"That was definitely not an accident. It was directed at me."
"But the other party didn't intend to kill me."
As soon as the call connected, Hayashi Yoshiki got straight to the point.
Odagiri Toshiro fell silent.
He had already heard about Hayashi Yoshiki's sudden accident the previous night. The surveillance footage and preliminary investigation from the Osaka Police Department had been forwarded to the task force immediately.
After a moment, Odagiri spoke in a heavy voice:
"...I'm very sorry for involving you."
"There's no need to apologize to me, Minister Odagiri."
Under the calm gaze of Hattori Heizo, Hayashi Yoshiki's expression remained serene.
He turned his head slightly to look out the window.
The sky outside was clear and blue, and his black eyes reflected it—bright and without shadow.
"Joining the task force was my own decision."
"In fact, I'm honored to be part of it."
"Do you know why I became a detective?"
"To be honest... I've always considered myself someone with talent. I thought maybe—if I became a detective—I could use that to help people."
"Whether it's bringing cunning criminals to justice or helping the innocent clear their names, I think that's meaningful work."
"And now, we're dealing with a murderer lurking in the shadows, killing people using cruel and unexpected methods. Even if his victims are 'bad people'... murder is still murder. I can't just sit back and do nothing."
Though his voice was weak due to his injuries, both Hattori Heizo and Odagiri Toshiro could clearly feel his unwavering resolve.
There was a moment of silence.
"I understand, Mr. Hayashi."
"With your help, we'll find the killer and bring them to justice!"
"That's right," Hayashi smiled. "How's Hakuba doing?"
"Director Hakuba's son? He's fine. Nothing happened to him."
"Do you think he might have been targeted?"
"...I'm not sure. But it's possible."
Hayashi's tone grew serious:
"That bizarre killing method—it was unmistakably him. And there's no doubt it was aimed at me. But he didn't intend to kill me. It might've been a provocation... or a warning."
"If you think about it, the closest I've come to the task force publicly was probably at that intersection..."
"—When we opened the mocking invitation the killer left, I went to the scene with Hakuba."
"It's possible the murderer was watching us from the crowd that day."
"We considered that too," Odagiri replied.
"But the surveillance footage and witness interviews from that day turned up nothing. No suspicious individuals, no vehicles out of place."
"Minister Odagiri... what really troubles me is that I told no one I was coming to Osaka yesterday."
"We've always believed that the killer's 'accidental' murders require intricate planning and meticulous preparation. But this time... it didn't feel like that."
On the other end of the call, Odagiri frowned deeply.
He didn't doubt Yoshiki's words—but if they were true, it was deeply disturbing.
An elaborate "accident" carried out so quickly, without any preparation?
That's not just clever... it's almost supernatural.
But Hayashi Yoshiki's deductions were always on point—and this one made chilling sense.
Odagiri glanced down at the investigation file in his hand.
It detailed every move Ed Michael made after arriving from the U.S. the night before.
A foreigner, murdered in dramatic fashion, just one day after entering Japan...
And how did the killer know Hayashi Yoshiki would be in Osaka that day?
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Odagiri closed the file and ended the call, having no answers to give.
Hayashi Yoshiki let out a small sigh.
Talking too long in his condition was exhausting.
"Director Hattori, at the 3K World Restaurant's cocktail party last night, Ed Michael said, 'I don't know who sent me the invitation, but I'm grateful to them.'
Maybe we can investigate that angle."
"Understood. Mr. Hayashi, please focus on your recovery."
Hattori Heizo stood up, replying with full sincerity.
He looked at the young man before him—only a few years older than his own son—and felt both admiration and sorrow.
"We'll continue the investigation and update you as soon as we have something."
With that, Hattori Heizo left.
Left alone, Hayashi Yoshiki ignored the pain in his left hand. He raised it slowly, forming a fist... then relaxing it... again and again.
Writing with his left hand would be fine.
He wasn't foolish enough to injure both hands and render himself unable to write in the Death Note.
As for what he'd just told Odagiri—that the murderer was "more efficient than expected"—that was all intentional.
[The murderer possesses inhuman abilities]
Leaving that impression with the task force would be useful for his future plans.
As long as he didn't slip up, no one would suspect him.
In fact, the more supernatural the murderer seemed, the less likely people would look at those closest to the case. After all, someone capable of such killings... couldn't possibly be just a man.
People constrained by limited knowledge and imagination often thought like that.
Not long after Heizo left, Ran returned.
She sat by the bed and asked how he was feeling.
"I'm okay... What about Heiji and Conan?"
"They rushed off suddenly and didn't tell me where they were going."
Hearing that, Yoshiki recalled Conan's position just before he left. After a moment of thought, he smiled faintly.
Not long after, the dark-skinned Osaka boy and the little detective returned.
They looked troubled—but tried hard to hide it.
"So, what did my dad tell you, little brother?"
Heiji walked up, casually trying to make conversation.
But as he did, Conan—standing beside him—quietly reached under the bed... and removed the listening bug he'd hidden there.