"No! It was me!"
Just as Fujino was about to restrain Mrs. Yamada, Akio Yamada cried out from inside the cage.
"I killed Father! Please, don't hurt my mother anymore!"
"Akio! What are you saying?!" Mrs. Yamada froze, turning to her son, her voice laced with desperation.
"Don't be foolish! Just a little longer, and the statute of limitations will be up!"
"I don't want to live like this anymore!" Akio sobbed, kneeling on the floor of his cage, his face buried in his hands.
"I can't bear to see you hurt because of me, Mom!"
"Akio..." Mrs. Yamada crumpled, the fight draining out of her. She sank to her knees outside the cage, defeated.
Fujino let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. That was close. The glint of the knife had been a little too close for comfort. He suddenly felt a strange pang of guilt, like he was the villain in this scenario.
He cleared his throat, dispelling the awkward silence.
"Don't you understand what your son is trying to tell you?" he addressed Mrs. Yamada gently.
"You stay out of this!" She whirled around, her eyes blazing.
"I'm just trying to protect him! I can't let him throw his life away in prison!"
Fujino winced. Okay, maybe the gentle approach wasn't working. He took a different tack.
"Is keeping him locked in a dark, damp cage, tormented by guilt every single day... really protecting him? Don't you think your 'protection' is far more cruel than any prison sentence?"
"No! That's not true! It's not like that!"
Mrs. Yamada broke down completely, clutching her head and sobbing uncontrollably.
"I understand you want to help him..." Fujino said softly, his voice laced with sympathy.
"But this... this Wicked kind of love isn't protecting him. It's only binding him, hurting him more than you realize."
"I..." Mrs. Yamada choked, unable to speak. She looked at her son, his face haggard and drawn, and fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.
As the sun set, casting long shadows across the city, Fujino escorted the Yamadas to the police station. It was nightfall, but after five years in hiding, mother and son were finally stepping back into the light.
Back at his apartment, Fujino pushed open the door to his spacious, if somewhat empty, hundred-square-meter flat.
Moonlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the sparsely furnished rooms. A massive, almost comically large, hundred-inch plasma TV dominated one wall, adding to the sense of lonely vastness.
"I'm home," he muttered to himself out of habit, then collapsed onto his bed, exhausted, relishing the familiar solitude.
[Congratulations Host! Haunted House Murder Task Complete! Detective Reputation +50]
[Rewards Distributed: 500,000 Yen Bounty credited. System Starter Gear Pack added to Inventory.]
The system notifications jolted him back to awareness. Fujino sat up, rubbing his eyes.
With a thought, he opened his system inventory.
A grid of squares appeared, filled with a variety of icons representing different items.
The system inventory wasn't some magical bottomless bag. It was more like a one-way storage unit. You could take stuff out, but you couldn't put anything back in.
Fujino scanned the inventory, his gaze drawn to a brightly wrapped gift box icon.
[System Starter Gear Pack: Contains one random piece of starter equipment. Guaranteed Blue rarity.]
He tapped the icon, opening the pack.
A bright light flashed from the virtual box.
After a brief, surprisingly realistic animation sequence, a simple wooden sword, glowing with a faint blue aura, materialized in his hand.
"A bokken?" Fujino raised an eyebrow, surprised.
As his fingers brushed against the smooth wood, the item's details appeared on the system screen:
[Okamoto Momoka 0.01: A bokken crafted from black peach wood, blessed by a renowned master. While made of wood, it possesses incredible durability.
Form: A black, 1.2-meter wooden sword. Normally exists as a miniature pendant but reverts to full size when wielded.
Abilities: Indestructible, though its damage potential is limited. While it cannot inflict physical injury, it can cause significant pain and temporarily replicate some negative effects of injury (e.g., pain, stiffness, reduced mobility). In the hands of a skilled swordsman, it could potentially knock someone unconscious.]*
Fujino hefted the bokken, swinging it experimentally a few times. It was surprisingly light, easy to wield even with his unaugmented strength.
The texture, though, was strange. It didn't feel like wood at all. More like polished steel...
He swung it again, a little harder this time. The whoosh of air narrowly missed the giant plasma TV. Whoa, okay, maybe a little too easy to wield. He quickly dismissed it back into its pendant form.
The Okamoto Momoka 0.01 shrunk down to the size of his thumb, complete with a conveniently attached red braided cord, and landed neatly in his palm.
"Looks like I'm celebrating my zodiac year early," Fujino muttered dryly, threading the cord and putting the pendant around his neck.
Grumble!
His stomach chose that exact moment to interrupt his thoughts with a loud growl.
He'd completely forgotten to eat. Not a single bite since waking up.
Food first. Everything else can wait.
Fujino rummaged through his newly acquired system inventory, pulling out a packet of the "Instant Ramen (Fills You Up Instantly)." He fired up the gas stove and boiled some water.
A few minutes later, a steaming bowl of plain-looking instant ramen sat on his table.
"Can this stuff really fill me up?" he wondered skeptically.
One slurp later, Fujino revised his opinion.
It wasn't exactly gourmet cuisine—tasted like every other cheap instant ramen—but it was incredibly filling.
Just one bowl, and he felt completely satiated, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time.
"How does the system even make this stuff? It's not scientifically possible..."
Then again, he thought, I have a literal System in my head now. Screw science. This wasn't scientific. This wasn't even remotely Conan-logical. This was pure, unadulterated anime bullshit.
Full and content, Fujino stretched languidly, gazing out the window at the bustling street below, his mind drifting.
Yeah, I'm starting to get the hang of this world… even the time-bending, where today's the 5th but tomorrow could be the 20th. Classic Conan time dilation.
Only downside is this body's kind of a wreck from overwork.
Earlier that day, after overdoing it a bit in gym class—still adjusting to having a younger body, apparently—he'd blacked out and ended up in the nurse's office. When he woke up, the fiery Hiratsuka-sensei had cornered him with a barrage of concerned but totally misguided questions about his health and well-being. He'd managed to deflect them, though.
"Dad! You've been drinking again?!"
A girl's exasperated voice suddenly echoed from across the street. It was followed by a mournful sigh.
"If you weren't like this, you'd have clients! Mom wouldn't keep running away..."
"Wait, Ran, let me explain—augh!"
The familiar sounds of a certain perpetually-drunk detective's yelps and cries echoed through the neighborhood.
From his balcony, Fujino watched the commotion unfolding at the Mouri Detective Agency across the street. He chuckled softly.
"Another day, another domestic squabble at the Mouris. Peak Beika Town."