Thief and Detective

"...a family heirloom, the world's largest black pearl..."

"...1412, seems to be the case file of a wanted criminal..."

Conan had been listening intently to everyone's discussion, but when he turned his head for a glance, he saw Tang Ze holding a notebook and scribbling in it, clearly not paying attention.

He quietly straightened in his chair and leaned over to see what Tang Ze was writing, but Tang Ze snapped the notebook shut and looked over reproachfully. "Don't snoop on other people's privacy."

Conan hadn't seen the details clearly, but he had caught sight of what seemed to be a great many names, lined up in neat rows. He asked quietly, "What are you writing? Didn't you come because you wanted to hear about the phantom thief?"

"Just some unimportant stuff. Think of it as writing an address book." Tang Ze gave a light cough after getting caught slacking off, then flipped to a blank page and resumed noting down the information Sonoko Suzuki and Mori Kogoro were discussing as though he were taking proper notes.

What else could his list of names be? Naturally, it was a list of people to beat up—no, a repentance list.

Anyway, he was a Phantom Thief of Hearts, not Light Yagami. Writing a few names in a notebook wouldn't get anyone killed. At most, he would steal a few of Mori Kogoro's clients, so he felt no guilt whatsoever.

Conan narrowed his eyes and studied him for a moment, unconvinced, before reluctantly turning his attention back.

"Tang Ze, I can't believe you're interested in this kind of thief." Conan propped up his head, sounding thoroughly uninterested.

"What, you're not interested in 'phantom thieves'? I thought chuuni detectives like you couldn't help chasing after these mysterious criminals."

"Chuuni? Who are you calling chuuni? Don't talk nonsense. I'm a proper detective, okay?"

Tang Ze raised his left hand first. "The Holmes of the Heisei Era, Savior of the Japanese Police..." Then he raised his right hand. "The Arsène Lupin of the Heisei Era, The Magician Under the Moon..."

Conan's ears reddened as he protested in a low voice, "I didn't come up with those exaggerated nicknames!"

"But you sure seem to like them, 'Sherlock Holmes.'" Tang Ze snorted and continued ribbing him.

Mori Kogoro was frowning over the calling card filled with riddles. When he looked up and saw the two whispering together, he said unhappily, "What are you two muttering about?"

"We're discussing the phantom thief." Tang Ze immediately sat up straight.

"These pretentious show-offs." Mori Kogoro was already fed up with the phantom thief. "And those newspapers are ridiculous too. They insist on linking me with that thief. It's driving me nuts."

Tang Ze, the true culprit, wore an obedient, innocent smile.

"Let me see!" Conan spotted the sheet clutched in Mori Kogoro's hand and sprang over at once.

Riddles, codes, crime announcements—they held a fatal attraction for a detective. Conan, who had just claimed he wasn't interested, immediately perked up.

"April Fool,

When the moon parts the two,

Under the name of Pitch Black Star,

Invited upon the waves,

I shall surely arrive."

After reading every word aloud, Conan seized the paper with gleaming eyes, his mind clearly captured by the cryptic message.

Tang Ze's pen kept moving as he raised an eyebrow in satisfaction and wrote down the words "Haido Grand Hotel."

Ran Mouri looked left, then right, and inexplicably felt excluded in this space filled with nothing but detectives and phantom thieves.

"I don't get it." Mori Kogoro sighed. "Anyway, the date is April 1st, April Fool's Day, right?"

"Mr. Amuro..." Tang Ze looked helplessly at the man standing at the foot of the stairs with his arms folded. "I already promised you I wouldn't go. I just came down to get some water."

Tooru Amuro tilted his head and made no move to let him pass, clearly not trusting that explanation.

Tang Ze raised his hands in surrender, spreading his palms as the key looped around his thumb clinked. "I'll hand over the keys first, all right? I told you, I really won't go."

Unmoved, Tooru Amuro reached out and took the keys. After checking that they were indeed for the café's front door, he unceremoniously slipped them into his pocket.

Tang Ze looked honest enough, but he was full of tricks. Tooru Amuro would not let down his guard. If Tang Ze truly avoided trouble as he claimed, Kazami would not have needed to work overtime so often.

"Then I'm getting off work and heading home. I'll return them tomorrow morning." Tooru Amuro put on the suit jacket draped over his arm, locked the door securely, and twisted the handle twice more. Only after making sure it was firmly locked did he glance at Tang Ze, who had gone behind the counter to pour himself water, then leave with slightly greater peace of mind.

Tang Ze stood in the dim café and watched Tooru Amuro walk toward his Mazda, waving him off in high spirits.

Then he went up to the loft and called softly, "Twenty Faces."

Twenty Faces' pitch-black cloak unfurled in the unseen world, and Tang Ze's Teitan school uniform transformed into an all-black phantom thief outfit the next second.

He turned in front of the mirror, making sure there were no flaws, then touched his hair. In the next instant, his fluffy chestnut-brown hair became white, smooth and sleek, reflecting a metallic silver gleam beneath the lights.

Of course, Tang Ze had not learned some sort of transformation spell. It was a wig.

One day, while the Phantom Thief of Hearts was fighting his way through the Shibuya underground subway, inspiration suddenly struck him in the middle of battle.

If toy guns could be used as real guns in the Cognitive World, and unsharpened blades could be used as real knives there, then could wigs be used as real hair in the Cognitive World?

After all, in theory, his phantom thief outfit was not completely unchangeable. If he wanted, he could use the game system to pull out all sorts of bizarre outfits and change into them. The Cognitive World was based on perception to begin with.

Once he had the idea, he acted on it. The very next day, he bought a white heat-resistant synthetic wig and brought it into the Cognitive World.

And sure enough, the test results were outstanding. It did not look like a wig at all—whether seen or touched, it felt exactly like real hair.

This disguise had been a spur-of-the-moment idea, but it also served as insurance for Tang Ze. Chestnut hair was not uncommon in this world, but if Tang Ze himself and his future persona, the "Phantom Thief of Hearts," all had the same hairstyle and hair color, then leaving everything else aside, a single flash of inspiration from an intuition-driven detective like Conan would expose him completely.

Hadn't Gin found a single strand of hair and immediately gone, "Ah, Sherry!"?

As for why he had picked white, making him look even more like 9S... that was even simpler. Because it looked cool!

Besides, a phantom thief dressed in black clothes, black pants, and a black eye mask, with black hair on top of that... if he made his entrance at night, people might not even see him. That would never do.

"I told you it wouldn't have any effect. Don't worry, Tooru Amuro." Tang Ze took out his phone, tapped the navigation app, and smoothly switched into the other world. "The one going to join the fun is 'Joker.' What does that have to do with Tang Ze Zhao?"