This guy Thomas was full of confidence, juggling tasks as he scrolled through his phone while chatting with Liu A'dou. "Did you know? The Black Swan's Tear has already been returned to the vault at the Central Bank. I knew Kaitou Kid wasn't just some ordinary thief—he had to return it eventually. Gordon just refuses to admit it. The news came from the owners."
Gordon was trying to keep Kid's influence from growing. Kaitou Kid's flashy style was exactly the kind that young people loved to imitate—cool, stylish, and always in the spotlight. Gordon was worried that if people kept chasing after Kid, his heists would start drawing crowds, making it way harder for the police to catch him.
The charity exhibition had been postponed because of Kid, but that painting had been authenticated as a masterpiece and bought by a wealthy collector. The government quietly funneled the proceeds into orphanage aid funds. Naturally, that part wasn't made public.
In this world, whether it was TV or newspapers, news had a massive audience. The advantage of TV was speed—you'd see breaking stories almost as they happened. But newspapers had respected columnists, and a good journalist was often a talented writer too. They'd offer insightful commentary alongside the facts. Plus, newspaper reporters had a shot at winning the Pulitzer Prize—the highest honor in journalism.
"So, what are we covering today?" Liu A'dou asked casually as he drove.
"Exclusive news, of course," Thomas replied. "Got a tip—Bruce Wayne's gonna show up at a board meeting in secret today."
That's considered exclusive? Liu A'dou, still new to the game, didn't get it.
"It's not all about Batman fighting villains," Thomas explained. "Bruce Wayne attending a board meeting isn't just some boring business thing. Depending on how this plays out, it could shake the stock market."
"So, it's like financial news?" Liu A'dou asked.
"Depends on how you frame it. Could be finance, could be entertainment, could be current affairs," Thomas said confidently—he specialized in current affairs, and that's how he was going to spin it.
Liu A'dou had to admit, he was impressed. He'd only been in the field a short time, and since he was just a cameraman, he didn't know much about reporting. Iselin was new too, and she'd been learning as she went—she hadn't had much to teach him either. Come to think of it, hadn't he basically trained Iselin himself? A cameraman teaching a reporter—what a joke.
Channel 1 really was on another level, and this Thomas guy was a seasoned pro.
"How long have you been reporting, Thomas?"
"Me?" Thomas paused for a second. "A long time. Dropped out of high school in my teens, started freelancing, did a few years of online reporting, then joined Channel 1 about three years ago."
So this thirty-something guy had already been grinding it out in the industry for over a decade.
Today, Bruce's appearance at the board meeting was supposed to be hush-hush, so getting footage of him would be a real test of Liu A'dou's camera skills.
They parked the van a block away and walked toward Wayne Tower. The skyscraper had stood tall since Bruce Wayne's father built it, marking the Wayne family's power over Gotham.
"You can't sneak in with a camera. Wait by the parking garage—Bruce Wayne's car will be the flashiest one there. Just get the shot. I'll try to get inside and catch him in the open."
"Got it." Liu A'dou was confident he could nail that part.
Bruce Wayne's car wasn't exactly subtle. The roar of its engine echoed through downtown—like he wanted everyone to know he'd arrived.
It was a beautiful machine, tearing through the city without a care. Liu A'dou raised his camera, quick on the draw, and caught the sleek sports car speeding into the garage.
"Rich bastard," Liu A'dou muttered, half-jealous. Seeing that car made him think of Batman's gear—the Batmobile, Batcycle, Batplane, Batboat, even satellites and space stations. Rich people could do whatever they wanted. One day, he thought, he'd love to sneak into the Batcave and swipe something.
Sure, Liu A'dou always returned the gems, but a thief was still a thief. The cash he used for his tools came from stolen money—mob cash, dirty money from corrupt officials. He never felt guilty about it. As for why he returned the gems? One, it boosted his reputation. Two, gems were hard to sell. To be honest, he preferred stealing cash.
His first job with Thomas had gone smoothly. Liu A'dou got a clear shot of Bruce Wayne's car—even the license plate. Thomas got his part done too, though he didn't breathe a word about what news he'd uncovered.
The next few days up until the break, Thomas took Liu A'dou around chasing stories, and A'dou really did learn a lot from him.
Then came another holiday, and Liu A'dou personally made a trip to visit Iselin at her home.
