"Miss Mouri, Miss Suzuki." Tangze turned around and smiled at the two friends he knew all too well. "Long time no see. Are you here to clean up for Kudo-kun next door again?"
Tangze had naturally switched into Joker's everyday outfit: white hair, red eyes, an oversized black graffiti jacket, and a collection of jangling trendy accessories. He looked like he played in a band.
Compared to his own usual style, it was not merely somewhat different—it was worlds apart.
As for why he had suddenly thought to pull out this identity and arrange a chance encounter, naturally, Tangze had seen how hard Conan was wracking his brains and come to raise the difficulty of the test for him.
Judging from the buff Conan had put on him, the boy had finally crossed the barriers of information asymmetry and glimpsed a trace of Tangze's concealed nature.
Sure, narrowly escaping danger every now and then could be attributed to good luck. But constantly ending up in danger, only to be repeatedly rescued for one reason or another, seemed a little too deliberate.
Conan had never been suspicious of this in the past, mainly because, as someone blessed with protagonist luck, he had lived much the same way himself. But after Tangze absorbed the danger onto himself and Conan's group became safer instead, asking Conan not to think too hard about it would be asking too much.
Tangze, who had expected this long ago, remained quite composed.
What was coming would come. Before he was completely exposed, he might as well keep the music playing and keep dancing while there was still fun to be had.
"We wouldn't clean ourselves anymore. Something that troublesome, once was enough." Remembering the last time, Ran Mouri could not help curling her toes in embarrassment. "Now