Detective Conan: Becoming a Tycoon in Tokyo! [40]

In this attempted murder, neither the culprit nor the victim won.

And yet, somehow, Shōichi stood alone as the victor.

Just moments after Matsumoto Kiyonaga of the MPD began investigating him, Matsumoto’s daughter was poisoned by her own fiancé and barely survived.

If that wasn’t a warning, what was?

Even Conan, who had pieced together the truth, found himself doubting it.

It was exactly like the case of Chairman Yotsui’s daughter.

When Yotsui refused to pay, his daughter was suddenly murdered. Yet every investigation afterward had cleared Shōichi completely.

Still, he had profited. Yotsui paid up—out of fear.

And now it was happening again: Matsumoto launched an investigation, and his daughter was nearly killed. Once again, the official conclusion was that Shōichi was innocent.

Shōichi was always innocent.
And Shōichi always benefitted.

For the first time, Conan couldn’t fully believe in his own deduction.

Could the truth I uncovered really be the whole truth?

“Um…”

A timid voice broke the silence. A reception attendant peeked nervously at Shōichi.

“Earlier, when Mr. Shōichi arrived, he said something to the groom… about giving him a gift next time he got married. I—I don’t know what he meant.”

After blurting it out, he shrank back into the corner.

“Did you really say that?” Matsumoto demanded.

“I did,” Shōichi replied easily.

He had no reason to deny it.

Matsumoto’s expression darkened again, suspicion flickering back to life.

But Shōichi only smiled faintly. “I just meant that with a father-in-law like you, Toshihiko was bound to get divorced eventually. That’s all.”

A flimsy excuse, and everyone knew it.

Even Toshihiko couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Not because Shōichi had ordered him, but because he suspected Shōichi had known his murderous intent all along—had quietly stood aside, letting it happen.

Yet when he thought back, Shōichi had never actually told him to do anything.

Seeing their disbelief, Shōichi lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Innocent until proven guilty, Inspector. Without evidence, you can’t touch me.”

Under the circumstances, the words sounded less like principle and more like arrogance.

“Administrator Matsumoto!”

An officer burst in, breathless. “The hospital just called—Sayuri-san is out of danger!”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the room.

Toshihiko bowed his head, overcome with relief.

Shōichi glanced at him, faintly amused.

What a mess of a man. A few words could have resolved everything, yet he’d nearly committed murder instead.

Still, considering Toshihiko had unknowingly delivered such a timely warning to Matsumoto, Shōichi patted his shoulder lightly.

“Sayuri-san’s fine now. You can relax.”

Toshihiko gave a bitter laugh.

Sayuri was safe—but he was headed to prison. By the time he got out, the world would already have moved on without him.

Shōichi looked at him with something close to pity.

With Conan around, most culprits never saw freedom again.

“Don’t worry,” Shōichi said kindly. “I’ll hire you a lawyer and try to reduce your sentence.”

After all, Sayuri had willingly drunk the poisoned tea. With that, getting a letter of understanding would be simple.

And with Kisaki Eri as his attorney—well, she almost never lost a case in Beika.

Besides, thanks to Conan’s dramatic deductions, suspects tended to confess on impulse, sometimes weakening the prosecution’s case.

Perhaps Toshihiko wouldn’t spend decades behind bars after all.

“With the case solved so neatly, shall we go visit the bride at the hospital?” Shōichi asked pleasantly.

Matsumoto ignored him completely, fixing his cold stare on Toshihiko.

“If you ever loved Sayuri at all, then answer me honestly—did someone put you up to it?”

Before Toshihiko could reply, Sonoko snapped, “Do you have some grudge against Shōichi-nii or something? Why are you so desperate to pin everything on him?”

Matsumoto didn’t even look her way. His gaze stayed locked on Toshihiko.

“No one else,” Toshihiko said at last, scowling.

He wasn’t so shameless that he’d drag someone else down to ease his guilt.

With that, Matsumoto could do nothing but swallow his rage and end the investigation.

As Shōichi had said—innocent until proven guilty.

The report would state simply: Takasugi Toshihiko poisoned Matsumoto Sayuri. Sumitomo Shōichi was uninvolved.

Toshihiko was taken away, and Shōichi brought Haibara to visit Sayuri on his behalf.

Sayuri was already recovering. She would live.

On the way back, Inspector Satō caught up with him, eyes sharp.

“Even if there’s no evidence—and even if I can’t figure out how you did it—I’m certain this case was your doing,” she said coldly.

Shōichi didn’t answer. He neither admitted nor denied.

Instead, he smiled faintly. “Then tell me—what makes you think that?”

“The pattern,” Satō snapped. “Every time someone dies, you come out ahead. That can’t be coincidence. I’ll keep digging, and I’ll get justice for all your victims.”

Shōichi’s smile widened. “Isn’t that what detectives are supposed to do?”

Satō’s eyebrow twitched. It was their duty—but not when the criminal mocked them for it.

Shōichi leaned closer, his voice low and almost gentle.

“If you ever find the slightest evidence linking me to anything, you can do whatever you want to me. Consider that a promise.”

Satō’s jaw tightened.

That arrogance—was it because he’d erased every trace?
Or because he knew he could silence anyone who found something?
Surely it wasn’t because he was truly innocent…?

Shōichi opened the car door and slipped inside, then leaned out the window.

“Need a lift? I recall your license was suspended,” he teased.

“No need!” Satō hissed through clenched teeth.

“Then goodbye for now,” Shōichi said lightly. “I sincerely hope Inspector Satō keeps her sense of justice intact.”

Satō’s brow furrowed.

What did that even mean?

She thought of Inspector Megure—how he’d never shown favoritism toward Shōichi before, yet today had practically played Mouri Kogoro’s role, shielding him outright.

That wasn’t the Megure she knew.

Her frown deepened, her chest tightening with anger as she watched Shōichi’s car disappear down the street.

No matter what tricks you pull, I won’t yield.
I’ll never abandon the justice in my heart.

...

“Inspector Megure, I always knew your harsh words toward me came from respect. Deep down, you’ve always recognized my talent!”

“...Huh?”

Inspector Megure blinked awake, groggy and confused.

Forensic Officer Nagamune stood over him, speaking earnestly.

Around them, their colleagues had gathered—watching with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

---

This is a fan translation of 柯南：我在东京当财阀 by 倒霉的菜狗. Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!