Jangxia Tongzhi doesn't actually have any weird hobbies like "beating people."
He just likes the sensation of smoothing out murderous intent, like fluffing cotton.
And this time, the curator had a bonus leg shikigami stuck to him—buy one, get one free. So Jangxia hit a little harder than usual.
By the time he'd knocked out all the murderous aura, a few frozen children had gathered beside him.
They'd stayed upstairs at first, not daring to move because Jangxia had ordered them to "stay put."
But the curator's howling was so miserable, even Conan couldn't ignore it. After a minute of listening, his conscience got the better of him—he ran downstairs.
The other three kids followed him out of instinct.
Once they reached the first floor, Conan turned on a flashlight—and they all got a good look at the tragic mess that was the Curator.
That's when they probably should've stopped.
But the hall was pitch-dark. The screams were terrifying. Jangxia was… Jangxia.
In the end, only Conan dared move.
And even he could only manage to cling to Jangxia's leg like a pendant, completely useless when it came to stopping him from whaling on the guy.
…So the curator ended up in that state.
That said, things got resolved real fast.
When the police arrived, the curator rushed over like he'd seen a long-lost relative, sobbing and snotting everywhere as he tried to explain what happened.
Inspector Megure not only located the body, but also uncovered a stash of drugs hidden in the children's library.
Looking over the neatly wrapped combo of drug trafficking + murder + corpse concealment, then glancing at the calm Jangxia standing beside him, Megure felt a bizarre sense of déjà vu.
He chuckled and said, "Brother Jangxia, are you sure you're not possessed by Kudo?"
It was just a joke.
Or so he thought—until Jangxia glanced at him, snorted, and replied thoughtfully, "True. Lately I've been spacing out. There's always this voice whispering in my head, telling me to check out some location… and whenever I do, someone gets murdered."
Conan, who had been innocently dragged into the conversation, whipped his head around, shocked.
As Kudo Shinichi himself, he could guarantee he'd never been whispering creepy things into Jangxia's head. He was beginning to worry this guy had some kind of… spiritual complication.
…Also, Jangxia's behavior while beating up the curator had been completely unhinged. He'd even laughed softly mid-swing.
Conan had gotten goosebumps. Right then, he'd forgiven the other kids for not helping him stop Jangxia—heck, he had kind of wanted to run away, too.
Conan looked back and forth between Jangxia and Inspector Megure. There were cops here. Maybe he should file a report… Get Jangxia checked into a hospital or something. Megure's pale, spooked expression suggested he'd believe him.
Megure had been startled. He'd just meant it as a joke, but Jangxia's serious response caught him off guard.
As the air conditioner kicked in, a chilly breeze passed by.
In Megure's mind, an image formed—Kudo Shinichi, ghostly pale, perched on Jangxia's shoulder, breathing cold air down his neck.
He broke out in a cold sweat. "Wh-what?!"
"Nothing, just kidding," Jangxia said, putting away his serious expression and smiling politely. "The world is materialistic. There are no ghosts. Like I said—I came to return a book, not because I heard Kudo calling me."
Megure: "…"
He adjusted his hat stiffly. "Right, of course, just playing along, ha ha…"
Normally, as a cop, he wouldn't believe this kind of stuff.
…but for some reason, everything Jangxia said always sounded just convincing enough to believe.
Megure sighed, clutching his still-pounding heart.
This new guy—he might be quieter than Kudo, humbler than Kudo, and even more capable than Kudo—but something about him just felt off…
…
It was getting late, and the witnesses were, once again, just a bunch of kids.
Inspector Megure made sure the children were escorted home first, told them to rest up, and said they'd do official statements at the station later.
After sending off three blank-faced kids and one very conflicted little detective, Megure turned back to Jangxia.
He remembered that Jangxia actually liked giving statements, and figured he'd let the guy work overtime: "You—"
"I'll go with them." Jangxia had already strolled over to his motorcycle and picked up his helmet. "One of the kids lives near me, so we'll head back together."
The Junior Detective League, after all, had a solid case-magnet aura.
And the cases they stumbled into were often the good stuff—gruesome serial murders, the whole package.
Jangxia appreciated that kind of luck.
Maybe if he stuck with them, he could pick up another ghost.
Besides, the poor employee killed by the curator had probably been suffering under that guy for a while—when Jangxia beat the curator, the soul had practically collapsed in satisfaction.
So for now, there weren't any lingering spirits waiting for Jangxia at the police station. No need to stick around for the paperwork.
…
The kids still had class, so the schedule got shuffled a bit.
On the day they were supposed to visit the police station, Jangxia changed his clothes, took a slight detour, and dropped by the Mouri Detective Agency.
Conan and the three kids were already downstairs, waiting.
When they saw Jangxia approaching, they immediately stood up straight, holding their umbrellas at attention.
Jangxia looked at them and had the odd feeling someone was about to shout, "Hello, boss!"
The Junior Detective League stood stiffly, peeking up at him from the corners of their eyes.
Sure, they could be a handful sometimes, but they were still just first graders. The most they ever fought was a couple punches or kicks before the teacher pulled them apart.
This had been their first time seeing someone like Jangxia nearly beat a guy to death.
And Conan, worried they were too traumatized, had tried to reassure them afterward: "Don't worry, Jangxia only hits bad people."
The bear children processed this and quickly concluded: Jangxia mustn't think of us as bad people.
So now, they were determined to be good, well-behaved little kids. Harmless. Like flowers.
As Jangxia parked next to them, all three greeted him in unison: "Good morning!"
Jangxia nodded. "Morning."
He thought, pleased, When bear children aren't being bear children… they're actually not bad at all.
Their voices had been so loud that, up on the second floor of the Mouri Detective Agency, two heads immediately popped out to see what was going on.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 16/60(approx)*
Glossary:
Bear child – A mischievous or unruly child, often used affectionately or humorously.