"Mr. Lin, this is the contract our publishing house has carefully reviewed and finalized. Please take a look."
A contract file was handed to him with both hands.
Hayaki Lin reached out, his long, elegant fingers pressing lightly against the edge of the document. After skimming it briefly, he casually passed it to the woman beside him.
Eri Kisaki was a sharp, competent woman.
With her refined features, she took the contract without a word and quietly began to review it.
The editor across from them, Nanaho Asamiya, simply smiled and waited patiently—she was confident in the terms their publishing house was offering.
And as Eri finished reading through the document, she couldn't help but nod in approval.
The terms were surprisingly generous, and there weren't any exploitative clauses. Overall, the sincerity was clear.
"There's nothing wrong with this contract. Honestly, it's rare to see something so clean-cut in business these days."
Eri looked a little surprised as she glanced up at the editor. "Even for a hit novel, this kind of contract is usually reserved for top-tier best-selling authors."
"Well, that's partly because our publishing house is extremely confident in Mr. Lin's work," Nanaho replied with a soft chuckle. "And partly because our editor-in-chief and president were both thoroughly charmed by Mr. Lin's previous writing. They insisted on these terms."
Of course, that wasn't entirely true.
While the deeper reasons remained unknown for now, Hayaki Lin merely accepted it with gratitude. Setting down his coffee cup, he offered a smile.
"That's truly an honor."
Nanaho felt a little dazzled.
The young man before her was almost unreasonably handsome.
With soft, jet-black hair and impossibly delicate features, his faint smile and clear voice gave off an air of tranquil elegance. The atmosphere around him was quietly composed and surreal.
Anyone meeting him for the first time would likely come away thinking he was a calm, kind young man.
"Ahem… so, Mr. Lin, are you satisfied with the contract? Or is there anything you'd like me to convey back to the team?"
"No, this is fine. I'm very pleased."
"In that case, about signing—?"
"Please lend me a pen."
"Of course."
Nanaho quickly handed over a fountain pen.
Under her guidance and Eri's gaze, Hayaki signed his name, officially granting the publishing house the rights to represent his new work.
With her task complete, the editor politely excused herself.
The booth was now left with just Hayaki and Eri.
"Congratulations, Hayaki," she said with a warm smile, her mature beauty glowing. "That's a fantastic contract."
"Yeah… and thanks for coming with me today, Aunt Eri."
"I had to make time for something this important."
She glanced at the watch on her wrist. Seeing the time, she picked up her purse.
"But I need to head to the office now. If you need anything, just call me, okay?"
"Got it. Another late night?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I've got a case going to trial soon… though it shouldn't be too late."
"Understood. Drive safe, then."
"See you later."
With that, Eri quickly walked off.
Watching her start up her Mini Cooper and drive away, Hayaki didn't linger in the café. After waiting a few moments on the street, he raised a hand and hailed a taxi.
"Please take me to Beika Second Apartments."
"Got it."
Click.
The door closed with a soft sound, and the cab headed toward its destination.
It was a cool spring afternoon in March.
Inside the gently moving taxi, the radio was playing a new single from the current pop idol, Yoko Okino.
Street scenes blurred past the window—middle-aged men in a hurry, young couples walking arm in arm, the blaring of horns the moment the light turned green. Everything felt vibrant and real.
A world that was undeniably real—
Having spent over a year in this world, Hayaki had completely adapted to life here.
After all, there was no evidence this was a fictional universe.
Life—at its core—was nothing more than flesh, breath, and a heartbeat. Hayaki knew well that cutting open a vein wouldn't release ink, and no matter how far he ran, he wouldn't crash into a comic panel. With everything being this vivid and authentic, there was no room left for doubt.
His real name was Hayaki Lin.
Before inexplicably arriving in this world—a world that felt both familiar and foreign—he had lived a fairly successful life for over twenty years.
Naturally, he'd watched Detective Conan.
But after mysteriously appearing here, he found himself with an established identity, a familiar body, and memories and relationships that had somehow been added to his consciousness.
"Sir, are you in a hurry?" the cab driver asked. He had noticed his passenger glancing at his watch frequently.
"No, not at all," Hayaki replied. "But could you switch to the news station?"
"Sure thing."
The driver obliged without question.
The time was now 2:18 p.m.
The news station was replaying a segment from earlier that day. As it played, Hayaki subtly kept his eyes on his watch until the moment the second hand hit 2:21:30—
"According to a report from the Beika City Police Department, suspect Shigehiko Nishikawa suffered sudden cardiac arrest during his arrest on the night of March 16th. He was pronounced dead en route to the hospital."
"Inspector Megure confirmed that Nishikawa was involved in multiple violent crimes, including snatch theft, coercion, and loan sharking…"
The newscaster's voice was calm and clear, yet to Hayaki it sounded distant. He mentally checked each detail against his memory, and a small smile formed on his lips.
"Not a second off."
He celebrated silently.
"What a scumbag," the middle-aged driver muttered. "Glad he's gone. Serves him right."
The driver had probably long since moved past his righteous indignation days, but the news still made him feel good.
Hayaki, still smiling, nodded.
"Yeah. It's a relief."