Conan: I'm really not the mastermind behind the scenes

Amnesia.

The human body is the most sophisticated and mysterious existence. Sometimes, even if the body is not injured, the great mental pain can still trigger the defense mechanism and bury those bad memories in the deepest part of the consciousness.

In the past few years, in order to restore his memory, Daizo Eto has consulted a psychologist more than once and received treatment many times, but to no avail.

But now, he remembered.

——In the worst situation, he finally remembered the hellish day thirteen years ago...

……

Thirteen years ago.

We are now in the transition period from spring to summer, the temperature is pleasant, and for ventilation, the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the courtyard in the villa's living room have all been opened.

Eto Daizo, who is currently in the second grade of elementary school, sat at the dining table, feeling the cool breeze blowing in from the window. He was eating lunch, and when he heard his mother's words, he looked up in disbelief.

"You mean Dad can't attend my campus activities again this time?"

"Yes. He is investigating a very important case recently. I am afraid he will not be able to spare the time these days."

Mrs. Jiang Teng looked at her son and saw his eyes full of resentment. She comforted him in a gentle voice, "It's okay, Da Zang. Mom will participate. I will videotape your performance and show it to your father."

Eto Daizo lowered his head and said nothing.

He continued to eat his rice, much faster than before. He didn't take a single bite of the vegetables but just kept eating the rice, as if he was secretly competing with some invisible person.

Mrs. Eto looked at him like this, sighed silently, and said nothing more to persuade him.

There were quite a few dishes on the table, which was the lunch she had carefully prepared, but there were only two of them sitting at the table, making it seem a little deserted.

The seat opposite Eto Daizo was also empty.

That was his father's place.

……

The Eto family is a family of three.

But since Eto Daizo could remember, his father's presence always seemed rare. He was not at home on weekdays - often coming back after Eto Daizo had gone to bed, and leaving the next day before he got up - and he was rarely at home even on weekends.

Even if I am at home one day, I often receive a phone call suddenly and then disappear again.

From childhood to adulthood, from kindergarten to second grade of elementary school, he only participated in his entrance ceremony once. The rest of the time, only his mother accompanied him.

"Why is Dad always so busy?" he asked his mother more than once.

And his mother always explained it gently over and over again.

"Your dad is doing important work."

"——A very, very important job. Da Zang, it's not that your father doesn't want to go home, it's not that he doesn't want to be with you... It's just that for this country, for the happiness of more people, he has to travel abroad."

"He loves you no less than I do."

really?
Does his father really love him the same as his mother does?

Eto Daizo had doubts more than once.

……

After lunch, Eto Daizo turned on the TV.

His mother was washing dishes in the kitchen not far away. The sound of running water and the TV echoed in the room.

On the screen, a reporter was introducing an art exhibition held recently, with exquisite oil paintings of people in the background.

After briefly introducing the background, the reporter walked over to a middle-aged man and said, "This is the organizer of the exhibition, and also a well-known domestic art dealer, Mr. Ohki. Hello, Mr. Ohki, I heard that all the works on display this time are from your personal collection?"

The chubby organizer nodded and smiled at the camera: "Yes, they are all treasures that I personally collected from various art exhibitions in various countries."

"Based on my observation just now, many of these works are unfamiliar. They don't seem to be award-winning masterpieces or works by famous painters?" the reporter asked.

The host nodded again. He turned his head and looked at a large oil painting that almost took up the entire wall. "In fact, most of them are from ordinary painters who are unknown. But in my opinion, their level is no worse than those masterpieces..."

The reporter was listening attentively, but halfway through, the other side suddenly fell silent.

The art dealer who was proudly introducing his collection just a second ago suddenly turned red in the face, like an angry bull. He shook off the reporter and walked quickly in that direction:
"Kubota! How many times have I told you to wear gloves before touching a painting!!"

His back had already left the camera, but his roar could still be heard from afar. The reporter silently took back the microphone that was hanging in the air, raised it to his lips again, and smiled as if nothing had happened just now: "Okay, thank you Mr. Oki for the introduction, now let's interview other people..."

Daizo Eto was unable to continue watching the rest of the interview.

His mother poked her head out of the kitchen and said, "Da Zang, stop watching TV and go upstairs to do your homework. You have to go to cram school at 2pm."

"it is good."

Jiang Teng Daizo responded weakly. He turned off the TV, threw the remote control on the sofa, and walked to the second floor.

Going up to the second floor, his bedroom was the first room at the staircase. When he was about to push the door open, his eyes fell on the wooden nameplate at the door and his steps paused slightly.

"…This is your name that your father wrote with you while holding your hand when you were a child and just learned to hold a pen."

"I think it's very meaningful, so I asked someone to carve it on a wooden board. When you grow up and can sleep alone at night, hang it on the door of your room."

In the past, when he asked his mother why there was such a sign hanging on the door of his bedroom, his mother smiled happily and explained to him like this with a smile.

"..."

Looking at the crooked and ugly words on it that were too ugly to read, Jiang Teng Daizo turned his eyes away speechlessly, muttering, "What's so good about commemorating this kind of thing..."

"Ding dong."

Just then, the doorbell rang suddenly.

Jiang Teng Daizo felt his heart suddenly beat, as if someone had hit him hard in the heart. He stopped again and looked downstairs.

The stairs of his house are right next to the entrance on the first floor. Standing at the stairs on the second floor, you can see people coming down.

"Ding dong. Ding dong."

The person outside the door might be an impatient person. After a few seconds, he became impatient and pressed the button a few more times.

"..."

Eto Daizo stayed where he was and did not go downstairs. He saw his mother hurriedly walking towards him from the end of the corridor. She wiped her hands on her apron as she walked, with the same confused look on her face as his.

"Who is it?" he couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know. No one said they were coming today..."

His mother took the time to respond and walked over to open the door.

The door opened. Standing at the door was a foreign teenager.

When Jiang Teng Daizo saw the other person's face clearly, he couldn't help but be stunned.

The sunlight shines through the open door and falls on the slightly curly black hair. Spring takes root in those eyes, and there is a smile in the bright green.

For a moment, Eto Daizo couldn't tell whether there was a living person standing there, or the handsome boys in the oil paintings he had just seen came into reality.

"good afternoon."

The foreign boy greeted him first, then pouted his lips and began to complain: "You guys didn't open the door just now, my brother and I thought you guys went out, and we were thinking about running back later. You made us wait so long, come earlier next time."

There was accusation in the boy's words, but his tone also had a kind of sticky and coquettish feeling - for example, he actually called his brother "Oni-chan", the kind of address that only children or young girls would use.

Mrs. Jiang Teng's tense shoulders relaxed a little, and she became even more confused: "Excuse me, who are you...?"

The next words came to an abrupt end.

The young man seemed to be completely unconcerned about the stunned, painful, and twisted face of the woman in front of him, and he pulled the fruit knife out of her abdomen as if nothing had happened.

The smell of blood spread in the air, and the boy touched his chin with his clean hand, as if pondering the right words.

"We are revenge... oh, no."

He paused, then corrected himself—

"We are here for revenge."

----

I have an exam next Sunday, I hope I can pass it in one try...

These chapters are written in a messy way, I just squeezed them in time to write them, I will revise them appropriately after the exams. (End of this chapter)