"Good morning, Kazawa-kun. Is that a new outfit?" Enomoto Azusa looked up from wiping the bar counter and smiled at Kazawa, who was walking downstairs in a British-style trench coat.
"Yes, good morning, Miss Enomoto." Wearing his usual style of outfit again, Kazawa was feeling great. He greeted her while picking up a cloth and started wiping the tables too.
Kazawa was working with full focus, but Enomoto Azusa couldn't help but chuckle.
Putting the outfit of a thirty-year-old man on an eighteen-year-old boy with a baby face didn't make him look older at all—in fact, it only made him look even more youthful.
Maybe it's because his face is so cute, so he tries to dress like an adult?
Enomoto Azusa once again adjusted her mental image of Kazawa more toward "adorable kid," and held back a laugh as she praised, "Very stylish, Kazawa-kun."
Completely unaware, Kazawa cheerfully helped open the café, hanging up the "Open" sign.
Naturally, he wasn't going to school today either.
Transferred to Teitan High School for three days, and already had two days off—say what you will, but Kazawa fully supported the way holidays were scheduled in the Conan world.
With his gear sorted and having said goodbye to Enomoto Azusa, Kazawa set out for Maru Denjirou's Palace.
Maru Denjirou was probably on edge today after last night's calling card. His estate was surely swarming with guards.
Unfortunately, the sword of Conan logic can't cut through P5 officials.
He weaved through alleys and turned a corner, tapping the screen of his phone.
With one step, Kazawa entered the deserted streets of the cognitive world, his figure instantly vanishing into the shadows.
Seconds later, a figure who had been tailing Kazawa arrived at the same corner.
He looked at the empty alley and raised an eyebrow, not surprised.
Kazawa Akira indeed had anti-surveillance and anti-tracking abilities—Shuichi Akai confirmed it again.
Click. The sound of a gun being loaded.
Shuichi Akai immediately sidestepped the incoming bullet and turned toward the alley behind him.
Amuro Tooru stood there with his silver, gleaming HK P7M8 raised, aiming with full hostility.
"Rye. What are you doing here?"
——
Kazawa, of course, didn't know that the two people tailing him had ended up bumping into each other. He was gleefully sprinting toward Maru Denjirou's estate, now transformed into his Phantom Thief form.
The heightened alert of the palace brought with it a swarm of red-eyed shadows, patrolling in the eerie crimson glow. Maru Denjirou's Shadow was no longer strutting about the streets. The mansion doors were tightly shut.
Having played too many games, Kazawa didn't feel the slightest bit of panic—in fact, he thought the lack of BGM made things feel a bit bland.
Because the palace layout didn't change with the owner's alert level, his infiltration route was still viable. And if the increased patrols spotted him—
Then he'd just kill every shadow that saw him!
Veteran gamer Kazawa understood one truth deeply: as long as everyone who saw you is dead, it's still considered stealth.
Climbing walls, scaling roofs, leaping, sneaking—smooth and precise.
Whether due to the awakened boost or not, this untrained teenage body in the cognitive world now showcased Kazawa's full potential—light, agile, and full of power.
Even though the number of guards in the courtyard had doubled compared to yesterday, and their searchlight-like eyes flooded the area with red beams, Kazawa still easily moved across rooftops and slipped into the inner courtyard.
The entire main house, surrounded by warrior-type Shadows, looked like it was wrapped in a red mist. Maru Denjirou now donned full samurai armor, gripping a katana, his eyes scanning the yard.
Good grief, this atmosphere's downright creepy.
Kazawa peeked down from the eaves and grabbed the mask on his face.
Then leaped into the air.
Midair, the mask in his hand burst into flames, and the ferocious silhouette of Twenty Faces rose behind him.
Stealth? What stealth?
Kazawa glanced at the fully-loaded skill list of Twenty Faces and grinned provocatively at the roaring Maru Denjirou.
Do you even know the worth of a New Game+?
Of course he didn't just beat the crap out of Leon last night—he had also taken out his fully-loaded Persona compendium, packed to the brim with finely-tuned skills, and then blew through 90 million yen in fusion costs at high speed.
And that's how a perfectly optimized, maxed-out skill list, all-attribute-capable Twenty Faces was born.
"Come on, scumbag." Kazawa flipped a dagger into his hand and held it out in front of him. "Let's see what kind of trash you are."
His scornful tone instantly enraged Maru Denjirou. The man stepped forward and shouted, with his warriors closing in.
"You sneaky little rat! I'll cut off your arms, your legs, your head—hang them at my gate to dry, so you understand what happens to those who challenge a daimyo!"
After that long-winded threat, Maru Denjirou's armored form exploded apart. Black sludge cracked and fell to the ground, revealing his true, twisted form.
Blade after blade—short, long, all different sizes—wrapped around the hollow floating armor like ribs. An enormous greatsword stood upright on its back, plunged into the ground.
Even more symbols of power—golden seals, helmets—hovered around the monster, dragged along by the black sludge like a web plastered with trophies.
"Ew, a spider? Gross." Kazawa grimaced and took a fighting stance. Twenty Faces let out a hoarse laugh as its black misty tendrils spread wide. "So long-winded, no real villain vibe at all. Go, Twenty Faces. Persona—!"
——
"Huh? The meeting's canceled?" Mouri Kogorou looked at the calendar, puzzled. "Didn't Maru-san say he was only available today?"
"We're really sorry, Mouri-san," came the apologetic voice of Maru Denjirou's secretary over the phone. "Last night, after dinner, Maru-san's household received multiple threatening letters. He's very on edge today and canceled all his appointments."
"Threatening letters?" Mouri Kogorou's casual tone turned serious. "Was it a direct threat to his life?"
"Ah, well, it's hard to say..." The secretary hesitated. "Some say it's just a prank, others think a business rival might be creating a smokescreen…"
"Can you give me the details?" Mouri Kogorou stood up straight, sensing the scent of a case. "Threats like that shouldn't be taken lightly."
The commotion caused by letters flying around town hadn't gone unnoticed. The secretary paused a moment, then decided not to hide it anymore. "Would it be convenient for you to receive a fax? I can send over the threatening letter. If you could help us track down the troublemaker, we'd be very grateful."
Hearing the words "threatening letter," Conan immediately perked up and quietly moved closer to Mouri Kogorou's desk, grabbing the edge to lift his head and listen in.
Mouri Kogorou, hanging up the phone, smacked Conan lightly on the forehead, just as the fax machine began printing with a noisy kachakacha.
"What's this? A calling card?" Mouri Kogorou frowned at the paper, which was clearly pieced together using clipped newspaper text.
"'Phantom Thieves of the Heart'…" Conan read out the strange signature at the bottom of the letter, peeking up persistently.
…What kind of chuunibyou declaration is this?
Conan's mouth twitched—but he still instinctively remembered the odd name.