Haibara Ai had once made a critical mistake.
She accidentally sent a disk containing confidential research data on Drug A to the university professor of her sister, Miyano Akemi.
In the original tiline, she had reported this to Dr. Agasa and Conan, and the three of them rushed to retrieve the disk. But the mont it was inserted into the professor's computer, the screen went black—the disk had triggered the "Dark Night Baron" virus.
It was a built-in self-destruction chanism: any data that left the Organization and was run on unauthorized hardware would be erased instantly.
A rare archive, lost forever.
But this ti, Hayashi Yoshiki was there.
He used the Death Note to manipulate a disposable accomplice who intercepted and saved the disk before it was destroyed.
His current strategy? Get soone from the Organization to access it via an authorized terminal—bypassing the virus. Then, later, when artificial intelligence matures... well, AI might prove a safer way to extract the data entirely.
"Still early," he muttered.
Blazing down the highway, Hayashi Yoshiki glanced at the dashboard clock: just past 4:00 p.m.
He was headed toward Ekoda City.
First, Koizumi Akako had texted him the night before, saying she had sothing for him.
Second, he had nothing else planned—and a leisurely drive sounded like a fine way to unwind.
Their eting ti was set for 4:40. More than enough ti.
Ding-a-ling-ling!
His phone rang just as he passed a highway sign.
It was Inspector gure Juzo.
"Hello, Inspector gure?"
"This is bad, Brother Hayashi!!"
"What happened?"
"A criminal just called and claid he's planted five bombs on the Toudou Loop Line! He says they'll explode after 4 p.m. if any train drops below 60 km/h! And if they aren't defused by sunset, they'll go off automatically!"
gure's voice was breathless, frantic.
"Where are you? I'm with Mouri Kogoro right now—we're heading to the Yamanote Line command center. We need every hand available!"
"I'm currently en route to Ekoda City," Hayashi Yoshiki replied, steering with one hand.
"Please, Hayashi! This guy's for real—a bomb already exploded in the park! If it hadn't been for Conan, we'd have casualties by now!"
gure's voice dropped with urgency.
"Lives are on the line. Tens of thousands of people ride the Loop Line."
"Inspector gure, relay what the criminal said again!" Conan called out, voice muffled by the bandages on his head.
gure repeated quickly: "The bombs are hidden at the 'X' positions along the Yamanote Line. Each 'X' represents a word. We're still decoding it."
"I see," Hayashi Yoshiki replied.
"I guess that the bombs are installed between the tracks."
"Huh?"
"Think about it. If the train drops below 60 km/h, or if it's after sunset, the bombs detonate. That sounds like a light-sensitive trigger."
"If the train passes over the bomb too slowly, it casts a shadow too long—blocking light. The bomb interprets this as a trigger condition."
"So, if the train is moved to another track, avoiding these bombs entirely, there's no trigger. That's your best option."
"..."
Silence fell.
Hayashi's voice carried clearly over gure's speakerphone, and everyone in the hospital room heard it—including Mouri Kogoro, Conan, and the railway officials.
Outside, occasional car horns sounded from Hayashi's end.
"Are you serious, Yoshiki?!"
Kogoro stepped forward, grabbing the phone.
"There are tens of thousands of people on those trains. If you're wrong, this could be a massacre!"
"It's the most reasonable explanation so far. Have the Railway Bureau started scanning the trains?"
"We're investigating now."
"It's just after 4. We have nearly two hours until sunset. Use that ti to verify. If bombs are found inside the carriages, great. If not—it's almost certainly my scenario."
"You're right," Kogoro admitted, nodding slowly.
Even Conan, lying stiffly in bed, gave a weary but respectful nod. Whether by logic or instinct, Hayashi Yoshiki's deduction was correct.
But...
Why does it always feel like he's a step ahead?
Conan couldn't tell if the tightness in his head was the bandage—or the humbling realization that even in his pri, he might not beat this man.
gure took back the phone and said with renewed resolve:
"Understood. I'll have the Railway Bureau carry out your suggestion. And Brother Hayashi—if this works, we won't forget your contribution."
"Don't worry about that now. Just make sure everyone gets out safely," Yoshiki replied, flatly.
The call ended.
Hayashi Yoshiki reached a red light. Two minutes to spare.
He retrieved his notebook, flipped it open, and wrote:
->Na:Moriya Teiji->Ti of Death:17:31, September 21->Cause: "Writes down the locations of his bombs and gunpowder reserves, and sends the file to the following anonymous email address: XXXXXXXX.XXXX.That night, boards the Shinkansen to Yokohama.Three days later, flies abroad, pretending it's a vacation.On the fifth day, dies in a car crash."
Hayashi Yoshiki had been waiting for him.
An architect and bomb expert with a dangerous obsession—Moriya Teiji was a man of rigid, almost pathological aesthetics. Hayashi had long been fascinated by his brand of madness.
And now, he finally had the chance to use him—to test whether the "Death Note's rule" (that it could not kill indirectly through third parties) had any exploitable loopholes.
A perfect opportunity to integrate the "script."
With less than 30 minutes of driving left, Hayashi Yoshiki stepped back on the gas.
Destination: Koizumi Akako.
Ti to see what this witch had waiting for him.
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