Chapter 22: Conan, you wouldn't want your secret to be discovered by Miss Mouri, would you?

Having successfully put on a show of composure, Karasawa felt quite pleased, sipping his coffee while observing Conan’s grim expression.

It was truly satisfying; he had finally managed to get a cup of coffee.

Living in a café for so many days without being able to drink a single cup—did that even make sense? Amuro Tooru always used the excuse that "children shouldn't drink coffee and need to sleep well" to serve him nothing but hot cocoa.

Hmph, it didn't matter. If he wouldn't make it, he would just make it himself!

To Conan, Karasawa’s joyful coffee break appeared as the unnerving, villainous calm of a mastermind. It caused Conan to furrow his brows, wearing an expression far too mature for his current age. "No one will believe such an absurd, baseless story."

"Indeed, everything I said is mere personal speculation; I have no evidence. But I suspect someone would be interested in this theory of mine, wouldn't they?" Karasawa spoke in a sinister tone, like a villain coercing a righteous protagonist, while reaching for the untouched Black Forest cake in front of Conan. "Are you not going to eat this? Then give it to me."

Conan gritted his teeth. He knew exactly who Karasawa was implying—Ran.

Damn it, he would call Professor Agasa the moment he got back and strictly reprimand him for his lack of quality control!

The blame, of course, did not lie with the genius inventor. Karasawa wasn't just making groundless accusations; he had come prepared. After digging through his "four-dimensional pocket" for quite some time, he had found several leather armbands—perhaps gear belonging to senior Makoto Niijima. Right now, hidden beneath his school uniform jacket, Karasawa’s right upper arm was tightly wrapped in a row of six armbands, effectively forming a leather plate.

He had no choice. Karasawa really didn't want to test the infallible tranquilizer dart. In the entire *Detective Conan* series, only that silver-haired executive could take a hit and stay standing. Since he didn't possess such rugged stats, he chose to stack his armor honestly.

The tranquilizer, intended for the exposed back of the neck, had failed to penetrate his plating. Karasawa hadn't felt even a hint of dizziness from the start.

"Who said I wasn't going to eat it!" Acting on a bit of a grudge, Conan held down the cake, picked up his fork, dug out a corner, and shoved it into his mouth. "...So, what do you mean by all this? Let me state for the record that my current state is the result of an accident."

"That wasn't hard to figure out." Karasawa rested his chin on his palm with a smile. "Kudo Shinichi, you’re a brilliant detective, aren't you? Let’s make a deal."

"What are you planning?" Conan stared back at Karasawa’s seemingly shimmering blue eyes, sensing a trap.

...And here Ran had said Karasawa was gentle and easy to get along with. The guy was clearly a total menace!

"I will keep your identity a secret, and I can help cover for you in the future. You clearly don't want to be a child forever, and I will do my best to help you find a way to turn back. In exchange..." Karasawa’s smile faded, and he spoke with grave seriousness, "you must accept my request: help me investigate the truth of a case and find everyone involved."

Conan, his mouth stuffed with soft cake, chewed twice. It was a tempting offer. Swallowing the food, he asked vaguely, "What case?"

"Slow down. You can order another one if you like." Seeing Conan’s cheeks bulging, Karasawa pushed the juice toward him before gesturing to himself. "My case."

"Eh?" It took a few seconds for Conan to react, his eyes widening in shock as he grasped the subtext.

Karasawa pulled a piece of paper from his commuter bag and slid it toward Conan. "I will compile all the information I have and give it to you. For me, this is a dead end, but for Kudo Shinichi, there might be a breakthrough to prove my innocence."

Conan looked at the document. It was Karasawa’s "Probationary Disposition Notice."

"Oh right, Ran said you were from Kyoto," Karasawa’s accent-free speech had made Conan forget he was a Kansai native. "You didn't transfer here; you are..."

"Here for probation." Karasawa finished the sentence, carefully loading a melancholic expression onto his face. "I am a former juvenile delinquent convicted of aggravated assault."

Conan reflexively frowned.

Karasawa might have a slightly twisted personality or be a bit of a schemer, but he didn't look like someone capable of committing a violent crime. On the contrary, when facing certain people—like the café waiter Amuro Tooru—Karasawa even seemed timid.

...Come to think of it, perhaps he wasn't afraid of Amuro, but of the supervisor of juvenile delinquents. It all clicked together.

Logic restored, Conan had a sudden realization and reached for the notice to read it through. "This is very strange. This notice doesn't even mention the nature of the crime, nor does it have the prosecutor's signature..."

"I was framed, but I couldn't do anything about it. The entire case was handled in Kyoto. Without the permission of a supervising officer, I can't leave Tokyo. It’s laughable, really—I don't even know the name of the accuser, so I can't appeal." Karasawa tucked the document back into his bag and looked at Conan earnestly. "But the 'Savior of the Japanese Police' will find a way, right?"

Conan’s brow didn't relax; he stared sharply at Karasawa. "Are you saying the police, or even the prosecutors, are involved in this?"

"That is why I have no one left to trust." Karasawa began to project that dark, brooding aura of someone on the verge of a breakdown, whispering in a soft, ghostly voice, "I am a victim of this hopeless system. I can only pray that someone outside of it can save me."

"...You said earlier you’d help cover for me, right?" Conan turned his head away, not wanting Karasawa to see his worried expression. Karasawa was right; his acting was terrible—he couldn't hide his emotions at all. "Come to think of it, having a helper living downstairs wouldn't be bad. A grade-schooler who can't do anything is too much of a hassle."

Karasawa had clearly lost all faith in the legal system; he was in a dangerous state, pushed to the edge. A detective seeking justice couldn't just watch such a person fall apart right before his eyes.

"So, will you accept my request?" Karasawa reined in the dark, "I'm-about-to-take-revenge-on-society" aura. In manga terms, his eyes regained their highlights.

"...Order another chiffon cake." Conan bit his fork, feigning dissatisfaction. "This one is too sweet."

Karasawa laughed and reached out to the tiny detective. "Then, it’s a deal."

"Thou art I... And I am thou..."

"Thou hast established a new bond."

"The bond shall become..."

"The wings that break the shackles and lead to freedom."

"I, the newly birthed mask of the Death, have been bathed in the winds of blessing."

"To soar toward the finale, adding further strength..."

Wait, wait a minute! What does it mean that the Tarot card is Death?!

Karasawa trembled, wanting to protest.

Unfortunately, Leon ignored his shocked pupils. With a cracking sound, the interface slammed down in front of him.

【Cooperation: Edogawa Conan / Kudo Shinichi】
【Arcana: Death, Rank 1】
【Though his body has shrunk, his mind remains sharp. The omniscient Great Detective—there is always only one truth!
Sorry for the wait, the long-overdue opening line!
...You ask about the man himself? If you don't know the legendary aura of this world's protagonist and need me to explain it further, I suggest you /remake; you won't survive three episodes anyway.】

【Learned Ability: "Breath Concealment Lv. 1"】