אות"
"…Hebrew, I'm guessing," Shiho muttered hesitantly, "I'm not very sure, though."
A knowing smirk appeared on his lips.
"Hebrew?" Sera interrupts, looking at the note along with Heiji. The two appeared with snacks they had bought from the makeshift food truck. Shiho graciously accepted a sweet potato packet from Satou, who followed behind.
"The writing could be ancient Greek or Latin, but judging from how it is written," Shiho eyed him with a dissatisfied gaze. "I guess you already know the answer."
"It's Hebrew," Shinichi said, "Am I my brother's keeper."
He recalled the phrase Rei had told them.
"What does it mean exactly?" Heiji asked.
"Genesis. It's a stanza from the bible," Sera revealed hesitantly.
"Yes," Shiho muttered, "The first murder of mankind. Two brothers, one killed the other a killer," she looked at the note and then at Shinichi.
"Oh," she realized it.
"The mark of Cain," Shinichi takes out the phone, typing in the keywords.
"The man who murdered his brother, Abel, out of jealousy, who became—the doomed wanderer."
It was a bustling place, roaring with activity as the subway passed overhead. Yusaku Kudou followed a tall black FBI agent who introduced himself as Williams Jones. He possessed a friendly demeanor and a pair of beautiful bluish-gray eyes. He towered over them and led them through New York City's crowded streets. Numerous billboards blared as the afternoon sun reflected on high-rise glass buildings. They were surrounded by various characters, from youngsters dressed in wacky punk-like fashion to neatly dressed businessmen. There is a mixture of music, sounds, and the smell of fried fast food. The place was a little too noisy and messy for Yusaku's taste, but he knew Yukiko enjoyed it. Clinging to him, his wife hummed happily.
Having the objective located in such a lively place was unexpected. Yusaku couldn't help but think of the famous phrase in such a situation.
"Hiding in plain sight, huh," he muttered as Yukiko chatted with Williams. Despite their differences, the man and the Japanese woman made fast friends. Williams recommended a few cafes and eateries in the area. Clearly delighted by her return to the lustrous metropolis, Yukiko took in the sights and sounds of the vibrant city. Within ten minutes, his wife had learned everything they needed to know about Williams, her extroverted nature always useful at times like these.
An officer who joined the force 10 years ago is a 40-year-old veteran in his field. He was married, had a wife he loved deeply, played baseball in his free time, and was a colleague of Akai Shuichi, the often misunderstood agent.
His mission was to track down the elusive hideouts of black organizations listed on the thumb drive retrieved. Having managed to hunt down most of them, Williams, however, had needed assistance with a few, locked behind intricate riddles that even the best in the field couldn't solve.
It was Akai who introduced Williams to Yusaku, and after weeks of correspondence over emails and phone calls, they narrowed down a destination of interest. Within a mountain of cryptic information lies a pivotal place. It was a location that should reveal significant information for Shinichi.
Detailed details about the Miyano family and of a girl—Miyano Shiho.
Yusaku had yet to correspond with the girl. She was mostly a mystery to him, and his only glimpse of her character was a version of a teasing brat described by his son. Yukiko was also on good terms with the girl and sometimes corresponded via text, sometimes squealing about an adorable girl that had a crush on Shinichi. Since his impression of the girl was mainly one of seriousness, calm, and collectedness, he was most intrigued. Miyano Shiho, Sherry and Ai Haibara, an ex-organization member. The daughter of a mad scientist and hell angel. The girl was the exact opposite of what his wife and son described.
Across the busy streets, yellow taxis honked as vehicles zoomed by. Yusaku dodged some rowdy teenagers bantering playfully. Cracks eventually appeared in the smooth concrete ground. Over time, towering, modern-like buildings evolved into seedy, derelict structures. The lively atmosphere that existed before has disappeared, masked by the oppressive silence. Despite the afternoon sun, this place had a sense of gloom, like being enshrouded in a dense, oppressive fog. Around them, Yusaku could smell the stench of expired alcohol, musky mold, and bitter smoke. A sense of unease envelops the atmosphere as the odor adheres to everything it touches. Nevertheless, it wasn't surprising since they were in the poorer parts.
