Chapter 175 Thirty-one Vigilantes

"So why did he refuse?"

The little boy lying on the sofa murmured, and then he leaned back, his head hanging from the armrest of the sofa, and his vision suddenly spun around. In this position, Conan looked at Dr. Agasa who was still playing drums on the laboratory table behind him, with a puzzled tone.

"Now in Tokyo, I am his best choice, right?" The former great detective ruffled his hair. "Really, what on earth is Wuming thinking?"

Although he admitted that he was a bit impulsive that day, as long as the result is right, isn't it okay?

Dr. Agasa put down the tools in his hands, turned around and helplessly complained to the child he watched grow up: "Shinichi, have you ever thought that it's because you two are not familiar with each other? You only met once before that day, Wuming looks like a very cautious person, how could he agree to you so easily?"

"But I also know the chairman." Conan sat up straight and sternly retorted, "Doctor, you also said that he is a very cautious type. Since he has tacitly agreed that I can find out his true identity, doesn't it mean that he thinks I can be trusted?"

That's true...

Dr. Ali twirled his beard and thought: "Is it possible that he is not rejecting you, but rejecting all 'companions'? You see, didn't we discuss before that there is an assistant behind Wuming who helps him monitor the crime situation in Tokyo every night, so Wuming arrives in time every time."

"And, if it's Chairman Akae as you said, Wuming, then this assistant does exist. Is it that Amuro Toru?" He sighed, "Didn't you say that Amuro's skills should be pretty good? Even Amuro, who can protect himself, didn't have the advantage of being close to the water and the moon to be allowed to patrol with Wuming. It's even more impossible for you to get permission with your current body, Shinichi."

Conan knew everything the doctor said, and because of knowing it, Conan became even more depressed.

"What can I do? I don't want to become a child."

He rolled around on the sofa frantically, not showing any of the airs of a high school detective. "But it's very strange! As far as I know, Wuming is obviously not that kind of person. He didn't mind taking me with him when he faced the criminals, and he even gave me the opportunity to play. Why doesn't he agree now?"

"I've been looking for the reason for three days, but I still have no clue..." Conan gritted his teeth, very dissatisfied, "Every time I ask, he says-" "I don't need a partner."

Conan's voice and his cell phone rang at the same time.

Dr. Agasa's mouth twitched: "Shinichi, why did you set this as your ringtone?"

"To remind me to think of a solution to this problem." Conan said viciously, and then answered the phone, "Hello?"

The chairman's voice rang out from the other side: "Are you going to have dinner at the doctor's house today or will you come back?"

"I'll be right back!" Conan jumped down from the sofa swiftly, gestured goodbye to the doctor, then turned around and ran out in a flash, leaving the doctor in amazement.

After returning from the shopping mall that day, no one knew what Edogawa Conan and Akae Nazuki experienced or talked about. All we knew was that the next day Conan moved out of the Mori Detective Agency and lived in the Akae Manor far in the suburbs.

The explanation given to the outside world is that Chairman Akae and Mr. and Mrs. Edogawa are good friends, so they asked him to look after the child. As for the inside, this explanation certainly cannot deceive Dr. Agasa, after all, the doctor knows that there is no "Mr. and Mrs. Edogawa whose child is named Conan" in the world. There is only Mr. and Mrs. Kudo who are currently hiding abroad from the "hunt" of the editorial department.

As an old neighbor of the Kudo family, Dr. Agasa naturally knows Kudo Shinichi's character very well. He knows that if Shinichi really has a strong opinion of rejecting Wuming as he said, he would never agree to move in, and it is even more impossible for him to come to the doctor, the only person who knows the identities of both parties, to complain every day.

The complaints and anger like now are just a waste of time. I guess it can only be regarded as a little game between those two people, right?

The old man with gray hair and beard shook his head and turned around to continue working on the things on his laboratory bench.

On the other side, Conan just ran out of the door of Agasa's house, and heard the professor inside shouting in shock: "The skateboard I just modified——?!"

Sorry, Doc, you've modified it so carefully, the performance of this skateboard must be much better than before, right? The culprit, the little detective, stood on the skateboard and pressed the button with great interest.

Anyway, it's for him to use, so let him try it first.

A second later, the skateboard shot out at the speed of a rocket. Conan, his face slightly painful from the wind, stood on the speeding skateboard with an expression of doubt about life.

Doctor, what have you modified?

In order to stabilize the skateboard, Conan fumbled for a long time. By the time he stopped the skateboard with his head leaning against the wall with a weak look on his face, his head was almost shaking.

Conan, who had never gotten motion sickness while flying in Hawaii, experienced the pain of motion sickness for the first time.

