Could This Blessing Be Any Greater?

Tangze had lacked any artistic sensibility for two lifetimes. He was practically immune to art museums.

He let Sonoko Suzuki drag him along, trailing step by step behind Ran Mouri as she focused on the exhibits. With a silent "Oh, I see, I understand now" smile.exe on his face, he went AFK.

Ran Mouri walked at the front, constantly marveling at the paintings and artworks, her eyes sparkling. It was clear that she genuinely loved them.

Tangze considered whether he should give her the fan Maru Denjirou had stolen later.

Once a treasure from the Palace returned to reality, it would not affect the real original item. However, its form would change somewhat. The inscription and painting on that folding fan had vanished, leaving it as a beautifully crafted, valuable blank gold fan.

It was not suitable for displaying openly, as that would only invite suspicion. Tangze had no interest in selling it either. If he did not give it away as a gift, it could only gather dust in his inventory.

The three high school students had clearly divided their roles: Ran Mouri viewed the exhibition, Tangze loafed around on autopilot, and Sonoko Suzuki watched Tangze. That left Conan, bored out of his mind, walking with his hands behind his back and yawning.

He simply picked up the visitor's guide that came with the ticket and began reading. This art exhibition was divided into four themed halls: Sky, Ocean, Earth, and Hell. The printed color pages included photos of several representative exhibits beneath each theme.

"Sonoko," Conan said, raising the leaflet and pointing at a thumbnail beneath the Hell Hall heading. "Is this the suit of armor you mentioned?"

After lifting the paper, his gaze dropped slightly, and he spotted a block of text at the edge of the page: "...It is with great regret that we announce the Beika Art Museum will officially close next month. Thank you all for your support over the years..."

"Ah, the Hell Hall. Just hearing the name makes it sound atmospheric." Sonoko Suzuki bent over to examine it, her eyes lighting up. She immediately grabbed Ran Mouri, who was standing in front of a display case. "Ran, let's go to that hall first! You can keep browsing afterward, okay?"

Her reason for coming to the museum was to create an atmosphere where Tangze could accompany her through a haunted house. It was like watching a horror movie with a guy—she could easily get close to him. She had to strike while the iron was hot!

Ran Mouri looked at Sonoko Suzuki's expectant expression, then glanced at the somewhat bewildered Tangze. She understood that Sonoko was probably planning to use another one of her "little tricks for picking up guys."

Knowing Sonoko's personality all too well, Ran Mouri could only indulge her. The four of them followed the arrows through the central corridor to the hall on the other side.

Tangze, who had not yet given up on interrupting the case, felt a faint sense of unease when he saw everyone heading toward the Hell Hall.

His plan had been to wait for the characters from the manga to make their entrances, then follow either the victim or the culprit. If he could not stop it psychologically, then he would stop it physically.

Perhaps because Mori Kogoro had been replaced by him and Sonoko Suzuki, things had shifted slightly. The case-related people who should have appeared one after another never showed up.

Then there really was no saving it. That capitalist who despised art had probably already been hung from a streetlamp—ah, no, hung on the wall...

The lights at the end of the corridor were off. Beyond the doorway marked Hell Hall was pitch-black. Thinking of the legend of the walking armor, Ran Mouri felt a little nervous and could not help taking Conan's hand.

The moment Ran grabbed his little hand, Conan, who had just been on alert, immediately blushed and could not say a word.

"The lights are off. Is there a malfunction, or is it intentional for the Hell theme?" Sonoko Suzuki was actually doing fine, but she still seized the opportunity to pull Tangze's entire arm over and hug it tightly. "It's so dark!"

I knew it. Her scheming was practically smacking people in the face. Tangze, whose arm had been grabbed, shook his head silently. But thinking of the sight they would soon encounter, he mercifully did not pull his hand free.

Let her put on an act for a little longer. She would be genuinely scared to death soon enough.

"Wow, that's such a huge piece." The light filtering in from the corridor allowed Ran Mouri to vaguely make out the hall's arrangement. When she turned her head, she noticed the enormous oil painting on the wall. Lowering her head, she leaned closer to the exhibit description beneath it. "This painting is called 'Heaven's Punishment.'"

"'Heaven's Punishment.'" Tangze stood beneath the center of the frame and looked up. The painting depicted a demon pierced through and through against a rock by a longsword, while the demon-slaying knight bowed his head deeply and trudged through a swamp-like pool of blood. "It's a very oppressive painting. It really does look like a scene from hell..."

After speaking, Tangze inhaled. His ears caught the regular drip-drip of water, and he steeled himself before turning to look behind him.

A man with his mouth wide open and a twisted expression had been pierced through the throat by a two-handed knight's sword, nailed to the wall with his feet dangling off the ground. Splattered blood stained his light-colored suit. Blood ran down his body, pooling beneath his feet before flowing onto the red carpet in the middle of the walkway like a river joining a sea of blood.

It was an extremely shocking corpse. Even Tangze, who had prepared himself, froze for a moment. Then he blocked the two girls behind him and pushed Conan behind his legs. "Back up! Be careful!"

The confused high school girls turned their heads.

"Aaaahhh—!" Two shrill female screams exploded beside Tangze's ears, one from each side.

The screams might have been late, but they had arrived. A miscalculation.

The girls' screams made Tangze's head buzz. He could not even raise his hands to cover his ears, and he still had to maintain a shocked, grave expression. It was agony.

"What happened? What's going on?!" The high-pitched female duet echoed through the lightly populated museum, quickly drawing guards, staff members, and visitors.

Before Conan's detective instincts could kick in and take control, Tangze stepped ahead and blocked the doorway. "Don't come any closer. Turn on the lights, now. Call the police. There's a body here!"

The guards and staff froze briefly, then immediately did as instructed. The visitors gasped softly and began to stir in alarm.

Tangze, his expression grave, looked toward the crowd, ready to wait for the culprit to make his grand entrance. Instead, his gaze first caught a visitor wearing a mask, and he froze.

That person stood at the very outer edge of the crowd. A knit cap covered his head, and long black hair hung down his back as he stared steadily into the unlit inner hall.

Noticing Tangze's sweeping gaze, the person inconspicuously stepped behind other visitors and soon left around the corner.

Though Tangze had not seen his face clearly or his eye color, a knit cap and long hair were as distinctive a feature as blond hair and dark skin.

Could that have been Shuichi Akai?

No, he should be called Whiskey. After his undercover identity was exposed, Shuichi Akai had cut off that conspicuous long hair.

Had he not been exposed yet? Tangze's mind was in turmoil. Just how many things had this stitched-together world altered with its butterfly effect?

Even the approaching wail of police sirens could not pull Tangze's attention back. He recalled Shuichi Akai avoiding him just now, then remembered Tooru Amuro looming under a dark cloud yesterday as he scrubbed dishes.

...No wonder he looked like he wanted to scrub the plates until they caught fire. So his other stalker was Whiskey?

Tangze's mouth twitched. Two top undercover agents serving just me—could this blessing be any greater?