They were led down a narrow alleyway by Williams. The low drones of rusty air-conditioner units vibrating against old pipes hanging above drowned out the sounds of the city.
Finding this place had been a collaborative one. Yusaku helped Williams decode the cryptic data on the thumb drive. Based on the additional information Shinichi provided, Yusaku could narrow down and pinpoint the location of the obscure research facility. The building hidden within New York's intricate network of alleyways.
It was decaying from within. Walls once pristine white were peeling with paint. The damp alleyway caused wooden pillars to rot. Termites were munching through the structure as ceramic tiles crumbled to the grimy ground. Instead of being a laboratory, it resembled a place of worship, similar to 18th-century churches that used to dot the wild west. Even so, its purpose remained tucked between the crevices of two half-constructed buildings. In fact, it was owned by a mysterious Japanese corporation, which Williams later confirmed was the Takizaki family.
Through the broken doorway, they entered. Yukiko was assisted by Williams. Upon entering the church, they were greeted by a sea of neglected pews. Spider webs were hanging from the orifices of spilled stuffing. There was a stage raised in front, with a sunken middle. A morbid sight hung over the podium. An imposing statue depicting a sharp-fanged woman stood over it. The woman's face looks nothing like a human's but rather like a tiger's. With a prominent elephant-like nose and long donkey-like ears, a giant tree was in her grasp, while butterflies were printed on the long shawl she wore.
"What in the world is that?" Williams muttered. The grotesque figure, at least 5 meters tall, emerging from the darkness of the supposed church-like facility, is enough to rattle the nerves of even the toughest FBI agents.
They approached the stage, carefully threading the rotted floors. Williams found carvings behind the statue called Yusaku over, and he studied them carefully. In a continuous loop, a wide-mouthed snake chases after an apple. It was clearly a reference to man's original sin.
"Adam and Eve," he muttered, highly disturbed, his lips twitching nervously.
It would seem…
"You were right, Shinichi."
"Hey!" Yukiko exclaimed. She points to the stairs she just found. It was hidden behind a few torn stage curtains obscuring the backstage. Yusaku gazed down at the despondent stairs leading to the basement. It gave off an aura like it was leading to the ninth layer of hell.
They descended. The basement gives out a distinct musky scent of—
"Yusaku," Yukiko pressed a hand to her nose, covering it as the sharp stench lingered. Williams handed them a mask that he pulled from his rucksack. Yusaku was grateful for the protection, his eyes watering. A sense of relief settled over him as he donned the gas mask.
"Formalin," William speculated.
They reached the stairs' end and were met with a vault door. Like those used in the banks, it was heavy, rusted—but fortunately unlocked. Yusaku glanced at Williams, who nodded. He leaned all his weight on the doors as he forced them open.
As dust rose from the abandoned room, rusty hinges gave way, emitting a long groan.
Broken test tubes and Bunsen burners greeted them. A couple of hospital beds were by the side, with yellowed mattresses that were sunken from age and decay. Cabinets and drawers were opened haphazardly, with files and documents spilling out, some on the ground. The floors were covered with broken glass and the chemical Formalin. A chemical used to preserve. No doubt, whoever used to live there had left in a hurry.
This was the place.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Yukiko pranced around the room, touching the scene without gloves. Following her, William tried to keep the woman in check as she tapped a cracked screen of an inoperable computer. Yusaku surveyed the scene silently. Once, white walls were covered in the unmistakable gray soot of dust. A previous attempt had been made to decorate it, but the faded green wallpaper adorned with white flowers was peeling off. There were also potted plants on top of some of the cabinets.
