"Mr. Hayashiki, this is the contract our publishing house has prepared after careful discussion. Please take a look."
The document was handed over respectfully with both hands.
Hayashiki reached out and took it, his slender fingers gently pressing one side of the contract. After a brief glance, he naturally handed it to the woman beside him.
Eri Kisaki was a capable woman.
She accepted the contract with poise, her refined features calm as she quietly read through it without a word.
Opposite them, the editor from the publishing house, Nanae Asamiya, simply smiled and waited patiently. She was confident in the terms her company had offered.
After reviewing the entire contract, Eri Kisaki couldn't help but nod in approval.
The conditions were surprisingly generous, with no unreasonable clauses. The publishing house had clearly approached this with sincerity.
"There's nothing wrong with the contract. It's rare to see such a clean and fair business document these days."
She looked up at the editor with a slightly surprised expression. "To be honest, even many best-selling authors don't get terms like these—let alone ordinary novelists."
"Well, our publishing house is confident in Mr. Hayashiki's potential. And this contract was the result of repeated discussions between our editor-in-chief and the president... Both of them are big fans of his previous work."
Asamiya Nanae smiled brightly.
Of course, that wasn't exactly true.
The reasons behind the generosity remained unclear, but Hayashiki seemed appreciative. He set down his coffee cup and smiled warmly.
Asamiya felt slightly dazzled.
The young man in front of her was simply too good-looking.
His black hair shimmered softly under the light, and his features were strikingly refined. With a calm smile and a clear, gentle voice, he exuded a quiet, graceful presence.
Anyone meeting him for the first time would likely be left with the same impression: a serene, refined, and thoughtful young man.
"Ahem… So, Mr. Hayashiki, are you satisfied with the contract? Or is there anything you'd like us to change?"
"No, everything looks great. I'm very satisfied."
"Wonderful. Then, if everything's in order, shall we proceed...?"
"Please hand me a pen."
Asamiya promptly handed him a pen with both hands.
Under her guidance, and with Eri Kisaki watching attentively, Hayashiki signed his name and formally handed over the publication rights for his new work to the publishing house.
With the task complete, Editor Asamiya quickly stood up and left to report back.
Now, only Hayashiki and Eri Kisaki remained in the booth.
"Congratulations, Hayashiki."
Kisaki turned to him with a smile, her mature beauty glowing with warmth. "That was an excellent contract."
"Thank you, Aunt Eri. I appreciate you coming with me today."
"For something this important, of course I had to make time. I wouldn't feel at ease otherwise."
As she spoke, Kisaki glanced at the watch on her wrist. Realizing it was nearly time to go, she picked up her bag.
"But I have to head to the office soon. If you need anything, call me later, Hayashiki."
"Got it. Are you working late again tonight?"
"Yes, I have a case going to court soon. But it shouldn't run too late."
"I see. Please drive safely."
"Thanks. See you later."
Kisaki Eri hurried off.
After watching her get into her Mini Cooper and drive away, Hayashiki had no intention of lingering in the café. He stepped out onto the street, waited a moment, then raised his hand to hail a taxi.
"Please take me to Mika Second Apartments."
The door shut, and the taxi sped off toward its destination.
Although it was already spring, the March air still carried a slight chill.
Inside the smooth-moving cab, the car radio played a new single from the popular idol Yoko Okino.
The streets slipped past outside the window—middle-aged pedestrians hurrying by, young couples walking arm in arm, the impatient honking that followed the instant a light turned green... everything felt vivid and alive.
Hayashiki had been living in this world for over a year now and had fully adapted.
After all, he could find no sign that this was a fictional reality.
Life was, after all, about flesh and blood, breath and heartbeat. Hayashiki knew full well: blood didn't turn to ink when spilled, and if you ran far enough in one direction, you wouldn't hit the edge of a screen. Everything here was too detailed, too grounded to be anything but real.
His real name was Hayashiki.
He had lived a relatively successful life for over twenty years before suddenly, without explanation, waking up in a world that felt both familiar and strange.
Of course, he had watched *Detective Conan*.
And yet, after waking up here, he hadn't just gained a legal identity—he also possessed new memories and relationships embedded deep within this familiar body and mind.
"Sir, are you in a hurry?"
The middle-aged driver had noticed Hayashiki glancing repeatedly at his watch and asked out of curiosity.
"No, not at all," Hayashiki replied. "But would you mind switching to the news station?"
The driver changed the station without hesitation.
It was 2:18 in the afternoon.
The news station was replaying an earlier broadcast. Hayashiki watched the seconds tick by on his watch—until it reached exactly 2:21 and 30 seconds.
> "According to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the suspect, Shigehiko Nishikawa, suffered a sudden heart attack at 8 p.m. on March 16 during a police operation and died on the way to the hospital."
> "Inspector Megure reported that Nishikawa had committed numerous violent crimes, including carjacking, sexual assault, and loan sharking…"
The anchorwoman's voice was calm and professional, but to Hayashiki, it gradually faded into the background.
He silently compared the report with his memory—line by line.
A small smile crept onto his lips.
> "It's exactly the same."
> "A scumbag died. That's a relief."
The driver, perhaps hardened by years behind the wheel, chuckled lightly as he muttered in agreement. Even he felt somewhat vindicated by the news.
Still smiling faintly, Hayashiki replied softly: