No matter what, as a good subordinate, he had to report anything worth reporting immediately.
Hashimoto Maya grasped his phone. But the venue was pitch-black, and the moment he pressed the unlock button, the screen lit up conspicuously. The foreign old man beside him also quietly cast a glance over.
Hashimoto Maya, whose screen was being Peeped at: "..."
Damn it, did these FBI agents have no manners? They were actually Peeping!
He had no choice but to tuck his phone into the pocket on his other side, then felt for the button and tried to open his Mailbox and type a message blind.
In the seat diagonally across from him.
Conan held his breath as he watched Hashimoto Maya, immediately spotting the faint glow coming from the other man's pocket.
Conan's expression shifted slightly. "..." Was this man secretly sending messages behind the back of his trading partner? Had something gone wrong with the deal? Had they failed to reach an agreement, or were they planning some shameless double-cross?
...Damn it! This was getting more and more intriguing. He had to find a way to sneak over and take a look.
Meanwhile, beside Hashimoto Maya, James was also rubbing the phone in his pocket, torn with indecision.
James: "..." As a tightly organized agency with many years of history and experience, the FBI naturally had countless methods of communication internally, as well as certain established conventions.
For example, before this operation, he and Akai Shuichi had discussed emergency code signals for situations such as "encountering Uzo," "encountering someone related to Uzo," and "identity exposed."
Compared with complicated typing, just a few simple symbols could convey the situation. But the problem was...
"I've only just entered the venue. I haven't even warmed my seat, and I already have to