On one study table, missing a leg, there was a severely dehydrated cactus. Wearing the rubber gloves William provided, Yusaku gently brushes away the dust by rubbing a finger over the smooth surface. There were documents, brown with age. Insignificant leaflets pertaining to fire safety and a pamphlet on the sale of children's books.
The cracked photo frame by the side caught Yusaku's attention, and he grimaced. When he picked it up, he saw a blonde-haired woman standing beside a slightly plump Japanese man. The woman was holding a baby wrapped in a pink bundle, while the man was grasping the shoulder of an eight-year-old girl making a peace sign. It was a photo taken in front of a yellow terrace house in Japan.
"Elena and Atsushi Miyano," Yukiko appeared behind. Her eyes softened as she traced a finger along the photo, stopping at the baby held in Elena's arms.
"The reports made it seem like they were carted from one lab to the next," William elaborated, remembering the information extracted from the thumb drive. "Though, from what we've found, this would likely be…their main base. Where they experimented on—"
"APTX 4869, the incomplete drug," Yusaku completes his sentence, placing the photo down.
"I'll have forensics thoroughly search this place," Williams muttered, surveying the shelves of documents and stacks of notes, "For now, I'm sure Akai-san won't mind us looking through these notes, won't he?"
"I'm sure," Yusaku retrieved a document from the crumbling shelves. Reports and photographs were taken of subjects tested with the drug alongside a faint scrawl written by a man with a cold heart.
Day 103—Hour 1200:
Subject 23. Age 23. Female. Failed. Subject has lost her appetite and has deteriorated substantially since our last meeting. Although the subject can still function physically, she cannot recall names. To reach a satisfactory result, additional tests will be required.
Day 205—Hour 1500:
Subject 105. Age 55. Male. Failed. The subject complains of chest pains. When prodded, the subject said it felt like it had been burned alive. Subject has since expired four hours ago. An autopsy is necessary.
Day 340—Hour 2200:
Subject 340. Age 15. Male. Failed. Subject, a cancer patient, experienced rapid brain growth following the administration of test drug 203. Although depleted, cancer has reemerged. Subject expired 2 hours ago. An autopsy revealed somatic cell growth, possibly the result of a gene mutation. More tests have to be done for a conclusive answer.
Yusaku read it grimly and shut it. The picture painted was not rosy. A contradiction from the smiling man he had just seen. "That confirms it," Williams said.
"They were experimenting on human beings. People procured by the organization, bought over by the Takizaki family, who were involved in human trafficking," The FBI agent elaborated menacingly.
"A peculiar circumstance," Yukiko states.
While he pondered the new information, his wife once again flirted around the room, inspecting the debris.
"About the last experiment they did 17 years ago," he asked. William shook his head. "The physical copy of the report has been destroyed, and the data on the thumb drive has been redacted."
"Hmm…"
There was something more to it, something they were missing. Elena and Atsushi's research was important, but why were they killed? They were the only ones capable of creating the drug. Why wait for Sherry to mature and finish something her parents were close to completing? Then there was the question of Sharon Vineyard, Yukiko's long-lost friend.
"An orphan, adopted, her past shrouded in uncertainty. I'm not sure who she is anymore," Shinichi revealed.
Yusaku glanced at Yukiko as he remembered the story his wife had told him about her long-gone friend. "Sharon had been the subject of rumors," she had confessed. "About her sponsors. Parents who own a religious organization which she would never discuss."
"Religious Organization?" Yusaku had asked.
"Yes," Yukiko thought, hesitating momentarily. Yusaku knows Yukiko still struggles with her friend's betrayal. He was still unable to grasp the complex relationship between the two women. "Sharon wouldn't admit to it. However, according to the rumors, it was, yes…like a cult."
Yusaku paused, recalling the strange statue and carvings they had seen as soon as they entered the derelict research facility.
Something was missing. Their answers were hanging on the cusp.
"Why wasn't the laboratory destroyed?" Yusaku muttered. "Surely all evidence of Elena and Atsushi's existence would have been erased after their deaths."
