Detective Conan: Becoming a Tycoon in Tokyo! [21]

Sunlight spilled into the room.

Haibara blinked awake, carefully easing away the hand resting on her.

But as she moved, Shōichi stirred. She froze instantly, letting his hand rest on her head for a long moment before daring to shift again.

When she finally slipped free, Haibara let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Holding her shoes, she tiptoed out of Shōichi’s bedroom without a sound.

That was too close. Way too close.

He’d almost grilled her yesterday—thoroughly.

All because that careless detective had so casually exposed a massive secret.

Haibara could only hope Shōichi wouldn’t start thinking along impossible lines like reverse aging.

Because with his kind of logic, he just might.

She sighed helplessly.

She had to speed up her plans for avenging her sister.

But the moment she closed Shōichi’s bedroom door, she froze.

Yuuko-san was standing there with a teasing smile, camera in hand, recording.

“It’s—it’s not what you think!” Haibara waved her hands in panic.

“Of course it isn’t.” Yuuko patted her head gently. “It definitely wasn’t Haibara sneaking into Shōichi-sama’s room at night, asking for cuddles, then sneaking out in embarrassment in the morning so no one would find out.”

“I—”

Haibara wanted to explain, but Yuuko was clearly committed to her own narrative.

“All right, all right, I didn’t see a thing, okay? Let’s go eat breakfast first. Don’t wake Shōichi-sama.” Yuuko smiled kindly.

You had to let a child keep her dignity—otherwise, Haibara might just run away.

After helping her put her shoes on, Yuuko led the flustered little girl toward the dining room.

Haibara’s face was a picture of tragic indignation.

Why is it that every time Shōichi pulls me into bed, Yuuko-san always catches me?!

She wolfed down breakfast, gave Yuuko a hasty goodbye, and dashed out the door before Yuuko could even offer to walk her.

She couldn’t face staying home today.

...

The sun was already high by the time Shōichi finally woke up.

“Shōichi-sama, lunch is ready,” Yuuko said.

“Bring it to my room,” he called lazily from the bed.

After eating, he dressed, rummaged around the sheets for a bit, grabbed the gift he’d prepared for Miyano Akemi, and headed to the company.

At the office, Akemi was buried under a secretary’s workload for a modest salary.

Shōichi had passed nearly all of his responsibilities to her, leaving her shoulders heavy with the weight of his “trust.”

“I brought you a gift.”

He tossed her a small box.

Akemi eyed it warily. What was this about?

“Didn’t you say you wanted to see your little sister?” Shōichi reminded her.

Her heart clenched tight, breath catching.

She opened the box carefully—and went pale at the sight of a transparent plastic bag inside, terrified it might contain a piece of her sister.

Shōichi gave her a puzzled look.

Is her workload really that bad? Why does opening a box look like such hard labor?

“H-hair…?” Akemi stammered, staring at the bag in shock.

Inside were a few strands of tea-brown hair—her sister’s color and texture exactly.

“Yep. See? From these, you can tell your sister’s perfectly healthy,” Shōichi said lightly.

Akemi’s lips twitched.

She’d jumped to the worst conclusion way too fast.

He still needed her working for him; he wouldn’t harm Shiho—at least not yet.

Glancing at him as he sipped his tea, she bit her lip.

This was a warning. If she even hinted at betrayal, her sister’s fate would turn grim.

“I understand,” Akemi said through clenched teeth.

“Good. As long as you understand.” Shōichi nodded.

Now that she knew he hadn’t harmed her sister, surely she’d work for him wholeheartedly.

Sincerity for sincerity—that was Shōichi’s philosophy.

“By the way, Yotsui’s debts have been repaid,” Akemi reported.

“Really? His daughter just died, yet he still found time to settle debts. Chairman Yotsui’s a man of principle,” Shōichi said.

Akemi stayed silent.

You know exactly why he paid.

“A few other companies called, too,” she added. “They said they want to discuss repayment. They asked you to stay calm—they’re not like that stubborn old Yotsui.”

“That’s great. Everyone seems very reasonable,” Shōichi said, pleased.

As someone new to the business world, he knew he had shortcomings and might not manage everything well.

Yet everyone he met was so… accommodating.

Chairman Yotsui might’ve been stubborn at first, but even after his daughter’s death, he hadn’t forgotten his debts. A good man, really.

The rest had all said they’d repay him without issue.

Shōichi couldn’t understand why Takeda had struggled so much to recover these debts before. Clearly, everyone was being reasonable.

Akemi tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing.

Just one night, and Shōichi’s reputation had already spread far and wide.

Some stories were exaggerated, sure—but there was no question he wasn’t innocent. To reach his goals, he’d stop at nothing, legal or not.

Chairman Yotsui was publicly accusing Shōichi of being lawless, even claiming he’d killed his daughter to collect debts. But despite the murder talk, Shōichi was untouched.

The police wouldn’t dare cross the Sumitomo heir—they had no choice but to look away.

Even the previous gunshot and poisoning cases had resurfaced.

And Mouri Kogoro—he’d become Shōichi’s number one lackey.

At first, Kogoro had accused Shōichi furiously, demanding an investigation. But soon after, he’d twisted the story, clearing Shōichi and blaming a scapegoat instead.

Now the papers were claiming Mouri’s fame as a “great detective” was all thanks to the Sumitomo family.

...

“What kind of crap is this?!”

Kogoro slammed the newspaper onto his desk, seething.

Those damned reporters—how dare they call him that zaibatsu heir’s pawn! Outrageous!

But he couldn’t exactly deny it.

Because some nosy reporter had snapped a perfect photo—Shōichi handing him a check, Kogoro grinning as he took it, right in front of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

With that picture out there, no excuse would ever stick.

“Dammit! Saying my fame as a detective came from the Sumitomo Corporation! I earned it myself!” he shouted angrily.

Conan’s mouth twitched.

Sure you did. Your fame clearly comes from me.

---

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!