Deep in the rugged mountain forest stood a small wooden cabin.
Kazuma Shiroyama's face showed surprise when he saw it.
But Hayashi Yoshiki did not; he quickened his pace slightly alongside Heiji Hattori.
Entering the cabin, the two first looked around. Inside were just so cabinets and no extra clutter, with only a single walkie-talkie resting alone on a cabinet.
There was originally another door inside the cabin, but it had been sealed shut with wooden boards and nails.
"There's a window in that room. You can climb in through it!"
Heiji recalled the window he saw earlier on the cabin's exterior.
He imdiately dashed over.
Hayashi Yoshiki followed behind calmly.
The window sill was a bit high; with one hand on the sill, he skillfully and gracefully climbed over. After landing, he saw Heiji staring inside the cabin in astonishnt.
Following his gaze, the room was plastered everywhere with newspapers about Kudo Shinichi — every newspaper report with photos related to this high school detective's famous cases covered almost the entire room.
"This… what is this?"
Ran was about to climb through the window too, but as she moved her leg over, Hayashi Yoshiki gently pressed down on the hem of her skirt.
This considerate gesture brought a faint smile to her face.
Kogoro Mouri noticed but said nothing; instead, as he climbed through the window, he accidentally tripped and fell awkwardly to the ground.
Hayashi Yoshiki laughed and helped him up.
"The owner of this cabin really seems to admire Kudou."
Heiji first comnted this, then suddenly changed tone:
"Admire him enough to want to kill him—"
Everyone's eyes imdiately landed on a newspaper pinned right in the center of the wall.
On Kudou Shinichi's photo were several vicious knife slashes crisscrossing his face, with a knife stabbed directly through the picture's face.
On a nearby table, a line of words was carved with a knife:
"If not success, then death."
Hayashi Yoshiki stepped forward and touched the knife marks.
"They're cut deep… both on this desk and the wall behind this newspaper. You can tell a lot of force was used. This was definitely carved in a state of extre anger."
Next to the desk lay a broken mirror on the floor.
"I just had an interesting thought."
"When we were investigating at the forr village chief's house, wasn't there a room similarly plastered with photos of Kudo?"
"Okuda Makoto, he must be a fan of Kudo."
"But after the forr chief's tragedy, he left the village. No one has seen or contacted him for a year…"
"The letter we received was supposedly from him, claiming he found a flaw in Kudo's reasoning from a year ago. The whole village hates Kudo because of that… And as the adopted son of the village chief, his hatred may run even deeper."
"I once handled a case involving a blue ancient castle."
"The situation was that the castle's maid, coveting the treasure left by the deceased master, killed the old lady in the castle's secret passage, then surgically altered her young face to look like the old lady's, assuming her identity and secretly hunting the treasure."
"You an… plastic surgery?"
Hayashi Yoshiki's words hit like a hamr, leaving everyone a bit dazed.
Plastic surgery still sounds sowhat surreal in ordinary detective logic.
But if so, the logic fits…
Heiji stared at the broken mirror on the ground, and following Hayashi Yoshiki's guess, the reasoning only seed more and more plausible.
"You're saying that Kudo Shinichi is actually Master Makoto?"
Kazuma Shiroyama opened his mouth to object:
"That can't be! No one talks to him."
Having inspected everything to a satisfactory degree, Hayashi Yoshiki was ready to leave…
Before departing, he thoughtfully extended his hand to Ran.
She held it carefully as she climbed down, still harboring doubts but managing a faint smile.
At that mont, Hayashi Yoshiki suddenly glanced toward the forest.
Facing the empty expanse ahead, he seed to smile slightly.
"Will you co with for a dical exam then?"
"..."
The girl nodded, cheeks slightly flushed.
Soon, the group descended the mountain.
Local police were still investigating the cabin. Heiji brought the hidden Kudo Shinichi, who had been concealed in Hayashi Yoshiki's car, to the police officer and inford him that Kudo was the culprit.
The officer looked incredulous.
He was the sa policeman who, with Kudo's help a year ago, successfully solved a case, and thus had a strong impression of the high school detective.
"How could this be! The reasoning you ca up with a year ago was brilliant! You instantly saw through the flaws like lightning and guided us to crack that case! Why would such a brilliant mind—"
"You overestimate ."
Kudo Shinichi's voice was hoarse as he lowered his head.
Tears flowed from his eyes.
"Because I'm not a god. I have grudges, I make mistakes… just like in the case a year ago, when I wrongly accused the innocent village chief of murder!"
The policeman's expression froze.
He suddenly rembered that this man had lost his mory and recalled nothing. He was about to revisit that old case.
"I was terrified, because that reporter threatened to expose the reasoning mistake I made a year ago, and ruin my reputation I've built up so far, so I…"
While Kudo Shinichi stood there, sobbing uncontrollably, Hayashi Yoshiki walked up smiling.
Click.
He held out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed Kudo Shinichi's right hand.
"Congratulations, Kudo-san. You're under arrest."
Kudo's expression stiffened.
Before him, Hayashi Yoshiki's handso face bore a gentle smile as he said:
"I've wanted to do this for a long ti. Now, please raise your other hand."
Kudou hesitated.
He still had a hidden gun for ergencies, but the way things had unfolded now seed to be exactly what he wanted… the gun probably wouldn't be needed. Find the newest release on NoveI-Fire.ɴet
So he raised his other hand.
Without hesitation, Hayashi Yoshiki cuffed his other hand as well, ensuring there was no worry about violent behavior.
Tears still streaming, Kudo looked timid:
"What will happen to now?"
"That's no longer my concern, Okuda Makoto."
Upon hearing that na, Kudo Shinichi — no, Okuda Makoto's face went completely stiff, his pale face twisting for a mont.
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