"We have theories," Williams replied. "Firstly, the research material was required for Sherry, and secondly..."
"Rum," Yusaku continued.
William nodded at the implication. "We know that this facility isn't owned by the Karasuma group but by the Takizaki family," the FBI agent continued, "We can only assume that Rum acted alone without Soma Karasuma's permission."
"Which would mean," Yusaku frowned at the theories forming in his mind. No, he couldn't confirm it yet. Not without substantial evidence. But assuming it was true...Yusaku shivered.
"We need more evidence," Williams suggested, and Yusaku agreed. And they continued with the search.
More documents. Reports on experimental subjects. Leaflets, pamphlets. Yusaku became increasingly frustrated. For a place so carefully hidden, it held information they already knew. It became apparent that their search here was pointless.
"Ah!" Yukiko exclaimed suddenly. Yusaku finds his wife pointing at a grotesque angel fish kept in formaldehyde. Taking the sample from the shelf, she smashes it on the ground.
"Hey!" Williams exclaimed in shock, rushing over to the woman.
"Yukiko," Yusaku chided as his wife eyed him with a cheeky glint. "Why did you do that?"
"The shelves were too flimsy!" she protested as Yusaku sighed.
"Besides," she said as she reached into the angelfish. Her fingers ripped apart the sewn seams along the fish guts before she pulled out a black notebook. It was sealed in a zip-lock bag to protect it from the preservation chemicals. Yusaku paused, and William gasped.
"Wait…isn't that…"
"It was stuffed inside the specimen, hard to see if you ask me," Yukiko smirked, her bright eyes sparkling mischievously. Yusaku moved forward as she handed him the book. Despite her silly demur, his wife was actually quite perceptive. Once again, he was reminded of the woman he fell in love with. He could kiss her.
"You genius," he whispered affectionately.
"The very best~" she hums as Yusaku carefully retrieves the notebook. It reeked of decay, and its pages were yellowed and crumbling. When Yusaku finally pried the book open and turned it over, he found the unmistakable writing of a mad scientist.
"What is it? "William asked, his blue-gray eyes brimming with anticipation. The words greeting them revealed a life of horror...a life torn apart. Yusaku glances at Yukiko, who is looking at it with unusual seriousness.
"I will inform Akai-san," William flips out his phone as Yusaku continues.
It was a diary—a memory, figments of a man named Miyano Atsushi.
XX/01/199X
We've been working on the prototype for a year, and progress has been good. Elena says there will be more failures than progress. She told me Rome wasn't built in a day, and I am inclined to believe her. They visited us again today, the mysterious organization that hired us. Once again—wearing black suits. We do not understand their motives or their interest in our product. Nevertheless, he insisted we finish the project. He did not give us his name. The only thing I know is that Elena does not like him. In her words, he was a shark dressed as a sheep. It is an odd metaphor to use on a balding old man, but I agree. Something about him is different. I suspect the unease comes from the fake plastic eye, a prosthetic. Regardless though the circumstances, he is our benefactor. I cannot complain.
XX/05/199X
The prototype is progressing well. A miracle was what Elena called it. Having tested it on a rat, it has begun to show signs of recovery. Elena told me we might actually have made a "silver bullet," something that would shake the foundations of the world. Her excitement was contagious, and I am also overjoyed. Perhaps our sacrifice was not in vain.
Akemi called us today, telling us about her school and her friends. It brought Elena to tears. She misses them deeply. We barely got to spend time with our baby girl, Shiho, but it was a compromise we needed to make. Providing them with a brighter future is worth it. As much as I miss them both, I am determined to see this through.
XX/10/199X
Despite our reservations, they insisted on testing the prototype. Elena was reluctant, a mistake she had said. As it stands, it is poison. It worked on the rats, but they all died after a few hours. An experiment of this nature can only have disastrous consequences. Although I have filed a complaint, it seems that it, too, will be rejected. Elena felt it was too early and that the drug would cause more harm than good. She is working furiously now. It has to be a success. If it were to be used on innocent lives, it had to be effective.
