Ding-a-ling-ling! Ding-a-ling-ling!
The rapid ringing of the cell phone echoed through the quiet wine cellar.
Pisco glanced at Hayashi Yoshiki and asked silently with his eyes:
Hayashi responded calmly.
What he had written in the Death Note specified that Karasuma Renya himself would call Pisco—so a call through Gin would invalidate the sequence.
Pisco obediently set the phone down.
Gin's call lasted several seconds before disconnecting when he realized it wasn't going through.
Hayashi kept his eyes on the time. 18:50 came and went. No new call.
Based on Pisco's visibly shaken reaction at the mention of Karasuma Renya, there was little doubt that his memory of the man's face was accurate.
But the Death Note has limits: it cannot kill humans older than 120 years.
Karasuma Renya was said to be over 140...
Hayashi Yoshiki had anticipated this outcome—he wasn't disappointed.
Today's harvest was still more than enough.
He glanced at the unsettled Pisco, then pulled a strand of brown hair from his pocket. It was what he had covertly taken from Haibara Ai earlier in the conference hall.
He placed the hair in the fireplace at the back of the wine cellar and smiled.
"All right. Let's return to the meeting hall, Mr. Masuyama."
The two left the cellar, one behind the other.
Back at the venue, the police were questioning Vermouth. Meanwhile, Kenzo Masuyama, one of the seven suspects, had vanished for far too long—when he returned, officers immediately pulled him aside for interrogation.
Inspector Megure Jūzō approached Hayashi.
"Brother Hayashi! Where have you been? Have you found any clues?"
"Apologies. Conan told me Ai had gone missing—I went to look for her."
"What!? The police didn't even notice she was gone! We'll launch a search immediately."
"Regarding the case, I believe I've uncovered some clues..."
Hayashi briefly explained the method Kenzo Masuyama had used.
The purple handkerchief concealed the muzzle flash from the gunshot.
A fluorescent agent marked the chandelier's chain.
Pisco had lured Shigehiko Tsunoguchi beneath the chandelier, then shot the marked spot to make it collapse.
Even without naming the murderer directly, Megure's demeanor shifted. A new lead was a breakthrough.
Hayashi excused himself, citing his need to continue searching for Haibara.
Once alone, he opened the new message from Gin:
Gin: "Where's that Pisco guy?"
Cointreau: "Under police investigation."
Cointreau: "He killed the target by shooting the chandelier's support. It was crude—he's now one of seven police suspects."
Cointreau: "I've ruled out four suspects, leaving three. I couldn't stand watching his amateur work—and I won't help the police solve the case, either."
Gin, approaching the Haido Hotel, read Hayashi's message and his face turned cold.
This was a simple mission.And yet Pisco—what the hell was he thinking?
Compared to Cointreau, Pisco wasn't even fit to be called an amateur.
Gin's blood boiled as he considered how many incompetents like Pisco were wasting Organization resources.
Gin: "Forget him. Don't expose yourself."
Cointreau: "Understood."
Just then, Vodka, riding in the passenger seat, spoke up.
"Brother, Pisco's computer was just activated. He seems to have accessed important files."
"Trace the transmitter. Find its exact location."
At that moment, the Haido Hotel came into view.
As Gin and Vodka parked and exited the vehicle, Conan, hidden in Dr. Agasa's car, spotted them immediately.
"Haibara! I see Gin and Vodka—they're heading inside!"
"Don't worry. I'm out."
"Hayashi-san found me. It was a misunderstanding—his editor saw me fainted and helped me into a hotel room to rest."
Relief washed over Conan. If Pisco hadn't discovered her identity, then the worst had been avoided.
He hung up and leapt out of the car to follow Gin and Vodka.
Dr. Agasa tried to stop him—but failed.
Following the transmitter's trail, Gin and Vodka arrived at the wine cellar in the hotel's old wing.
Without hesitation, Gin pulled out his handgun and shot the lock.
Vodka pushed the door open and entered first, gun in hand.
Gin went directly to the laptop on the table, while Vodka swept the room, searching behind cabinets.
"Why would Pisco stash a computer here?"
"Caution. If the murder at the venue failed, he might've brought the victim here."
Gin found nothing on the laptop... until his eyes caught something near the fireplace.
A strand of brown hair.
Then, slowly, a sinister grin formed on his face.
"Brother, we should go. Now."
With that, the two left the wine cellar—but within moments, they began ascending the staircase of the old building.
Conan, hiding in a corner, saw them climb the stairs. He didn't dare follow—but curiosity gnawed at him. What had they done in the wine cellar?
As soon as they were out of sight, Conan slipped inside.
Later that evening, snow began falling heavily over Tokyo.
By the time Gin and Vodka reached the rooftop of the old Haido Hotel building, a thin layer of white had blanketed everything.
Next to the chimney, Gin spotted the figure that had haunted his thoughts—
Miyano Shiho, seated in the snow, dressed poorly, shivering.
Without hesitation, Gin raised his pistol—
A shot pierced her shoulder. Blood splattered onto the pristine snow.
"I missed you so much, Shirley!"
His dark green eyes gleamed.
Gin grinned maniacally.
"Look at this… Isn't it beautiful? The white snow fluttering in the wind… stained with red.""Your disguise may be ugly, but this scenery—this rooftop—is the perfect place to send a traitor to hell, don't you think? Shirley~!"