Iselin owned several properties, but she lived alone in a high-rise apartment in the city center. The building was home to elite professionals and small-time millionaires, so it was clear that her family's underworld business was doing quite well.
He buzzed the intercom downstairs and heard Iselin's tired voice, "Who is it?"
"Iselin, it's me, Liu A'dou. Can I come up?"
The door clicked open. Iselin lived on the twenty-first floor, and even taking the elevator up took a while. Liu A'dou could tell she wasn't doing well—hopefully she still had the energy to work.
When he got to the twenty-first floor, he found that her front door wasn't even locked. He figured she must've left it open because she knew he was coming. Fine, at least he didn't need to ring again. "Anyone home? I'm coming in."
Messy. Really messy. Iselin hadn't cleaned in a while. The moment he stepped inside, a sour smell hit him. Beer cans were scattered everywhere, from the entrance to the living room—who knew how much she had drunk?
"Iselin, you here?" Liu A'dou tiptoed through the trash, trying not to step on anything. "Iselin?"
Thud—there was a dull sound.
He heard something heavy fall in the next room and rushed over, only to find Iselin, still in her pajamas, collapsed headfirst into her closet. Her underwear was strewn across the floor. She was half-dressed, clearly trying to change when she fainted after opening the door for him.
Such a beautiful woman, reduced to this. Her face was pale as plaster.
He laid her flat on the bed and checked her pulse, sighing in relief. She'd just fainted from hunger. Looked like she'd been drinking nonstop without eating anything for days.
In the kitchen, the fridge had nothing but eggs—every other space stuffed with beer. Who knew how much she'd bought? Well, he'd make her some poached eggs with sugar, the simplest dish he knew. Hopefully she'd be able to stomach it.
Poached eggs—just crack the eggs into boiling water and add sugar. Simple. Taste-wise, Liu A'dou liked egg whites more, egg yolks were too dry. He didn't like hard-boiled yolks either, for the same reason.
The food was ready, but Iselin still hadn't woken up, so Liu A'dou left the eggs and got to cleaning. This place was too filthy—living in it long-term would mess up her lungs. He cleaned and cleaned, filling several trash bags with garbage.
Not exactly what you'd expect from such a beautiful woman. If Thomas saw this, he'd probably be heartbroken. On the outside, she was clean and graceful, but inside, her home was a disaster. Honestly, Liu A'dou felt like he was seeing a whole new side of Iselin.
She slept soundly, and with the place cleaner, her breathing got easier, more relaxed, like her airways had opened up. No more of that strange feeling in her chest.
Her head still felt a bit fuzzy, but way better than before. Most of the alcohol had worn off—just one problem: she was starving. That hunger woke her up.
Barefoot on the carpet, she immediately sensed something was different. The place felt clean. She remembered she'd fired her cleaning service.
She walked into the living room and saw the trash was all gone. Someone was vacuuming.
"Liu?" Right, she did remember opening the door for him, then trying to change clothes… and the rest was a blur.
Change clothes? She looked down—still in her skimpy pajamas—and blushed furiously, darting back into her bedroom. The pajamas barely covered her thighs, the neckline plunging low. She bought it to feel comfy at home, not for guests.
"What are you embarrassed about? I already saw everything," Liu A'dou teased. He'd been the one to pull off the half-worn clothes and let her sleep properly. After spending so much time with her, he realized that despite her tough exterior, Iselin was soft at heart—kind of cute, really.
Though there was a six-year age gap between them. When Liu A'dou crossed over, he was only seventeen. Now, a year later, he was eighteen. Iselin, a college graduate with a job, was twenty-four. But since Liu A'dou had helped her learn the ropes at work, that age difference never really showed.
Physically, they might be years apart, but mentally? Liu A'dou was way more mature. After all, he was a transmigrator, and he'd spent seventeen years plus 240 months in the world of detectives. His body might look seventeen, but inside, he was an old soul. "There's only one truth!" (In true Conan style.)
But honestly, Liu A'dou was being a bit too optimistic. He thought he'd dodged the "never grow up" curse after crossing over, but if it were that easy, fans of Detective Conan wouldn't be so frustrated. What he didn't know was that even after a year, his body was still stuck at seventeen, unchanged. The fans' eternal wish for the young detective had now bound him too.