Case NOT Closed

The entire room fell silent; to the point where you could even hear a pin drop.

Moments later, sparse applause began to echo from the gallery.

The applause grew louder and eventually filled the entire courtroom.

Everyone was astounded, marveling at the dramatic turn of events in this trial.

The evidence presented by Kensuke formed an irrefutable logical chain.

Moreover, this evidence came from the prosecution itself.

The outcome of this trial was now a foregone conclusion.

“…”

Seeing the tide turn, Conan’s face turned deathly pale. He looked lost and collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Strictly speaking, with his intelligence, he should have seen through this evidence.

However, as Kensuke had mentioned earlier, Conan was too focused on the scene and the logical reasoning, causing him to overlook what truly determined the murder.

Modern forensic technology is far more convincing than pure deduction.

Kotani Renzo, the mastermind behind the case, also collapsed to the ground, his legs giving way.

With the trial settled, he would face prosecution from the public prosecutor’s office for being an indirect principal offender in premeditated murder—a charge he could not escape.

“The court will now pronounce the verdict!”

“The prosecution’s request is denied. The defendant is not guilty of premeditated murder but is guilty of attempted murder.”

“Considering the defendant’s remorse and the minor nature of the crime, the court sentences her to three months of detention, suspended for three months!”

After the truth of the case was revealed, the judge and jury made this decision almost without deliberation.

“Hey, even if that’s the truth, it’s still attempted murder! Isn’t this sentence too light?”

Before the judge could leave, Heiji Hattori couldn’t help but shout, slamming the table.

Three months of detention? Three months of probation?

This punishment was practically nothing.

And it wasn’t even direct imprisonment; it was a “suspended sentence.”

She practically didn’t have to serve any time!

Unfortunately, no one paid attention to Heiji Hattori’s outburst.

The judge glanced at him and banged the gavel: “Special witness disrupting the court, repeatedly warned to no avail, now charged with obstructing justice, and expelled from the courtroom!”

Soon, judicial police officers stepped forward and, despite Heiji Hattori’s protests, escorted him out to the courtroom hallway.

Strictly speaking, Japan’s public security, prosecution, and judiciary are not entirely unified.

They have the characteristic power struggles of capitalist countries, both overt and covert, with casualties on all sides.

Although Heiji had a powerful police father, the court didn’t care about that; rules were rules.

After that, the trial ended, and the judge announced the adjournment.

The judicial police took Hiroo Tsuchio and the collapsed Kotani Renzo away, handing them over to the Metropolitan Police Department, followed by further prosecution by the public prosecutor’s office, which would announce their charges.

People began to disperse, and soon the courtroom was empty.

Only Conan remained, sitting in the special witness box with vacant eyes.

“Why, why…”

He murmured, repeating this question.

At this moment, he seemed to be covered in a layer of gray, completely devoid of the spirited confidence he once had when solving cases and identifying culprits, leaving only endless despondency and lethargy.

“Are you regretting having identified the wrong culprit?”

A familiar sharp, cutting voice rang in his ears.

Kensuke’s figure loomed over Conan, his face carrying a mocking smile, looking down on him with an air of superiority.

“Oh, did I say something wrong? You little brat, how could you possibly feel regret? You wouldn’t regret it, would you? Mistaking the culprit, wronging the good, how could that mindset be present in you?”

Conan’s body shuddered, his head lifting stiffly, his eyes dead as he stared blankly at Kensuke’s face.

“Did I really make a mistake?”

That was all he had left to say.

“No, no, no, whether you’re right or wrong doesn’t matter to me at all.”

Kensuke raised a finger and gently shook it in front of Conan.

He smiled, leaning closer, his face near Conan’s ear.

“In this case, you are a complete failure.”

“I just love seeing you look like a stray dog.”

“You’re so dedicated to your so-called justice, aren’t you? You love spouting your grand theories in front of others, don’t you?”

“Conan-kun, be even more powerless, hold on even more, and then… fail even more.”

“Hahaha!”

Kensuke laughed maniacally, taking a step back, leaving Conan’s side, and walked out of the courtroom door.

Conan said nothing.

Like a discarded statue, he stared blankly at Kensuke’s back.

He couldn’t say anything.

Because, as Kensuke said, in this case, he was a complete failure.

Before the trial, Conan had tried to think of ways to counter Kensuke’s tactics, to expose the methods he might use.

However, to his surprise, Kensuke didn’t use any conspiratorial tactics.

No tampering with evidence, no leading witnesses, no sophistry.

From start to finish, Kensuke only used straightforward tactics.

Straightforward tactics, knowing there are pitfalls, you still have to jump into them, unable to find any way to counter them.

So, he failed. He lost.

He was a complete loser.

…

Stepping out of the courtroom door, Kensuke glanced up and saw a small, familiar girl’s figure in the corridor outside.

“Hey, didn’t you say you were going to sleep in at the office and wouldn’t come?”

Kensuke greeted her with a smile.

“How could I miss such an interesting trial? I saw all your brilliant performances and Kudou’s expression of losing control from the gallery!”

Ai Haibara raised an eyebrow, a little devilish smile on her lips.

“I told you, I love watching men fight.”

“Well…”

Kensuke studied Ai Haibara carefully for a moment, clicking his tongue.

“You’re pretty sly.”

“I never said I was a good girl.”

Ai Haibara smiled.

Kensuke nodded. “So, what do you think of my performance?”

“To be honest, it made me want to laugh.”

Ai Haibara’s tongue was sharp and merciless.

“All that talk about life not being a game, how could you say that? You, who always think of everything as a game.”

“Come now, don’t say that. Can Kudou’s so-called games even compare to mine? Does he know the enmity between Link and Princess Zelda?”

“You…”

The two walked side by side, their voices fading into the distance.

After the trial, Kensuke still had to meet Natsuki Koshimizu once more.

One reason was to collect the remaining payment.

The other reason—

When he had visited Natsuki Koshimizu in the morning, there was something she seemed to have left unsaid, which had piqued his curiosity a little.