Playing Hooky Is Great

Tangze pressed himself against the wall at the corner and cautiously peered out at the road before the Maru family residence.

Neat rows of gray shadows lined both sides of the street. They lay silently on the ground, bowing toward the palanquin being carried down the middle of the road by several shadows.

Shadows were monsters that existed in the Cognitive World. Ordinary shadows were drawn by the Palace owner's desires and manifested some of the owner's perceptions and consciousness. Special shadows—such as those belonging to a Palace owner like Maru Denjirou—were concrete manifestations of his twisted personality, reflecting his true heart and character.

In Conan's world, there was no shortage of morally bankrupt killers and victims. Tangze figured that the Cognitive World alone gave him plenty of room to maneuver.

The shadows kneeling all over the ground before him, along with the samurai carrying the palanquin, were how Maru Denjirou saw other people.

The palanquin's exquisite gilded decorations glittered brilliantly. In that old man's eyes, he was probably some great feudal lord—a shogun or something.

Ugly as sin, but dreaming big.

Tangze shook his head. Rather than enter that street, he followed the road along the outer perimeter of the Maru family estate, searching for an opening.

Maru Denjirou's Shadow was definitely inside that palanquin. Too bad Tangze had yet to awaken his power; otherwise, he could have considered kicking the door down and taking him out head-on.

...Come to think of it, if things followed the original setting, wouldn't he have to be driven into a desperate situation and emotionally worked up before he could awaken his abilities?

As Tangze thought, his footsteps grew lighter.

The more he considered it, the more it felt like a trap. He would awaken his abilities eventually if the plot played out as it should, so he had better be careful.

The Maru family residence, transformed into a daimyo's manor, was now resplendent with carved beams and painted rafters. Samurai shadows patrolled in groups of two or three. Only after circling around to the rear side of the estate did Tangze find a suitable place to climb over the wall.

As the previous group of samurai turned around and headed back, Tangze crept up to the courtyard wall, grabbed the roof tiles, and climbed up.

He had no idea how many guards were inside, so Tangze did not recklessly vault over the wall and drop down. Instead, he climbed onto the nearest rooftop, crouched as he made his way to the highest ridge, and carefully poked his head out.

His caution was justified. The entire courtyard had wide-open sightlines and almost no cover. Shadows stood before every doorway in the residence, and there were even archer units positioned high up on the main house, watching the courtyard vigilantly and guarding it without a single gap.

If he had boldly climbed straight in, he would have been caught on the spot by now.

Why could such a tiny courtyard fit so many Shadows?! What, did this think it was Sekiro?

Complaining inwardly aside, Tangze honestly acted as though he were playing a stealth game, keeping low as he edged across the rooftop toward the main house.

Twenty minutes later, Tangze successfully reached the main house's roof. Picking a suitable angle, he stretched his head out to look into the courtyard before the building.

Thank goodness this was Japan. Even for a daimyo's manor, there were only two courtyards.

If he had to climb through the Forbidden City, he would not finish even by tomorrow night.

This building had the tightest security. There were sentries at the entrance and ranged archers in the front pavilion. This was most likely where the Palace kept its Treasure—the thing the Palace owner valued most, and the origin of his desire.

Was Maru Denjirou just that weak? How had he found the core location in less than an hour?

Tangze pondered this, utterly unaware that he had used his stealth experience to skip the entire Palace.

Still, easy to find was a good thing. Conan's world was not like P5; it would not give him ample time to clear a Palace. For all he knew, Maru Denjirou might call Mori Kogoro over tomorrow in a fit of despair, then kill him. That would be awkward.

Thinking about it that way, not having awakened his abilities was not important for the moment. If he was not taking the kick-the-door-down route, then all he needed to do was go out and send a calling card. Tomorrow, he could sneak back in and find a way to steal the item. That would still accomplish his goal.

It was better if he did not need to brute-force it. A phantom thief who kicked doors down was not authentic!

Some sort of entertainment seemed to be in preparation before the main house. Tables and carpets had been set out in the courtyard, while samurai shadows continuously carried trays in and out, arranging them one by one atop the tables.

