The room was in complete disarray, as if it had just been hit by a hurricane. The trash can had been overturned onto the floor, its contents scattered everywhere. The flowerpot had been smashed, its soil dug through. The Wardrobe doors stood open, and all the clothes inside had had their pockets emptied before being tossed onto the floor. The drawers were open, and even the down pillow on the bed had been slashed several times with a Knife.
"How did this happen?" Suzuki Shiro tugged at his hair in confusion. He did not often encounter Murder Cases—he had seen Kid more times than he had seen murders—and it took him a few seconds to recover before he mused, "Did a murderer sneak onto the ship?"
By comparison, Conan looked far more experienced.
He rushed in and examined the body. "Time of death was roughly thirty minutes ago. It looks like he died from a gunshot to the right eye... This is a Murder Case. Call the police first!"
As soon as he finished speaking, something weighed down on his head. Jiang Xia suddenly patted him on the head as though in approval.
Conan turned to look at him in bafflement. After they met each other's eyes for a moment, he suddenly recalled how he had nearly given himself away in front of Mouri Ran earlier. Belatedly, he put on the innocent smile of a child. "Haha, Brother Jiang Xia, was I right?"
Jiang Xia nodded approvingly.
Then he stood up. "I'll go get my phone."
Far away, at the other end of the surveillance signal.
Vodka was still holding his coffee, sleepily watching the scene.
Murder Cases could no longer stir his interest. Wherever Uzo went, murders followed, and he had long since grown used to it.
Still,