XX/11/199X
I am at a loss for words. My hands are stained. It is an experiment I cannot comprehend. Elena, I can't apologize enough. I hope she forgives me. Even now, she cries, and we cannot escape. We have nowhere to turn. I am desperate, but the experiments have to continue. The creation we have made...had not worked. We must leave, but our daughters...I don't know what to do. While I have tried to comfort Elena, we are powerless against the entity threatening us behind the scenes. To be honest, I'm scared...for my daughters. Their safety and well-being were promised to us. Having said that, I am beginning to realize this might not be true. Every day, I regret my decision. We had to leave them behind. My only wish is that we will be able to see them again.
The words were heavy. Atsushi Miyano's life was nothing short of a nightmare. The organization threatened them, and their daughters were held as hostages. Though he thought he was giving them a better life, he had instead led them to the belly of a snake. There was a palpable sense of grief and guilt in the following pages, two years' worth of sorrow and sin. As he confessed to the experiments, to the horrors they suffered, behind it all was an eerie, sinister entity known only as—
XX/01/199X
Mary was correct. There was something sinister about the business. Despite her warning, I have chosen to remain blind. Elena is determined to leave, but with the entity looming in the shadows, I cannot fathom what he would do if we were to escape. With cautious optimism, I hope my correspondence will contact me soon. In any case, the one-eyed devil is planning something. I shudder to think of the consequences.
XX/11/199X
It must be a mistake. This is madness. To use our creation in such a way. Elena is right. We must leave. Frankenstein, there is no other word to describe what we have created. He has gone too far, off the rails. The drug has worked. But at what cost? It was too late to save them, and we were powerless to prevent it. Elena cannot forgive herself, and I am afraid for her mental health. We never intended to make this. It was never what we wanted. We were not working for a cause but instead used. Our correspondence has contacted us, so we will escape. We'll reunite with our daughters and hide. Elena insists we destroy our prototype. It is a shame that our hard work will be lost, but I agree. I only hope that the diary I leave behind would find its way into the right hands. He needs to be stopped. The madness of one man cannot justify the deaths caused. There would be no cure.
Especially not for a corpse—within a man.
"What does that mean, Yusaku?" Yukiko asked breathlessly.
"A corpse?" Williams muttered, and Yusaku examined the diary again. It was the last entry, written hastily and haphazardly. The one-eyed man was chasing Atsushi, and he didn't have time. Even though their last drug test was a success, they decided to destroy it rather than hand it over. Regardless of what it was, it must have been monstrous.
Elena had referred to it as a "silver bullet." A folktale used to describe a miraculous solution to a complex problem. It was meant to change or shake the very foundations of the world. Instead, the drug they were tricked into making was the opposite. A curse. Atsushi had described it as Frankenstein. A horrifying picture emerges, and Yusaku looks at the last page, eyes widening at the name he recognizes. He turns to William, the agent contemplating—immediately understanding the significance.
"Amanda Hughes," he reads.
"The unsolved hotel murder from 17 years ago," Williams continued. "A wealthy investor with connections to the FBI."
"Miyano Atsushi's correspondence."
Something was disturbing about the dome-shaped structure. It stood out from the rest, a building that seemed to be set in time. As they watched the sunset across the river, the skeletal remains of the dome-shaped structure glowed golden. Within the sea of red and auburn autumn leaves, the stunning beauty of the scene contrasted with the horrors it kept. The building was a memorial to those who perished in a nuclear explosion sixty years ago.
"So this is the famous Genbaku dome," Sera remarked. Having lived in America most of her life, it was the first time she had seen it. The girl stood in awe, marveling at a piece of human history that, for some miraculous reason, withstood the blast's impact.
