Conan: Not Necessarily, He Seems Like a Good Person

Tang Ze's words were quite enigmatic, bordering on provoking.

However, Conan's father, Yusaku Kudo, was a top-tier enigma himself, excelling at vagueness and speaking in riddles, a style Conan had adapted to well. His mind quickly generated several possible interpretations of Tang Ze's statement.

"Is it because of your case?" Conan made a successful connection, believing Tang Ze meant that judicial justice had failed in his situation. He followed up by asking for case details, trying to find a way to persuade Tang Ze to reconsider. "You still haven't told me in detail what happened."

"I intended to organize it into a document for you. I've been recalling and thinking about the details recently, but if you're interested in hearing it, I can tell you," Tang Ze recalled seriously for a moment, then presented the biggest difficulty to Conan. "There's a lot you'll need to investigate, because I don't know who the plaintiff is, who the witness is, or who the police and judge were. I'm the party involved, but I can say I know nothing about this case."

"...Huh?" Conan was dumbfounded by Tang Ze's statement.

Tang Ze stroked his chin. "Unbelievable, right? But I really don't know. Although I can roughly describe their appearances, I doubt it would be very useful."

Then Tang Ze recounted the entire process of the case.

Conan's eyebrows twitched as he listened. He looked down at Tang Ze's shoes. Tang Ze was wearing canvas sneakers today, soft and smooth without any hint of aggression, yet he had just used them to dent a metal door several centimeters thick.

"Your combat skills... I can't tell what style you've learned, but your level seems very good. Are you sure you just pushed him, and he only grazed his forehead?" he asked tactfully.

With Tang Ze's strength, he could kick a door ten meters away. Kicking someone would easily send them flying three to four meters...

"Free Fighting," Tang Ze said. As soon as he finished speaking, he felt Conan's gaze shift unnervingly from his feet to his hands, as if implying his hand strength was even greater than his legs. He couldn't help but add, "I hadn't learned Free Fighting back then. Maybe I had some strength, but I really didn't cause any harm. After he fell, he could still stand up and curse at me..."

Conan reluctantly believed his answer and asked again, "You haven't been learning Free Fighting for long? Your level seems very good."

"Just practical experience," Tang Ze replied calmly, having prepared for this.

"You fight often?" Conan's train of thought was derailed again.

"Quite the opposite, I was a model student back then," Tang Ze tapped his head. "I feel like you're thinking very rude things... I was in the detention center for over two months. If I hadn't learned some skills, I probably would have been beaten to death in there."

This was the explanation Tang Ze had prepared for the Free Fighting skills he'd acquired through a cheat. This wouldn't fool Tooru Amuro; if he actually saw Tang Ze fight twice, he'd find it very familiar, so Tang Ze needed to appear weak in front of him.

Fortunately, the group following him was Shuichi Akai... Those two would never compare notes, so Tang Ze's exposure probability was very low.

What Conan heard was a more serious issue: "Were you subjected to violent interrogation in prison?"

"No, I don't think they would leave such evidence. It was just a coincidence that hooligans and thugs were in the same cell as me every day, and it just so happened that conflicts arose," Tang Ze subconsciously touched his ribs due to a slight phantom pain.

The original body's most severe injury was a suspected cartilage contusion in his ribs, which had pained him for over half a month.

Conan pinched his chin in thought. Perhaps Tang Ze's ignorance of the case wasn't fake. Judging by the final procedures and documentation, this case, apart from being a wrongful conviction and having all evidence, both testimonial and physical, fabricated, was actually quite compliant with procedural justice.

Conan: "..." It was over. The more he listened, the less he felt he had the standing to advise Tang Ze against being too extreme. It was thanks to his excellent educational background over the past decade that he was still largely a good person.

"Alright, it's useless to speculate without any means to investigate. Consider it when you have a channel. Perhaps I'll recall more details?" Tang Ze saw the elementary school student lowering his head and remaining silent for the entire journey. He felt that burning his brain cells like this might not be good for his development, so he patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Okay, go pick out what you want."

"Huh?" Conan, snapping back to attention, realized Tang Ze had brought him to a bookstore in the shopping district. He dully remembered that Tang Ze had indeed used the excuse of taking him out to buy books that morning to borrow him from the Mouri agency.

"We agreed to buy books, so go take a look," Tang Ze gently pushed Conan towards the display cabinet filled with new books.

As Conan looked up, a newly released mystery novel was right in front of him. He couldn't help but reach out and grab one. Then, realizing himself, he shook his head vigorously. "No, no, I don't have any money to buy books right now." He said this with a hint of sadness.

Since becoming a child, he couldn't carry too much cash on him, as it would arouse suspicion. Although he still had savings, he couldn't possibly ask Tang Ze to take him to the bank just to buy a book...

"It's fine, I'll pay for it," Tang Ze, who was truly not lacking money, waved his hand and took a hardcover edition of the "Complete Works of Agatha Christie" and "Selected Works of Edgar Allan Poe" from the bookshelf, handing them to Conan.

Just by looking at the thickness and binding of the two books, their considerable price was evident. Conan repeatedly waved his hands. "Forget it, forget it, this isn't quite appropriate..."

As he spoke, he saw the covers of the two books and, recalling the previous discussion about "Murder on the Orient Express," he paused.

"Since we used this reason to go out, it would be strange not to bring back books, right? It would be easily mistaken for finding an excuse to go out and play," Tang Ze glanced indifferently at the price tags and stuffed the books into the little boy's arms. "If anyone asks, just say I bought these two and lent them to you. That way, it'll be convenient to have an excuse to come out next time."

Books in Japan are very expensive. Royalties of 5%-15% can make authors very wealthy. Tang Ze seriously suspected that the high status and respect for Japanese writers were partly due to it being a high-income profession.

But no matter how expensive, how much could they cost? Tang Ze could spend over a hundred thousand yen in one night to dent a new mask. A few books were truly trivial. If he needed money, he could go beat up the Shadow, oh no, he could earn it by doing good deeds!

Conan tightly hugged the books, lowered his head, and inhaled the rich scent of ink, feeling a little touched.

Ever since he had shrunk, he could clearly feel that he had become a child with no human rights. No one believed what he said, and no one cared about what he did. It had been a long time since he had experienced the feeling of being respected as a friend by a high school student and having equal conversations. Tang Ze even worried that he would be scolded for not bringing books home...

And... Conan seriously looked at the price tags of the three books, tightening his grip on the books.

He was really giving him a lot!

It seemed he had overthought things. It wasn't strange for Tang Ze to be in a bad mood after his life suddenly took a turn. Look at him, helping to solve murder cases and find missing children. Even if there were some psychological deviations, he was still a good person!