"Braille?"
Repeating the detective's words, Ryusuke Soma looked at the board on the floor, his expression somewhat blank.
Not only had Taku Itakura borrowed three kinds of game boards from the hotel for the project, but for the convenience of working things out—perhaps simply to set the scene and create an atmosphere—he had formally arranged each board in its place.
Go, with its strong atmosphere of two players kneeling across from each other, naturally had a cushion placed beneath it on the floor.
Naturally, it had become Beika Town's essential skill—the casting ground for dying words—and Itakura had left a message there.
His heart had been aching faintly, his chest tight and breath short. He had been on the verge of death, severely nearsighted, practically half-blind with worse eyesight than a cat's. With so many limitations, Taku Itakura had still forced himself to arrange such a complex message with his feet. It had to be said, he was a man of tremendous willpower.
The only flaw was that if he had put that perseverance into meeting his deadlines earlier, perhaps things would never have escalated to someone using his life to pressure him for manuscripts.
Of course, that might also have cost him this chance to display his willpower. You could not have it both ways.
Incidentally, Tangze had not done it. Even when he kicked Taku Itakura, he had deliberately avoided this area so as not to disturb the authenticity of the dying message.
"You didn't expect Mr. Itakura, who could no longer move, to leave behind such a message, did you?" Conan countered, sinking deeper into the corner formed by the chair and the bed. "He must have guessed that you would definitely bring the other two collaborators with you, and that you wouldn't come alone to be