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Fujihara Toru parked his Porsche Panamera by the roadside.
Leaning back against the headrest, he held his phone and spoke calmly. "Send the detailed information to my email."
"The internet poses risks of exposure. Let's stick to the phone," came the voice of CIA Director Spencer.
As one of the most surveilled organizations in the world, the CIA was unmatched in anti-eavesdropping technology. Thus, a phone call was ironically safer than relying on digital communication. The internet, no matter how secure, always carried the risk of vulnerabilities. Truly classified information was never connected to external networks—if it touched the web, it could be compromised.
"This intel comes from our mole within the organization. Based on their movements, she identified the location of this research facility."
"According to the mole's report, internal turmoil arose due to an incident involving the family of a key researcher involved in the drug development—this exposed a crack in their operations."
Toru's expression remained calm, but inwardly, he sneered.
He knew exactly who Spencer was referring to as the "mole." It had to be Ai Haibara, codenamed Sherry, or rather, her CIA alias, Rena Mizunashi.
Spencer had previously claimed that Mizunashi would now report directly to Toru, yet here he was still allowing her to communicate with him independently. Trust? Hardly.
Though Toru kept these thoughts to himself, maintaining a composed tone and demeanor. For now, there wasn't much he could do about Spencer. The man was still the CIA Director, and all of Toru's connections in America stemmed from him. He would have to bide his time and wait for the right moment to act.
Toru proceeded to inquire about mission specifics.
Spencer provided an address: "There's a research institute under Kobayashi Pharmaceuticals located here."
"That's your target. Clear out the facility and retrieve its data."
"I'll arrange personnel for you—not CIA agents, but elite mercenaries from NATO. They're seasoned professionals, accustomed to these kinds of cleanup operations."
"But I don't trust them. I only trust you. You'll lead the operation to ensure we get what I need."
"Remember, don't expose yourself. I still need to maintain cooperation with that organization for now—I'm not ready to break our agreement just yet."
Pretending to be moved, Toru replied, "Understood. I'll complete the mission."
If someone were truly brainwashed, they might feel immense gratitude at being told, "I only trust you." But Toru wasn't fooled. He inwardly scoffed while outwardly feigning excitement and loyalty.
"Boss, aside from manpower, I'll need additional support."
"What else do you require? Tell me directly."
"Prepare an Apache attack helicopter for me."
"An Apache? What do you need that for?" Spencer asked, stunned.
Wait—this isn't some large-scale military operation or terror attack. This is just a research institute. Are you planning to bomb Tokyo Tower or the Imperial Palace?
"The organization has plenty of desperate individuals at their disposal. They might also hire retired special forces or ex-military personnel from other countries."
"Given the importance of this facility, who knows how strong its security measures are? The only thing we can confirm is that there likely won't be heavy firepower on-site."
"If you provide me with an Apache, regardless of their setup, I guarantee success."
Toru's words reminded Spencer of the significance of the facility. As the CIA, thorough preparation was essential when pursuing something so critical.
Spencer nodded decisively. "Alright, I'll contact the military. I'll have the U.S. forces stationed in Japan prepare one for you."
Spencer's background in the military ensured deep connections, whether with the Pacific Fleet Commander or the commander of U.S. forces in Japan. And as for whether Toru could operate the Apache, Spencer harbored no doubts. During his training in Hawaii, Toru had mastered not only helicopters but even piloted F-35s and practiced carrier takeoffs and landings!
After hanging up, Toru tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel.
There was no way he'd hand over APTX4869—or its research data—to the CIA. The drug was a Pandora's Box, capable of shrinking people and potentially granting immortality.
"I wonder if cellular shrinkage damages mitochondria or affects lifespan… That remains unknown for now."
"But this terrifying creation must remain under my control. If it ever reaches stable development, the possibilities it unlocks are limitless."
Death was the great equalizer for humanity. If someone could evade death entirely, it would drive countless people mad with desire.
Toru needed a plan to deceive Spencer and the CIA. Allowing the drug to fall into the hands of the CIA, backed by America's vast resources, might accelerate its development. Success was acceptable—but only under his own supervision.
"Did I forget something?"
Thinking carefully, Toru realized what it was—he had encountered Conan Edogawa earlier, yet no murder cases had occurred.
"How fortunate, how fortunate indeed."
Chuckling softly, Toru started the car and headed home. Later that night, he planned to go for a run and deliver food to a certain ghost.
In Toru's eyes, Kayako Saeki represented true terror.
Suburbs of Tokyo – Research Institute Under Kobayashi Pharmaceuticals
Dressed in a white lab coat over a fitted red wool sweater, Miyano Shiho—codenamed Sherry—appeared lifeless, her face pale and devoid of vitality. She was dragged by the arms and mercilessly thrown into a chamber resembling a gas chamber.