He held back the urge to vomit, and decided that he would never want to use this turbo engine skateboard that the doctor had modified again in his lifetime.

Originally this could only be considered a small episode. When Conan was preparing to quietly carry his skateboard to the street to catch the bus, he took a casual glance and his eyes froze on the rooftop of the residential building opposite.

He could vaguely see a red-haired young man standing facing inwards. After Conan quickly zoomed in with a lens, he found that the man was holding a black gun and pointing the muzzle at himself, as if he was going to drink the bullet and commit suicide.

Conan immediately leaned the skateboard that would slow him down against the wall, and rushed into the residential building in front of him at a rapid speed. The elevator happened to stop on the first floor, so he went in and anxiously pressed the top button.

Damn it, faster, faster...!

When he wanted to take out his cell phone to make a call, he remembered that there was no signal in the elevator, so he had to give up for the time being. After the elevator door opened, he quickly slipped out, put his hands behind his back, and sent the edited message to Yi Dahang.

"Wait!" the young detective shouted, "Don't--"

At the same time, his brain was thinking calmly.

Almost five minutes had passed from the time he saw it to the time he took the elevator to the top floor, but he didn't hear any gunshots. This meant that the other party was still hesitating for some unknown reason and would not make up his mind to shoot so easily. There was still room for talking and persuading him.

At this moment, he was actually thankful that he was a child now. No matter how desperate a person is, most people would relax a little when facing a child, and would not immediately put the other person on the list of people with whom they refuse to communicate.

As long as they can communicate, that's enough. Conan touched the anesthesia watch on his wrist inconspicuously.

After all, he didn't intend to persuade the other party with words alone, but wanted to take advantage of the other party's unpreparedness and anesthetize him with his watch first!

"Uh, okay?" However, the scene was completely different from what Conan had imagined.

The young man who seemed to be committing suicide was still standing there, holding a gun in his hand, but he was not in the posture of drinking bullets. Instead, he looked like... observing the structure inside the muzzle of the gun?

Facing his anxious shout, the other party was full of surprise, obviously not expecting someone to stop him: "Little brother, do we know each other...?"

Conan began to be unsure whether the gun in the other person's hand was real or fake. Would someone who really wanted to commit suicide in this way be able to talk to him calmly and normally?

In order to reassure the other party, he cleared his throat and took two steps forward like a real child. After confirming that the other party did not show any resistance, he asked in an innocent voice: "Big brother, is that a gun in your hand? What are you doing?"

The person opposite me looked around, and his expression turned guilty for a moment.

Conan's heart skipped a beat: Is he really going to commit suicide?

The red-haired young man looked at the gun, then looked at him, and finally sighed under Conan's nervous gaze.

"Well, it's actually a kid who came." He rubbed his hair helplessly, leaned against the wall and slowly slid down, finally sitting on the ground, "Forget it..."

Then, as if answering Conan's previous question, he looked up and said, "Hmm... this is just a model gun? Big brother is a model enthusiast and was just observing."

If it weren't for the mumbling that he thought was so quiet that Conan couldn't hear, Conan might have trusted this reason a little, but now after he breathed a sigh of relief, he felt a cold sweat breaking out.

The other party almost died.

The young man over there had no idea what the kid was thinking. He waved his hand and beckoned Conan over: "Boy over there, do you want to chat?"

...How strange! She just wanted to commit suicide, but now she wants to chat with the little boy she just met? Conan only complained in his heart, because he knew that in this situation, the other party might indeed have a strong desire to confide in him out of fear.

Since the gun was still in the man's hand, he was afraid that the other party would commit suicide again if he left, so he continued to play the role of a child and obediently walked over and sat down next to the young man.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about, big brother?" Conan asked seriously.

"Hmm..." The young man looked at Conan thoughtfully, and suddenly started talking about his feelings, "Come to think of it, I also know a kid who looks a lot like you."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself." He smiled, "My name is Chaoyue, you can just call me by my name, that's what the kid calls me too."

"Is 'that child' a relative of Brother Chaoyue?"

"Of course not, we are not related by blood." Chao Yue said nostalgically, "I first met him ten years ago. At that time, I had just inherited a flower shop and wanted to be a flower shop owner who could see customers smile happily every day after buying flowers."

Conan's expression became a little subtle: Ten years ago? But Chaoyue looked only in her twenties or thirties, and she actually inherited the family flower shop so early.

"So, 'that kid' is a customer in the store?" On the surface, the young detective took the question very seriously. He planned to delay as much time as possible and wait for someone from the Metropolitan Police Department to come.

“Not really.”

Chao Yue tilted her head and said, "I picked him up on an early summer night."

...picked it?

Could that child be referring to stray cats?