This fortune is too small to bear?

Tang Ze lacked artistic flair for two lifetimes, making him a complete stranger to art museums.

He let Sonoko Suzuki drag him along, following Ran Mouri, who was engrossed in the exhibits, step by step. Tang Ze silently activated a "Oh, I get it now" smile.exe and went idle.

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

Tang Ze mused, perhaps he should give her the fan he stole from Maru Denjirou.

The secret treasures of the Palace, upon returning to reality, wouldn't affect the original items that existed in the real world, but their forms would change somewhat. The inscriptions and paintings on that folding fan had disappeared, leaving behind a beautifully crafted, valuable blank golden fan.

This item wasn't suitable for display; it would only invite suspicion without reason. Tang Ze had no interest in selling it, so if he didn't use it as a gift, it would just gather dust in his inventory.

The three high school students had their roles clearly defined: Ran Mouri looked at the exhibits, Tang Ze slacked off, and Sonoko Suzuki watched Tang Ze. Only Conan, bored, stood with his hands behind his back, yawning.

He decided to read the visitor guide that came with the ticket. This exhibition was divided into four themed halls: Sky, Ocean, Earth, and Hell. The printed color pages showed photos of representative exhibits for each theme.

"Sonoko-neechan," Conan raised the brochure in his hand, pointing to the thumbnail under the Hell exhibition title, "Is this the armor you were talking about?"

After holding the paper higher, his gaze drifted down, and he spotted text in a small box at the edge of the page: "...We regret to inform everyone that the Beika Art Museum will officially close next month. Thank you for your support over the years..."

"Ah, in the Hell exhibition, it sounds like a place with a lot of atmosphere," Sonoko Suzuki bent down to look closely, her eyes lighting up. She immediately grabbed Ran Mouri, who was standing in front of a display case, "Ran, let's go to this hall first, and then I'll accompany you for the rest of the tour, okay!"

Her purpose for coming to the museum was to create an atmosphere where Tang Ze would accompany her through a haunted house. It was like dragging someone of the opposite sex to watch a horror movie; they could get close easily. She had to strike while the iron was hot!

Ran Mouri looked at Sonoko Suzuki's expectant gaze, then glanced at the somewhat bewildered Tang Ze, understanding that she probably had another "flirting trick" she wanted to try.

Deeply understanding Sonoko's personality, Ran Mouri could only oblige. The four of them followed the arrow signs through the central corridor to the hall on the other side.

Tang Ze, who hadn't given up on interrupting the case, felt a slight unease as he watched everyone turn towards the Hell exhibition.

His plan was to wait for the characters from the manga to appear, and then he would follow the victim or the killer. If he couldn't stop it psychologically, he would stop it physically.

Perhaps it was because Mori Kogoro had been replaced by him and Sonoko Suzuki, but things had shifted slightly. The case-related personnel who were supposed to appear in turn did not show up.

It seemed there was no hope left. That capitalist who disrespected art was probably already hanging from a lamppost, or rather, hanging on the wall...

The end of the corridor was unlit. The entrance to the Hell exhibition hall was pitch black. Thinking of the legend of the walking armor, Ran Mouri felt a little apprehensive and couldn't help but reach out to hold Conan's hand.

When his small hand was grabbed by Ran, Conan, who had just become alert, immediately blushed and couldn't say anything.

"It's not lit, is it a malfunction, or did they intentionally turn off the lights for the Hell theme?" Sonoko Suzuki was actually fine, but she still used it as an excuse to pull Tang Ze's entire arm and hug him tightly, "It's so dark!"

I knew it. The abacus beads were practically hitting me in the face. Tang Ze, who was being pulled, shook his head speechlessly, but thinking about the scene that was about to unfold, he mercifully didn't pull his hand away.

Let them pretend for a while. They were really going to be scared to death next.

"Wow, what a huge artwork." The light from the corridor allowed Ran Mouri to vaguely make out the layout of the hall. Turning her head, she noticed a huge oil painting on the wall. She lowered her head and leaned closer to the exhibit description below the painting, "This painting is called 'Heaven's Punishment'."

"'Heaven's Punishment'," Tang Ze stood in the center of the frame, tilting his head up. The painting depicted a demon pierced by a long sword on a rock, while the knight who slew the demon bowed his head deeply, wading through a muddy blood pool, "It's a very oppressive painting, truly like a scene from Hell..."

After speaking, Tang Ze inhaled, his ears catching the rhythmic "drip, drip" sound of water droplets. He prepared himself mentally, turned his head, and looked behind him.

A man with his mouth agape and a ferocious expression, pierced through the throat by the knight's greatswords held in both hands, was pinned to the wall with his feet off the ground. Splattering blood stained his light-colored suit, and blood flowed down his body, pooling at his feet and running onto the red carpet in the aisle, like rivers flowing into a sea of blood.

It was a very impactful corpse. Even Tang Ze, who had prepared himself, was stunned for a moment. Then he shielded the two girls behind him and pushed Conan behind his legs, "Back up! Be careful!"

The confused high school girls turned their heads.

"Ahhhhhh—" Two sharp, high-pitched female screams exploded in Tang Ze's ears, one from the left and one from the right.

The screams, though delayed, had arrived. He had miscalculated.

Tang Ze's head was buzzing from their shrieks, and he couldn't cover his ears. He had to maintain a shocked and solemn expression, which was incredibly painful.

"What's wrong, what's happening!" The high-decibel duet of female screams echoed through the not-so-crowded museum, quickly attracting security staff and visitors.

Before Conan's detective instincts could take over to control the situation, Tang Ze stepped in front of the entrance first, "Don't come closer, hurry and turn on the lights. Call the police, there's a corpse here!"

The security guards and staff were stunned for a moment before complying. The visitors let out small gasps and began to stir.

Tang Ze, with a heavy expression, looked at the crowd, ready to wait for the killer to make an appearance. However, his vision first caught sight of a masked visitor, and he couldn't help but freeze.

That person stood at the outermost edge of the crowd, wearing a knitted hat. Long black hair cascaded down their back, and they were staring fixedly into the unlit inner hall.

Sensing Tang Ze's gaze, the person subtly retreated behind other visitors and quickly disappeared around the corner.

Although he couldn't see the face clearly or the eye color, the knitted hat and long hair were as distinctive as blond hair and dark skin.

Could this be Shuichi Akai?

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

Could he not have been exposed yet? Tang Ze's mind was in a bit of a mess. How much had this stitched-together world's butterfly effect altered?

The approaching police sirens didn't divert Tang Ze's attention. He recalled Shuichi Akai's evasive behavior just now, and then remembered Amuro Tooru's gloomy expression while scrubbing dishes yesterday.

...No wonder he looked like he was about to set the dishes on fire. So his other stalker was Whiskey?

Tang Ze's mouth twitched. Two top undercover agents serving me alone. How could this fortune be small?