Chapter Sixty-Two Very Simple

"Issued uniformly by the company?" Suzuki Sonoko said with a gasp upon hearing the answer. "Your company is so troublesome, what an outdated system."

"It's not just the bags; the watches and tie clips are uniform too," Nakajima Hideaki said, spreading his hands. "Actually, this bag is quite a hassle—big, heavy, and inconvenient to carry... nowadays, only the president still walks around with it all day."

"Cough-hem!" A deliberate cough sounded. Nakajima Hideaki and the others looked over, immediately clamped their mouths shut, called out "President," "Good morning, President," and bolted toward the employee passage with flying feet.

The president of Manntendo looked at their retreating backs with displeasure, seeming to silently take note of their faces, then glanced sideways at Suzuki Sonoko, who had just been speaking. Catching sight of the investor's admission pass hanging around her neck, his expression shifted instantly. He eagerly stepped forward to exchange pleasantries with her, then hailed Kogoro Mouri.

"Such a hypocritical adult," Conan muttered, looking at him with half-moons in his eyes.

"Conan, don't talk like that," Mouri Ran tugged at him, took her luggage claim tag, and said pleasantly, "Number 100, right on the dot! What great luck, something good is bound to happen today!"

Indeed, that would be fantastic. Karasawa nodded in agreement.

"Let's go look around the venue, Uncle Mouri won't be able to get away for a while," Conan said, watching Kogoro Mouri being pulled aside by the president.

"Let's go." Karasawa stretched his fingers with eager anticipation.

Ever since crossing over into this world, Bourbon and Akai Shuichi had launched attacks in turns, alongside Conan and Kid. On top of that, he had to play his role as the Phantom Thief and prepare for infiltrating the Black Organization. Karasawa hadn't had any free time for entertainment and hadn't touched a video game console in ages, making him eager to try.

"Want to have a match?" His eyes shone as he looked at the group.

Mouri Ran readily nodded, clenching her fist with fighting spirit. "Don't underestimate me, I'm actually pretty good at arcade games."

That was true. After all, people with good luck tended to land critical hits more easily in fighting games... thought Conan, a gaming novice and African non-酋 (unlucky person), muttering to himself.

"Then let's put something on the line," Karasawa flashed a grin. "The loser has to treat us to dinner!"

Two hours later.

"I give up, I give up." Suzuki Sonoko tossed aside the game controller in her hand and shouted, "Karasawa, are you doing this on purpose? Who on earth could possibly win against a level like yours?!"

Karasawa was still frantically rubbing the game controller. On the screen, the little character leaped and slashed with fluid agility. After executing a flashy combo, the towering boss collapsed, and a crowd of tourists gathered behind him couldn't help breaking into applause.

He rubbed the back of his neck, stretched his shoulders, and stood up from his seat. Nodding to the onlookers, he stepped out of the enclosure with casual ease, yielding the overheating demo machine.

"Is this game really that hard? I thought it was fine, and the demo isn't even that long," Karasawa said, unscrewing a bottle of water and taking a sip. "The art and the storyline are both pretty interesting. I'll definitely buy it once it's released."

"What do you mean, it's not hard?!" protested Conan loudly, having been carried away three times in ten minutes and completely exhausting his demo attempts. "Except for you, who didn't finish after playing for just over ten minutes?"

"It really is fine. Once you get the hang of the techniques, it's pretty relaxed..." For someone like Karasawa, who had beaten *Hollow Knight*'s Pantheon of Hallownest (all bindings), a Metroidvania-style side-scrolling action game like this was a breeze after getting slightly familiar with the controls.

He checked the box for "Very Easy" on the evaluation form handed to him by a staff member, and amidst the staffer's green, pale complexion, he enthusiastically picked up a promotional pamphlet to scout his next trial target.

"No way, at this rate we're bound to lose," Suzuki Sonoko said, deeply unwilling.

Conan chimed in, "We can't just admit defeat like this!"

He genuinely had no aptitude for video games. Having been utterly crushed by Karasawa in ten consecutive matches of the fighting game, his blood pressure had spiked, and all thoughts of Joker or Crow were completely driven from his mind.

Mouri Ran kneaded her sore fingers and smiled wryly. "It's fine even if we lose, isn't it? It's just treating someone to a meal."

"'No way!'" Suzuki Sonoko and Conan retorted in unison.

At this point, it was no longer about the stakes; it was purely about the desire to win.

Suzuki Sonoko picked up her copy of the pamphlet and studied it intently, her eyes suddenly lighting up.

"Let's do this one!" She pointed at an event. "Let me see where it is."

Conan leaned in to see the game she was pointing at and nodded eagerly.

Mouri Ran looked over the pamphlet for a long time, guessing the machine's purpose with a puzzled look.

"Right, it's that machine where you put on boxing gloves and punch to get a score!" Suzuki Sonoko grabbed her arm and said earnestly, "It's all up to you, Ran! You're our last hope!"

"E12, over there!" Conan pointed in a direction and pulled Karasawa, who was still browsing the manual with great interest, along with them.

"Huh? Do you guys want to play a specific machine? Let's go take a look then." Karasawa had heard every word of their conversation, but he just went with the flow, letting Conan tug his sleeve and drag him along.

There was a high probability that he'd run into the soon-to-be-blown-up corporate worker this way, meaning his rare, out-of-print bottle of liquor wasn't far off.

"This is it!" Suzuki Sonoko said, putting her hands on her hips and pointing at an arcade machine ahead.

Sure enough, the glasses-wearing employee they had met at the entrance was standing right in front of the machine.

A broad-shouldered, bulky man let out a roar and struck the target of the machine with a heavy blow.

Neon lights flashed across the machine, cheerful music played, and the digital display showed "248."

"What a pity. If this machine hits 250, there's a really grand effect," Takeshita Hironobu pushed up his glasses and looked at his colleague behind him. "Nakajima! Do you want to give it a try?"

"What?" Nakajima Hideaki, who had been somewhat absent-minded, was snapped out of his daze by the call and turned around.

"Yeah, Nakajima, give it a shot," Ueda Koji, the third person who had appeared with them that morning, threw an arm around his shoulder. "Wasn't you in the boxing club back in university? Hitting this should be a breeze for you."

Pushed forward from both sides by the two men, Nakajima Hideaki had no choice but to take off his suit jacket, put on the boxing gloves, and say with false modesty, "That was all in the past, I'm pretty rusty now. I'll just give it a try..."

He put on the gloves, adjusted his breath, and swung a punch.

The screen flashed the number "362," and the lights on the machine burst into dazzling visual effects. Accompanied by stirring audio, a spotlight beamed down on Nakajima Hideaki standing before the machine.

He smiled broadly, yet still said, "I wouldn't even call this amateur level, the upper limit of this machine isn't very high..."

He took off the gloves, caught sight of the four people standing behind them, and handed the gloves toward Mouri Ran, the prettiest of the group. "Miss Mouri, would you like to try? This is a great way to relieve stress."

Since she was Kogoro Mouri's daughter, Nakajima Hideaki wouldn't dare entertain any outrageous thoughts, but showing off his coolness to a pretty high school girl and basking in a wave of admiring gazes was something he was more than happy to do.

Karasawa slanted a glance at him and mentally reviewed the scene.

With that level of flirting game, getting blown up was no injustice at all.