Shiho observes silently. There seems to be a fragile peace surrounding the skeletal building. Fires had raged throughout the land in the past. From above, radiation rained down. It was an impossible heat, several million degrees, evaporating everything around it. Shadows imprinted on concrete sidewalks, reminders of people who once existed. The bomb creates a desolate landscape of broken wooden walls, ceramic roofs, dust, and burnt flesh beneath crushed buildings.
She closed her eyes, recalling the photographs in a file she read in Satou-san's car. As the fire raged through a place where her parents were confined, their bodies shriveled. Watching them burn, a one-eyed man watched the heat tear through the building. The impending images threaten to overwhelm her again, but a touch on her shoulder stops them. It was Satou-san. Pointing to the others ahead, the woman gave her a questioning look.
"Ai-chan," she said, "They've been calling you."
"Oh," was all she could manage as Satou-san squeezed her shoulder firmly.
"Do you need a break?" she asked gently. Shiho shook her head.
"I'm just tired," she smiled weakly, "From the drive."
"Hmm…" the woman was skeptical but not pushing it. "If you say so."
They followed the teenage detectives who were talking in front of them. Snippets of names, an organization, of her parents' case being discussed, and within it all—Rum, the abominable man who had killed her parents.
"How many do you think perished here?" Shiho asked as they approached the memorial park's center. The names of those who lost their lives were forgotten amidst the wreckage of a world that watched them die. As an experiment, the atomic bomb was deemed necessary for progress— a fitting consequence for a nation that started the war. America had won, and Japan had lost. It was good versus evil. The supposed victor devised a narrative to justify the taking of lives and the perpetration of crimes against innocent citizens. The bomb was a supposed vanquishment of sin— of monsters.
"Many," Satou-san replied, "died in agony."
Satou-san looked at a concrete cenotaph with the names of those who had perished. The trees grown on soil, bodies buried deep in ash— a reminder of what was.
Just like her parents.
She wanted justice, but did they deserve it?
There was none to give.
"What was the point, then?" Shiho unwittingly whispered, catching Satou-san off guard. The inspector falls silent before squatting over a plaque planted in a brick ground.
Again, the question arises, despite Shinichi's reassurance. Despair emerges from the depths.
"Let all souls here rest in peace, For we shall not repeat the evil," Satou interrupts, reading from the plaque. The woman turned to face Shiho. "Yes. There wasn't a point. They died needlessly," she testified, "But, Ai-chan...it was not in vain."
With an introspective smile, the inspector offered a different perspective. "It might seem they lived a hopeless life, but they are a testament to the world. In order not to repeat the same mistake, their existence served as a symbol of hope and peace," she ended, "At the very least, no matter how short, they were here."
The inspector's words struck a chord. They reached deep, and she could only smile wryly at the inspector, who did the same. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself, looking at the detectives.
The matter at hand was an investigation. Her parents were killed in a place Shinichi had suspected was Rum's birthplace. Born from fire, Rei's words are a menacing story of madness stemming from the very war fought and lost on the grounds on which she stood.
A war that, despite its futility, brought about an era of peace—hope. Her gaze turned to the epitaph, then to Satou-san.
They existed. Her parents—lived for a reason. Contrary to what Shiho had been taught and raised to believe, the notion mentioned by the inspector sounds incredibly naive, but she could…no—she had to believe it.
"There can only be one truth, huh," she whispered before following Satou-san to join the detectives waiting for her. Although it hurts, she won't run. Shinichi greets her, slipping his hands into hers. The warmth from his touch is a comforting reminder of what could be.
The lives lost from the drug will not be in vain. This evil will not be repeated. Shiho will make sure of it.
Episodes used:
Episode 916
Reference used:
Peace Declaration 1987
Genesis Verse 4
We have reached the main crux of the story. It's going to get darker...more than usual, and I apologize in advance. Again, I thank you all for the feedback and reviews. I hoped you enjoy the following chapters. I'm kinda nervous about it. XD. As much as I like to read detective novels, I must admit coming up with coherent mysteries and cases is really difficult. I have great respect for Gosho Aoyama now for practically doing this his whole life.