In short, although criminals and detectives were natural enemies, they were now firmly tied to the same plane that was about to crash. Jiang Xia had even kindly taken over the exceptionally dangerous job of "flying the plane" from the Organization member. At that moment, Hashimoto Maya unexpectedly gained a bit more appreciation for the detective.
Meanwhile, another outlaw knew nothing of the mutual sympathy between criminals.
Kaito Kuroba left the cockpit and glanced back. Once he confirmed no one was nearby, he raised a hand and felt around the cuff Jiang Xia had touched earlier.
Perhaps because he had spent years knocking people out, this detective's hands were no slower than a Magician's—at the instant Jiang Xia stopped him, he seemed to have slipped something into his sleeve.
Kaito Kuroba quickly found it. It was a mist-like thin sheet, folded together like an incredibly lightweight piece of felt.
The moment he took it out, it gradually fluffed up and swiftly expanded into a cloud of Smoke, lightly cradled in his palm.
Kaito Kuroba froze. "What the hell is this?"
Judging by its shape and color, it resembled the Smoke drifting from a burning cigarette. But amazingly, this cloud of Smoke could actually be touched, and it stayed tightly gathered instead of dispersing.
"Forget it, business first." Kaito Kuroba was full of questions, but he had no time to return to the cockpit and ask. He folded the thing up and tucked it back into his sleeve, then hurried to the cabin door, pressed the open button, and shoved it wide open.
With a thunderous boom, the battered cabin door, already damaged by the collision, was suddenly swept away by the wind. A violent gust rushed in, and the plane jolted slightly.
Kaito Kuroba tore off his disguise in one