Chapter 60: The Sky Over Osaka Has Turned Black

Hashimoto gritted his teeth and said, "Even if it means losing a substantial amount of money, I will agree to Shoichi's demands."

Money lost could be earned back, but a lost life was truly gone for good.

The others also looked conflicted and hesitant.

"Ahem, The Justice Daily sells so well in Tokyo; it's entirely possible to open up the market in Osaka as well. As long as we sell enough copies, there is still plenty of room for profit," Takahashi remarked.

Scolding the financial conglomerates was something many people thoroughly enjoyed.

Just the fact that it dared to brazenly berate Shoichi guaranteed strong sales.

At the very least, people like them loved reading it.

"Heh, haven't you heard about what happened at Shoichi's Feast at Hongmen?" Hashimoto said darkly.

That incident had also been chronicled in The Justice Daily.

However, the account in The Justice Daily was somewhat obscure, claiming that the person had been scared to death by Shoichi's films.

As expected, that newspaper had already glossed over and whitewashed much of what Shoichi had done.

"I hope I haven't kept you all waiting too long." Shoichi walked in from outside.

There was a smile etched across his features, yet Hashimoto felt as though a hidden blade lurked right against his chest.

"Mr. Shoichi, your newspaper enjoys a tremendous reputation in Tokyo. Being able to stock your publication is our honor," Hashimoto said, taking the initiative.

"That's wonderful," Shoichi replied.

"Indeed, indeed."

The others chimed in, nodding along.

Seeing that everyone had chosen to cooperate out of consideration for his sincerity, Shoichi felt deeply gratified.

He believed that with his presence, Osaka's business circle would only continue to improve.

Shoichi stated, "As for your large specialty stores, put out at least one hundred copies each. The smaller shops must take at least fifty."

"No problem." Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

This was a normal quantity.

Shoichi then deleted the phone numbers from his device.

People in Osaka were certainly more sensible and knew how to read the room than those in Tokyo; there was no need to invite Conan over to share tea with these gentlemen.

It was somewhat a pity.

After all, the food at this restaurant was genuinely good, and he had even wanted to recommend it to Ran.

Shoichi extended his hand toward Hashimoto.

"I look forward to our future cooperation."

"We very much look forward to cooperating with you."

......

Following the partnership reached between Shoichi and these specialty stores, The Justice Daily officially made its debut in Osaka.

On his way to school with his backpack, the dark-skinned youth of Osaka was suddenly grabbed by someone.

"Classmate, would you like to buy a newspaper?" a man asked, acting suspicious and furtive.

Heiji frowned. Did selling newspapers really require such clandestine behavior? Could he possibly be peddling contraband?

Noticing Heiji's face, the man who had grabbed him instantly changed his expression and turned to leave.

"I'm not selling anymore!" the man declared.

"Wait!"

Heiji found it all the more bizarre.

As a detective exceptionally attentive to such strange occurrences, he gave chase and demanded, "What kind of newspaper are you selling?"

Unable to shake free while Heiji held onto him, the man had no choice but to say with resignation, "The Justice Daily."

"The Justice Daily? Then why are you acting all sneaky? Aren't you selling contraband?" Heiji asked suspiciously.

He kept a firm grip on the man's hand, ready to haul him off to the police headquarters at a moment's notice.

The man let out a cold snort and said, "Because Sumitomo Shoichi bought out the news agency where I work, and to demonstrate his magnanimity, he didn't explicitly forbid us from selling The Justice Daily here.

"However, he relegated The Justice Daily to the absolute darkest corner so customers wouldn't see it. Even if a customer proactively asks to buy this newspaper, we're instructed to say we're out of stock.

"Yet, I am a man who still harbors a sense of justice in my heart; I cannot bear to watch a righteous newspaper be buried by the financial conglomerates."

The man stood tall, radiating righteousness.

Heiji was momentarily stunned.

The heavy hand of the conglomerate was finally reaching out to restrict this newspaper that spoke for the common people and exposed the darkness.

"Then give me a copy," Heiji said.

Before long, the man handed him the paper.

And right then, Heiji finally understood why that man had bolted the moment he saw his face.

Because the headlines in The Justice Daily boldly proclaimed:
*《Son of Osaka's Superintendent of Police Becomes Shoichi's New Lapdog》*
*《Darkness Descends Upon Osaka: Osaka Prefectural Police Even Darker Than Tokyo's, Superintendent's Son Personally Runs Interference for Shoichi》*
*《Utterly Shameless! When Kogoro Mouri 'Solved Crimes' for Shoichi, Everyone Else Had Their Eyes Closed!》*
*《Osaka Ushers in the Hour of Darkness》*

Although the targets of condemnation included himself, Heiji still found himself moved by the contents of the newspaper.

The journalist who wrote this piece, reporter Koike, wielded a remarkably sharp and seasoned pen.

Between every line, one could feel his burning fury and deep dissatisfaction with the Japanese police force.

"I really am not Shoichi's lapdog," Heiji protested innocently.

His innocent expression was an exact replica of Shoichi's when the latter feigned innocence.

Heiji sighed as he gripped the newspaper.

He desperately wanted to explain, but at the banquet, he had indeed pronounced Takahashi's death a suicide.

"These reporters completely miss the truth," Heiji complained with lingering grievance.

Yet, out of admiration for the newspaper's backbone, even though he had been wronged, Heiji did not harbor direct resentment toward the publication.

On his way to school, Heiji noticed a news specialty store surrounded by a bustling crowd.

"Give me a copy of The Justice Daily."

"Apologies, we're completely sold out."

"Nonsense! You must be maliciously suppressing it—you're all Shoichi's lapdogs!"

"We really are sold out," the clerk whispered nervously.

Who could have guessed this newspaper would sell so well?

To please Shoichi, their boss had actually placed the paper in the most prominent spot and heavily promoted it, causing it to fly off the shelves.

Watching the scene, Heiji felt his blood boil.

It had to be Shoichi suppressing this newspaper!

He could not let such a brave publication fail in its launch in Osaka.

Deeply aware of the Sumitomo conglomerate's influence in Osaka, Heiji was consumed with worry and decided to contribute his own modest share of effort.

"So, why on earth would you recommend a newspaper that's busy cursing you?" Kazuha asked, looking at Heiji with a very strange expression.

......

"Sales are looking rather good today," Shoichi said with a smile.

He wasn't happy about the money the papers brought in, but rather because so many Osaka citizens were able to bathe in the brilliance of justice.

"Boss, but this kind of sales volume isn't stable," said the editor-in-chief, who had rushed over to Osaka.

They were currently capitalizing on the hype surrounding Heiji and Shoichi, but that buzz would eventually run dry.

"Oh, worst comes to worst, we can just write more about the differences between Tokyo and Osaka—things like how Osakans look down on Tokyo, viewing it as some country bumpkin town.

"And how Tokyoites look down on Osakans, calling them stingy, penny-pinching, and complaining about their harsh dialects."

These were the kinds of topics everyone loved to read about anyway.

"Oh, right," Shoichi continued. "Similar to those short stories I wrote before, we can also put out a call for outside submissions. Every selected piece will be rewarded with a minimum of fifty thousand yen."

More content that everyone loved to see.

It satisfied their worship-the-strong psychological state after the economic bubble burst, sweetened by the thrill of a fifty-thousand-yen incentive.

"Writers from the outside might not know what kind of content you're looking for, sir," the editor-in-chief ventured quietly.

"Just look at what's already printed in the newspaper, and they'll know exactly what kind of manuscripts we want."