Tangze focused his eyes and saw that the trays were filled with gold, silver, and valuables. Stacks of banknotes had been piled into neat triangles, while gold dust and pearls were heaped into little hills, dazzling the eye at a glance.

Such ostentation from a loan shark was perfectly in character.

Just as Tangze examined the building's structure from side to side, assessing a suitable route for the theft, the samurai below all turned toward the entrance and bowed.

Tangze immediately pulled his head back, pressing tightly against the side wall and peering out with only one eye.

Maru Denjirou had returned.

This was Tangze's first time seeing the Palace owner's true form. Maru Denjirou, well past fifty, wore an ornate Nara ceremonial robe patterned with family crests and a formal crown. Surrounded by samurai, he swaggered through the entrance.

He sat down behind the table, picked up a few jewels from the glittering gold cups and plates to toy with, and casually called out, "Where are the new servants? Bring them all up."

The kneeling samurai answered with a thunderous assent. Soon, several shackled people were linked together by chains and dragged in, stumbling.

These people were not Shadows. Their features were all distinct.

Tangze recognized the man he had bumped into that afternoon among them. His long, narrow face and thin mustache were easy to identify.

It seemed they were all borrowers indebted to Maru Denjirou.

They were not real people, but cognitive beings produced within the Palace due to the owner's perceptions—NPCs molded after people from reality, capable of reflecting what the Palace owner thought of them.

In Maru Denjirou's eyes, anyone who owed him money was clearly his prisoner and slave.

The people were dragged to their knees before the tables. Samurai shadows holding trays stood beside the figures sprawled across the ground, waiting for Maru Denjirou to inspect them one by one.

Maru Denjirou strolled over to the first tray, picked up the necklace on it, and tossed it lightly in his hand. With a contemptuous sneer, he said, "Too light. At your age, this is all you can put up as collateral? Trash like you is a waste of society's resources. Cut off his hands as punishment."

After saying that, he slipped the necklace directly into his sleeve. He kicked away the old man struggling frantically beside him, and a samurai immediately swung his blade at the old man's hands.

Against the backdrop of the old man's shrill screams, Maru Denjirou leisurely moved on to the next person.

"A worthless trinket. Are you blind? You want to use this as collateral for one million yen? I don't think you need those eyes at all!"

"Hah? Bringing this garbage to fool me—are you trying to toy with me? You, cut off his head and put it on the tray. His life can serve as collateral!"

"A broken sword, and you still call it a family heirloom? You really are a destitute lowborn. I'll sell the sword as your interest payment."

The once pristine courtyard quickly became a blood-drenched execution ground. Some victims lay on the ground without a sound, while others clutched their severed limbs and rolled around in agony. The sight was deeply unsettling.

"What a picture of hell... Can a loan shark's heart really be this bloody?" Tangze knew these were not real humans, merely puppets fabricated from the Palace owner's memories, but the brutal scene still made him frown deeply.

Maru Denjirou ought to have been a wealthy man with a substantial fortune by now. It seemed that these crude methods of seizing collateral were not merely for accumulating wealth. More likely, he wanted to watch people struggle in pain, kneeling before him and begging for mercy.

What an old pervert. No wonder he could create a Palace.

"Can't find a single valuable piece of collateral. Are all cops such poor trash?" Maru Denjirou spat another insult. Tangze looked toward the person before him, and his heart clenched.

A tall man in a police uniform sat on the ground in a miserable state. The samurai shadow beside him held no tray; instead, it gripped a little girl who had been tightly bound.

The man who had been shoved around wore shackles on both hands. After struggling several times, he still could not sit up. One of his pant legs hung empty.

"Fine. Since your daughter is pretty, I'll reluctantly take her." In Maru Denjirou's tone, the little girl was clearly this man's collateral. "You're already a worthless cripple who can't even stand, so I'll grant your wish. Cut off his other leg too."

Tangze's temple twitched as he dug his fingers hard into the roof tile beside him.