Chapter 21: The Skinning Blade Technique

Karasawa leaned forward, looking levelly at the grade-schooler, who was drenched in a cold sweat.

Karasawa mused that Conan looked quite comical like this—mouth agape, eyes wide and fixed, resembling a hamster frozen in terror. Taking a tranquilizer dart had certainly not been an accident; he had deliberately maneuvered into it, taking advantage of Sonoko’s proximity.

According to his previous deductions, the primary characters of the "Red" side were all capable of triggering a Co-op. With Conan being such a massive protagonist, it would make no sense for Karasawa not to try, though the identity of Karasawa昭 (Akira) was a bit awkward. The day he transferred schools was the very day Kudo Shinichi began his absence. They had never met as classmates, and given Karasawa’s current predicament of being surrounded by the Organization, it wasn’t ideal to get close to Conan slowly. The current Conan was a reckless brute who would dare crawl into Gin’s Porsche to plant a wiretap; he was prone to causing trouble.

Karasawa figured that since the conditions for triggering a Co-op involved keywords like promises, transactions, or contracts, then seizing leverage could also be considered a form of transaction. Conan’s greatest leverage was his secret identity, which everyone on the Red side seemed to know anyway. Today was a beautiful day, a fine day for stripping away masks, and the timing of the murder case was perfect. So, Karasawa had seized the opportunity to engineer the encounter.

"It seems you are a little child with secrets, Conan-kun." With his back to the others, Karasawa wore a rather unkind, sinister expression that made Conan break into another cold sweat, before he straightened up with a smile.

"Mouri-san!" Karasawa raised his voice.

"No, wait...!" Conan panicked, lunging forward to stop Karasawa from continuing, but being shorter than Karasawa’s waist, he could only reach his elbow.

"What is it?" Ran Mouri looked over, puzzled.

*Don’t do this!* Conan gripped Karasawa’s forearm tightly, dangling uselessly and kicking his legs, his heart wailing.

"Could I borrow this little one for a moment?" Karasawa held Conan—who was still hanging onto him—by the armpits, lifting him to chest height. "He was a huge help with the case today; he’s very capable. I promised him I’d treat him to cake."

"Did this child bother you? You don’t need to be so polite," Ran said, looking at the stunned Conan with a sense of embarrassment.

"Not at all, not at all. He found some crucial evidence today and made a great contribution. He’s quite the little detective, isn't he?" Karasawa set down the shell-shocked Conan, whose mind was still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster, and smiled as he patted the boy's round head.

Conan blinked as Karasawa’s pat signaled a system reboot. He quickly shouted in a childish tone, "Yes! I want cake! Big brother is taking me to eat cake!"

Conan breathed a sigh of relief. As long as Ran didn't find out, anything was fine. Karasawa didn't know Kudo Shinichi, so even if he thought his behavior was unusual, he likely wouldn't connect it to his true identity... right? After all, an adult turning into a child was a concept that defied common sense. Clinging to a shred of luck, Conan pondered this in his heart.

***

Ran Mouri had no guard against their new neighbor, Karasawa, who was thoughtful and had a pleasant temperament; instead, she was worried that the mischievous boy might cause trouble. After giving Conan a few instructions, she let Karasawa lead the fake grade-schooler away.

The main entrance of the art museum was already surrounded by reporters who had caught wind of the story. Inspector Megure, in charge of the investigation, was blocked at the door giving interviews. Karasawa took one look at the scene from afar and decided to avoid the front entrance, pulling Conan away through a side exit.

True to his word, Karasawa actually found a dessert shop in the shopping district.

"You don't seem to want to initiate conversation with me, so I'll start," Karasawa said, stirring his warm coffee and resting his chin on his hand as he looked at Conan, who was glaring intensely at his cake plate. "Since there is a 'Sleeping Karasawa Akira,' the moniker 'Sleeping Kogoro Mouri' is something you cooked up, right? I rarely saw Mr. Mouri in the social pages before. You’ve only been staying at their place for a few days, and suddenly, Mr. Mouri emerges from obscurity..."

"!" Conan’s hands, resting on his knees, tightened instantly as he looked up to meet Karasawa’s gaze.

"It seems I hit the mark, little one." Karasawa gripped a sugar cube between his index and middle fingers, making a 'V' sign. "Next question: is your name really 'Edogawa Conan,' and are you really a grade-schooler? Has no one ever reminded you that your acting is truly terrible?"

Conan’s secret identity was one of the most agonizing plot holes in the *Conan* series. Conan’s performance was simply too outrageous—a first-grader entering murder scenes as if he owned the place, landing planes, kicking satellites with soccer balls—so much so that almost every intelligent character on the Red side would, after a few rounds of sparring, realize that Conan was actually Kudo Shinichi. Even Kogoro Mouri, whose neck had been turned into a pincushion, had eventually caught on. His disguise was designed only to fool the dim-witted.

Conan was essentially surfing the internet under his real name while on the Red side. Plus, he would pop a temporary antidote and wander around in his "big" form at the drop of a hat. Eventually, to keep the plot together, Gin was saddled with a strange setting where he couldn't remember the faces of the dead—a true "memory-erasing technique."

Conan watched the sugar cube submerge in the coffee cup. He resisted for a moment, but couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "That's a bit much..."

"It only fools the careless," Karasawa evaluated objectively. "You’re in school, too... take a good look at the children in your grade, and then look at yourself. Smart children, smart teenagers, and smart adults—while they are all 'smart,' the way they express it is completely different. Let me guess..."

Karasawa picked up another sugar cube and swung it slowly back and forth in front of Conan’s eyes. "You are definitely not an adult, but you aren't that young either... A high schooler?"

Conan’s startled gaze followed the movement of his fingers. It was quite amusing, like a cat.

Karasawa dropped this sugar cube into the cup as well. The falling square splashed, and as Conan watched the white sugar slowly dissolve and sink, he couldn't help but feel it was a metaphor for his own fragile disguise.

"A high schooler, a detective, a high school detective from Tokyo..." Karasawa picked up another cube, holding it suspended over the cup, tilting his head as if in thought. "Hmm, though I don't know how you managed it, the recently missing high school detective from Tokyo—"

With a soft *plop*, Karasawa released his fingers, and the sugar cube fell into the coffee.

Conan slowly shifted backward, pressing his back against the seat, unsure if he wanted to distance himself from Karasawa, who was reciting such terrifying lines, or if he just wanted some physical support.

Stopping while he was ahead, Karasawa swallowed the name that had been on the tip of his tongue and ceased his logical explanation. He winked his right eye and took a sip of the now-syrupy coffee.

As he set the porcelain cup back down, the base clicked against the saucer with a crisp sound, like a chess piece being placed firmly on the board.

"Checkmate," Karasawa concluded.