I'm in Conan, I'm not a gangster

Chapter 757 Slap
After swiftly and cleanly taking Colonel Moran and his gang to the ground, Shiraishi brushed off non-existent dust from her hands.

He strode over to Colonel Moran, who was slumped on the ground clutching his chest, and looked down at him, asking again, "Alright, the nuisances are all gone. Now, can you tell me where Moriarty is?"

Colonel Moran gritted his teeth, his face contorted with pain and filled with stubbornness. He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and said fiercely, "Don't even think about it! I will never betray the professor! If I do, he will never let me go... or anyone around me!"

"Ha," Shiraishi E scoffed, as if she had heard an extremely ridiculous joke. "He won't let you go? Do you think I would let you go? He can kill your whole family, so why can't I?"

This blatant, street-thug-like threat, coming from the mouth of someone bearing the title "Sherlock Holmes," left Colonel Moran momentarily stunned.

His eyes widened as if he were seeing this person for the first time. This was completely different from the consulting detective he knew, who, although difficult, always adhered to certain gentlemanly principles!
When did Sherlock Holmes become so...savage and unscrupulous?
Just as the atmosphere reached a stalemate and Colonel Moran found himself in a difficult position, Conan, who had been observing silently from the sidelines, spoke up to break the deadlock.

His gaze fell on the main seat at the gambling table, where an opened bottle of fine red wine and a clean wine glass sat.

He walked over, picked up the bottle, carefully examined the label, and then looked around at the relatively private spot. A sudden idea flashed into his mind.

“Colonel Moran,” Conan said in his characteristically childlike yet calm voice, “this bottle of 1850 Lafite, and this quiet spot with an excellent view… I’m afraid it wasn’t prepared for you, was it?”

"If I'm not mistaken, this seat and this bottle of fine wine are waiting for a distinguished guest—Professor Moriarty, aren't they?"

Colonel Moran's expression changed drastically. His lips moved, and he was about to deny it sternly when the club's heavy back door creaked open.

An elderly butler, dressed in a sharp black suit, with his silver hair neatly combed and a composed demeanor, slowly walked in.

He seemed oblivious to the mess and groaning thugs, his gaze falling directly on Shiraishi E and Conan. He bowed slightly and said in a clear and respectful tone, "Mr. Holmes, Mr. Watson, the professor is waiting for you. Please follow me."

What a twist!

A glint of excitement flashed in Conan's eyes, and he quickly exchanged a "I knew it" look with Shiraishi E.

Ignoring Colonel Moran's ashen face, the two followed the old butler and quietly left the noisy club through the back door.

Outside the back door was a narrow, quiet alley, where a luxuriously decorated carriage pulled by two fine horses stood quietly.

The curtains of the carriage were drawn, and a figure could be vaguely seen sitting inside.

The butler walked to the carriage, bowed slightly, and respectfully said to the old man in the carriage, "Professor, the two gentlemen you wish to see have arrived."

Conan's gaze was sharp as an eagle's. He quickly scanned the hands of the butler and the old man—the old butler's fingers were long and clean, with neatly trimmed nails, a typical intellectual.

The old man's hands were rough and strong, with large knuckles covered in calluses—marks left from years of driving the reins.

One spends his days writing or serving others, while the other spends his days dealing with horses and reins; the difference is obvious.

Conan's lips curled into a slight smile, already realizing that this was nothing more than Moriarty's little trick to create a diversion.

He was about to speak, using his meticulous reasoning to ruthlessly expose the stand-in act, when Shiraishi E beside him preemptively took a more "direct" action.

He didn't bother with any nonsense and directly shouted at the "old man" in the carriage: "Moriarty! You should know the whereabouts of Jack the Ripper, right? Tell me honestly, and I might consider sparing you from physical punishment!"

Conan panicked upon hearing this and quickly tugged at Shiraishi E's sleeve, desperately trying to signal to him not to alert her and to test the waters first.

