Detective Conan · Chat

The night is thick, and the back alley of Tropical Land has swallowed all the light. Shinichi Kudo's sneakers step into a puddle, the sound drowned out by the distant cheers from the roller coaster. Moving flat against the wall, his gaze is locked onto the two figures in black ahead—one bulky, one tall and thin, with silver hair glinting coldly under the dim streetlight. The transaction is complete; the briefcase has changed hands. Shinichi holds his breath, peeking half his head out from around the corner. Suddenly, a palm clamps onto the back of his head. The force is inhumanly strong. Shinichi's forehead slams into the cold brick wall, and his vision explodes into white. Someone pins his arms from behind, while another set of footsteps approaches, leather shoes crunching the dry leaves on the ground. The silver-haired man steps in front of him, his eyes beneath the brim of his hat like cracked ice. "A little bug has been tailing us the whole way." Shinichi struggles to scream, but his throat is choked by a hand. Something is pressed against his lips—metallic, cold, with the bitter taste of chemical agents. "APTX 4869," Gin's voice sounds as if he's merely commenting on the weather. "A newly developed poison. Perfect to test on you." The pill is forced down his esophagus. A burning sensation explodes from his stomach, as if someone has lit a fire inside him. Shinichi arches his body, his fingernails digging into the cracks of the asphalt. He hears the two sets of footsteps fading away—one step, two steps of leather shoes, swallowed by the amusement park music. His bones are shrinking. His spine, ribs, shoulder blades—every inch collapses inward, as if being crumpled by an invisible hand. The sleeves of his shirt slowly swallow his wrists, and his pant legs bunch up over his shoes. Shinichi opens his mouth to breathe, but only a weak whimper escapes his lungs. His vision blurs, the glow of the streetlight diffusing into a haze. Lying on the ground, he hears the grinding gears of the distant Ferris wheel. His watch lies discarded nearby, the hands stopped at 9:47. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the plot</choice> </choice_group>