"Careful!!!!"
It was like a nightmare unfurling in slow motion.
The bridge above them—exploded.
As the collapsed structure came crashing down with a monstrous roar, Ran saw only one thing: Hayashi Yoshiki's face.
A face stricken with urgency, sprinting toward them.
Then—her hand was grabbed.
He pulled her with such force that she nearly stumbled, but she quickly steadied herself and began to run, blindly trusting him—just moments before the falling wreckage could claim them.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!
The glass ceiling of the skybridge shattered like paper.
Concrete and steel rained down with horrifying weight as the collapsed 60th floor bridge tore through the 45th floor below it. The screams of twisted metal blended with the terrified voices of the trapped.
Ran nearly collapsed from the shockwave—but a hand steadied her again.
"It's okay. You're safe now."
Hayashi Yoshiki held her firmly.
Ran gasped for breath and turned around.
The skybridge... was gone.
"Yoshiki-nii..."
Her voice trembled.
But he didn't answer immediately.
Yoshiki walked to the edge where the bridge had once stood.
Now there was only a gap—a void—between the towers. Far below, the ground yawned like a death sentence. Any normal person with acrophobia would already be paralyzed.
"Ran! Yoshiki-nii! Are you okay?!"
Sonoko, across the chasm in Building B, shouted frantically.
"We're alright!"
Ran answered quickly.
Yoshiki turned back, his calm gaze finding her.
"Everyone's safe, but…"He exhaled."This just got more complicated."
Ran's expression tensed immediately.
She was only a high school student. It would be unnatural not to feel fear in a situation like this.
No bridge.No elevator.Flames behind them.
And the passageways downstairs? Blocked by fire.
Meanwhile, on the ground below—
Guests who had safely evacuated were stunned into silence as they stared at the smoke and flames rising from above.
Inspector Megure was shouting orders while coordinating with the fire department. But just then, Kogoro Mouri's phone rang.
His face turned pale the moment he answered.
"What did you say?! Ran and Yoshiki didn't make it across?!"
"What? Ran-chan and Yoshiki-nii?!"
Inspector Megure also froze.
Sonoko, sobbing on the other end, had explained everything: the 60th-floor bridge collapsed while Hayashi Yoshiki was helping others escape. He and Ran were left behind—trapped on the 45th floor.
Megure immediately turned to the firefighters.
"Can we send a team to the 45th floor?!"
"Impossible! The fire's too intense. We're trying to control the 40th floor now—we can't reach that high!"
The firefighters were sweating, frantic.
Just then, Sonoko, Ayumi, and the other children arrived, breathless and distraught.
"There's a fire on the 45th floor too!" Ayumi shouted.
Kogoro Mouri's face was ashen.
And then—
The press arrived.
They'd been invited to cover the skyscraper's opening, but now, they had a real scoop.
"Is it true someone's still trapped on the 45th floor?"
"Is one of them Hayashi Yoshiki, the famous novelist-detective?"
"Mr. Mouri! Can you confirm this?!"
Kogoro said nothing.
At that same moment, in a luxury apartment in Mihua City—
Wrapped in nothing but a towel, Vermouth emerged from the bathroom, towel-drying her hair.
She had been treating her stay in Beika like a vacation—relaxing, distant from her usual espionage grind. Still, as an informant of the Organization, she kept her eye on operations.
She was the one who had flagged that the Organization's old bombs weren't powerful enough.
So she was quite curious to see the results of today's test: Gin and Vodka were reportedly using a new model to eliminate a rogue programmer.
Opening her laptop, she casually searched news about the Nishitama City twin towers—
Only to freeze.
A banner headline glared back at her:
"Famous detective Hayashi Yoshiki trapped in tower inferno!"
Her eyes widened.
Cointreau...?!
Immediately, she dove deeper.
And then—her heart dropped.
Not just Hayashi Yoshiki.
Ran was trapped too.
The live feed from on-site reporters left no doubt. Judging by the timeline, he had stayed behind to save her.
No hesitation.
Vermouth snatched her phone and dialed.
"Hello? It's me."
Her voice, still silky smooth, hid a mounting tension.
On the other end, Gin's voice was as cold and deadpan as always.
She forced a chuckle.
"Looks like the new bomb's a real success. But... maybe next time, try being a little more careful before hitting the detonator?"
"...What are you getting at?"
Gin's tone dropped a few degrees colder.
"Thanks to your test run, Cointreau's now stuck on the 45th floor.""He might burn alive in the next few minutes."
—click.
The line went dead.
In his Porsche, Gin's expression twisted in a way Vodka had never seen.
"Turn around."
"Huh?" Vodka blinked.
He glanced sideways—and flinched.
Gin's face was a mask of fury.
No jokes. No smiles.
Just cold, deadly urgency.
Vermouth doesn't bluff.
He opened his contacts and began dialing with such force that the plastic of his phone creaked.
Vodka understood immediately.
No questions asked—he whipped the car around, ignoring every traffic law.
Whatever was about to happen, Gin knew one thing:
He hadn't just endangered a pawn.
He'd nearly sacrificed one of their own.