How Can a Conscientious Person Fight Me!

Although the Tarot cards given felt like a decree, and the abilities granted were strange, regardless of anything else, Tang Ze's plan this time was a great success.

Without lingering outside, he packed two chiffon cakes for Conan, as a sort of apology for tricking him, and then sent the little detective back to the Mouri Detective Agency.

School ended at four, and the murder case at the art museum delayed them until past five. If he didn't send the elementary schooler home soon, he'd be accused of corrupting a child.

"Tang Ze, can I call you that?" Although the past two hours had been full of ups and downs, and the experience of his disguise shattering so easily had dealt Conan a significant blow, now walking beside Tang Ze, he felt it was good to have a peer who knew his true identity.

These past few days had felt inexplicably long, but it hadn't been that long since he was attacked by the Black Organization at the amusement park and turned into a child.

With one sudden incident after another, he had to adapt to the change in his identity and figure out how to hide it from Ran and Uncle Mori. He really wasn't good at lying. Just as Tang Ze said, his acting skills were terrible, yet he had to keep concocting lies, which greatly increased his stress but offered no outlet.

Being able to speak in his true state like this made Conan feel relaxed.

"Of course, Conan-kun," Tang Ze said, playing along with his new powerful ally, no, assistant.

"Aren't you curious why I became small? You haven't even asked me."

"I don't need to ask; I know it's a troublesome situation. I can barely protect myself right now, so let's not be curious about things I can't help with. It will only cause trouble for others," Tang Ze said, but in his heart, he thought, You don't need to ask. When the all-knowing detective starts investigating Tang Ze Zhao's case, he'll naturally discover traces of the Black Organization. Everything that needs to be said will be said. "Instead, I'm more curious why you ended up at Ran Mouri's house. Sonoko Suzuki said you two are childhood friends, so she and her father must know what you looked like as a child, and she's very familiar with you. Is that really okay?"

Conan pushed up his glasses, recalling Professor Agasa's proposed plan, and said without much confidence, "Um... someone suggested that I could make Uncle Mori a famous detective, and then once he's famous enough, I could use his connections to find the people who harmed me..."

Conan's voice grew softer and softer under Tang Ze's speechless and sympathetic gaze.

"Is this plan no good?" Conan asked very quietly.

Tang Ze, with his high emotional intelligence, replied, "It's imaginative. It's a story someone would pay to hear."

Being subtly jabbed like this, Conan finally felt the reality of Tang Ze being from Kyoto. He awkwardly scratched his temple, "But it's still feasible, right? Like today... ah, today was an accident, but I've already helped Uncle Mori solve a few cases, and he's starting to gain some fame."

Tang Ze touched his right arm with lingering fear, "If you insist on trying this method, I have no grounds to object. However, next time, if you want my cooperation, just say so. I don't want to be unexpectedly injected with anesthetic again."

"Ahahaha..." Conan let out a dry laugh, thinking Tang Ze's current thoughts were probably not very polite, so he changed the subject, "Uncle Mori becoming a famous detective is a good thing for you too, right? Your case also needs channels for investigation."

"It's hard to say," Tang Ze subtly expressed his stance. "If there's any advantage, it's that I don't have to step forward. My identity is awkward. If I get involved in cases in a high-profile manner, the mastermind won't let it slide. Being high-profile is very dangerous for me, and I'm also a juvenile offender. If that's exposed, the media will relentlessly pursue it..."

Conan recalled the scene at the art museum earlier, when Tang Ze had leaned over to Inspector Megure and asked him not to mention anything to the outside world, and nodded in understanding.

The setting sun cast a fiery red glow on the clouds, and the twilight rays fell on the two of them, reminding Conan of the day Ran Mouri held his hand and led him towards her home.

What was he feeling then?

"Don't be too pessimistic, Tang Ze," Conan raised his hand, only able to reach Tang Ze's elbow, and patted him comfortingly. "As long as you're alive, there's hope. No matter how bad your situation is, don't give up."

Tang Ze lowered his head to look at the child trying hard to express a sense of shared suffering, and patted his shoulder in response.

At that moment, Tang Ze was thinking, Let's walk faster. Let's get him home quickly. This little brat has no sense of secrecy. Who knows when Shuichi Akai or Tooru Amuro will appear behind him? We need to protect your fragile disguise, Conan-kun.

The two, completely out of sync, walked in the orange-red sunset, appearing to be having a pleasant conversation, the atmosphere harmonious.

Returning home late, Tang Ze walked into the coffee shop. Before he could even put down his bag, his guardian grabbed him and spun him around to check if he was injured.

"Amuro-san..." Tang Ze said with a wry smile, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was just invited to the art museum by a classmate after school. I wasn't attacked."

After confirming Tang Ze had no new injuries, Tooru Amuro released the high school student he had been scrutinizing and walked back behind the counter. "And then you ran into a murder case?"

Tang Ze spread his hands innocently. "Yeah, we were the first to discover the scene and were kept by the police to assist with the investigation, which is why we returned late. We really didn't run into any other trouble."

Tooru Amuro thought about this and felt even more of a headache. "You don't, by any chance, think detectives like Mr. Mouri are cool and want to try being a detective for fun, do you?"

Tooru Amuro, an information operative with far-reaching channels, naturally knew Tang Ze's true role in this case. The police were basically fooled by the killer's misdirection and were about to arrest the wrongly accused scapegoat. Once the real killer left the scene, he could dispose of the pen hidden on his person, and it would be difficult to find evidence to pinpoint the killer again.

As Furuya Rei, he was very gratified to see Tang Ze, who was suffering from a false accusation, choose to clear others' names and be the one to lend a hand.

Tang Ze's expressed disappointment with the justice system had not been catalyzed into indifference or malice. Having weathered the storm, and even still being in the pouring rain, he was willing to hold an umbrella for others – what a rare and valuable quality.

But on the other hand, Tooru Amuro also knew that Tang Ze was in a dangerous situation.

If he were to appear in the media like those detectives, and to prevent Tang Ze from drawing more attention, thus causing his plan to go awry, Tooru Amuro couldn't be sure what methods the Organization would choose to deal with him.

"That's impossible, right? Being a detective or something." Tang Ze pondered for a moment, feeling that his words contained more of Furuya Rei's sentiments, and then said, "My identity isn't suitable for exposure. If the public finds out that the key clue to a case was provided by a criminal, they'll question the correctness of the conclusion... I just want to help, not cause trouble. Don't worry, Amuro-san, I've already asked the investigating officers not to disclose it."

His own wrongful accusation was like a sharp knife, specifically targeting conscientious people on the "Red" side. It was like a buff; as soon as it was stuck to his head, Tang Ze could stand on the moral high ground and do whatever he pleased.

Tooru Amuro, like Conan a few minutes earlier, was choked up by his words and could only reach out and pat Tang Ze's shoulder in a comforting gesture.

So useful, Tang Ze marveled, his conscience completely untroubled, stating he'd do it again.

If he participated in more cases with the reason of "not letting others suffer the same hardships as me," his persona would become impeccable.

A youth traumatized by violence, who had lost faith in society, yet extended a hand to everyone unfortunate like himself out of simple justice and strong empathy – who wouldn't call him a saint!

Another day of slacking off at work without finishing in time. The second chapter will be updated tonight.