Chapter Seventeen: This Time, There's No Salvation

“Tarouzan!” Sonoko Suzuki dramatically leapt onto Tarouzan’s desk, her expression exaggerated. “What happened to your face?”

Tarouzan was momentarily stunned. Seeing her reaching out to touch his bandage, he quickly leaned back to avoid her. “Just a small scratch.”

Sonoko’s distressed expression was unmistakable—her thoughts clearly read, “How could anyone hurt such a face?”

Truly a devoted face lover.

Ran Mouri pulled her friend back, who was starting up again, and smiled awkwardly. “Ah, Sonoko didn’t mean to offend... Thank you for last night, Tarouzan.”

Kogoro Mouri, in high spirits, had somehow managed to drink several cans of beer inside the café. By closing time, he could barely walk in a straight line.

Although Ran’s actual fighting ability was that of a weak but swift young woman, it was unbecoming for a high school boy or even an adult to leave a girl to handle a thoroughly drunk man.

So Toru Amuro and Tarouzan worked together to carry Kogoro up to the third floor. After finishing his shift, Amuro left, while Tarouzan stayed to prepare hot water and hangover tea for Ran.

It wasn’t all just to earn goodwill; Tarouzan’s familiarity with handling chronic drinkers made the whole process smooth and effortless. Before Ran and Conan could react, Kogoro was neatly settled on the sofa.

Tarouzan’s reputation with Ran had swiftly risen from “the good-natured new classmate” to “the gentle and kind neighbor.”

“No big deal. How is Mr. Mouri this morning?”

“Thanks to your hangover tea, Dad is feeling refreshed.”

“That’s good to hear. Glad I could help.”

The two exchanged smiles, the atmosphere warm and friendly.

Sonoko stretched out her hand, sensing a crisis, and squeezed between them, turning her head left and right. “What are you two talking about? You’ve only been apart for two days and you’re already so familiar! That’s unfair, Ran. Your detective has only been gone a few days—you need to be loyal!”

Ran’s smile instantly faded. “Don’t remind me... That deduction fanatic called to say he had a troublesome case and had to leave for a while. No idea when he’ll come back...”

“Detective?” Tarouzan tilted his head curiously. “Who are you talking about?”

“Kudou Shinichi. He often makes the news; you probably have seen him before,” Sonoko said with a carefree pat on Ran’s shoulder. “He’s Ran’s childhood friend! Also a student in our class, but he disappeared before you transferred here, so you never got to meet him.”

“He’s a famous detective... And Mr. Mouri is a detective too, right?” Tarouzan was piecing together the characters in his mind, currently fitting the role of a melancholic youth yearning for justice but powerless to achieve it. He adopted a wistful expression he had once shown Amuro. “That’s wonderful...”

“Enough about that deduction fanatic, Ran. How about we go to the art museum together after school?” Sonoko quickly changed the subject, sensing Tarouzan’s mood dipping. “There’s been a rumor about strange happenings at the Beika Art Museum lately!”

“Beika Art Museum? They’re hosting a medieval art exhibition, right? I want to see it. I’ve heard there are many famous works and new collections. But when I asked Dad to go with me, he flatly refused...” Ran frowned, recalling Kogoro’s lazy demeanor.

Sonoko snapped her fingers. “Yes, that exhibition! There’s a night patrol guard who claims to have seen medieval armor come to life at midnight and walk around!”

“Eh? The strange event is some kind of supernatural occurrence?” Ran hesitated, a bit afraid of ghosts.

“Don’t you think that’s fascinating? It fits the mysterious aura of the medieval era perfectly. Since you want to go to the museum anyway, let’s all go together!” Sonoko revealed her true intent and turned to Tarouzan. “You haven’t had much chance to explore Beika Town yet, right? You should come too!”

Your map of Yan Country is a bit too small...

Having seen through Sonoko’s plan, Tarouzan naturally didn’t refuse. “Sure, but Ran still has to pick up Conan after school. Why not invite him to come along?”

Today marked the official start of the first-grade journey for the supposed elementary schooler. As something of a half-parent figure, Ran wouldn’t let the new student walk home alone on his first day.

“That brat, huh... alright.” If Conan wasn’t picked up, Sonoko might abandon the plan. If it were just her inviting Tarouzan to the exhibition, it would be a different matter—he might refuse.

Adding one more brat as a third wheel. Sonoko sighed.

After school, they picked up Conan at Teitan Elementary. Tarouzan met the legendary brat detective team and caught a displeased sideways glance from Conan.

A handsome new transfer student living right downstairs, spending as much time as Ran with Conan, set Conan’s rival radar blaring wildly.

Tarouzan, unwilling to bother with the East Asian jealousy king, responded with a good-natured, tolerant smile.

A man who can’t revert back is like this—he really gets anxious when a handsome guy appears around his childhood friend.

After Sonoko mentioned the art museum, Tarouzan spent a few hours digging through his memory for impressions related to cases.

He quietly took out his phone and tried entering the names of victims and perpetrators one by one, but unfortunately, none triggered the navigation app.

Makes sense. Apart from explosion cases, Conan’s world rarely has random killings. Most murders arise from complex interpersonal relationships.

Although victims are more likely to cause trouble than perpetrators—like the recently stopped death of Maru Denjirou—many are private grudges that don’t lead to twisted personalities. Mind alteration isn’t a cure-all; it can only punish perverts, not settle family squabbles or sudden illnesses.

By the way, Tarouzan had tried several prominent names from the stories. You could say the Conan universe has plenty of grand halls.

Sadly, the main characters mainly engage in intellectual duels with rivals, unlikely to get entangled in murders. This dampened Tarouzan’s enthusiasm. Still, the abundance of grand halls gave him substantial room to maneuver.

As a veteran player, Tarouzan knew well that a grand hall is born from “a powerful wish capable of distorting perception,” regardless of good or evil. Twisted scum create grand halls, severe psychological trauma victims create grand halls, even idealistic fanatics might create grand halls.

If he accidentally erased the obsession of a key character, it’d be disastrous. The Phantom Thief is only here to drive the plot forward and investigate the truth—not to ruin people’s morality.

“This is it, the Beika Art Museum!” Sonoko’s shout pulled Tarouzan out of his drifting thoughts. “That walking armor is in the medieval exhibition hall in the recent exhibit.”

“Sis Sonoko, we’re here to see the exhibit, not to visit a haunted house...” Conan twitched his mouth, standing at the entrance.

Sonoko waved her hand. “What does it matter? We’re buying tickets anyway.” With that, she naturally grabbed Tarouzan’s arm and pulled him into the line.

Tarouzan looked up at the medieval art museum’s banner. Bathed in the aura of death, he entered the future crime scene with a heavy heart and a somber sense of mourning.