Shiraishi E simply gave him a look that said, "Don't worry, just watch my performance," and continued to do as she pleased.

The old man in the carriage seemed taken aback by the sudden, rude question, then let out a low laugh and, mimicking Moriarty's usual mocking tone, said, "Holmes, I've heard so much about you."

"But when did you learn to be so... violent? That's hardly gentlemanly." "Haha!" Shiraishi E burst into laughter, the sound particularly jarring in the quiet alley. "Because I've discovered that reasoning with people like you is a complete waste of time! Sometimes, fists are more effective than logical reasoning!! Enough nonsense, where is Jack the Ripper?"

The old man seemed to have calmed down a bit, and continued in a deliberately profound tone, "You want to know his whereabouts? Sure. But valuable information needs to be exchanged for something of equal value; that's the rule..."

The moment he finished speaking the word "rules," Shiraishi E leaned forward, her hand swiftly reaching into the carriage like an iron clamp, grabbing the old man's collar, and roughly pulling him out of the comfortable carriage amidst his gasp!

Shiraishi E narrowed her eyes dangerously, staring down at the "old man" whose face had turned pale with fright. Her tone was icy cold: "Exchange? Rules? Old man, I don't think you understand the situation yet!"

"Who do you think you're negotiating with? Huh? You're just a piece of meat on the chopping block! What right do you have to negotiate with me?!"

The overwhelming, undisguised murderous aura made the old man tremble, his legs spinning.

He stared in horror at the fierce-looking, rude "Sherlock Holmes" before him, his mind going completely blank.

This was completely different from the calm, collected, and intelligent detective he had heard about!

That look in his eyes, that aura—he'd believe it if you told him the man was Jack the Ripper himself, the ruthless killer!
Shiraishi looked at the other person's trembling body and fear-filled face, and sneered, her tone full of disdain: "With your cowardice, you call yourself Moriarty? The Napoleon of the criminal world? Bah!"

With that, he slapped the old man hard across the face and demanded, "Tell me! Where is Jack the Ripper?!"

"I...I don't know..." the old man said, covering his face and his voice trembling with tears.

"Slap!" Another, even harder slap landed. "Don't know? I'll give you one more chance. Reorganize your words!"

"I really don't know!!" The old man completely broke down and screamed in terror.

"Don't know? If you don't know, who does?! You won't tell me, huh? Then I'll beat you until you open your mouth! Let's see if your mouth is tougher or my slap is tougher!!" Without saying another word, Shiraishi E began to slap him repeatedly.

The slaps were loud and clear.

Beside him, the old butler, who had been silently observing, finally turned completely grim, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

He could no longer maintain his submissive servant demeanor. He took a step forward and shouted in a deep but undeniably authoritative voice, "Stop! Holmes! Enough!"

“I know you figured it out long ago. He’s not Professor Moriarty at all; he’s just my coachman!”

Shiraishi E paused in her hand movements, her face instantly contorting into an extremely exaggerated expression of "surprise." Releasing her grip, she exclaimed as if suddenly realizing something, "Huh? So he's not Moriarty? Why didn't you say so sooner? Look at the mess this has made..."

He shoved the poor coachman, whose face was swollen and who was still in shock, back into the carriage as if he were throwing away trash.

Then he turned around, a harmless, even slightly apologetic smile on his face, and said to Professor Moriarty, who had finally revealed his true form, "Sorry, sorry, I mistook you for someone else and went a little too far. Please forgive me, Professor Moriarty."

Professor Moriarty's expression was stern, and he was about to say something, perhaps a rebuke, or perhaps a real deal.

However, the next second——

Shiraishi E's figure moved again, like a ghost!
He closed in instantly with superhuman speed, and the "apology" smile he had just worn vanished, replaced by an even colder and more ruthless expression!

He reached out with lightning speed and grabbed Professor Moriarty's collar again, pulling him sharply in front of him until their noses almost touched.

“Now that we’ve found the right person,” Shiraishi E stared at the other’s pupils, which had contracted in shock, and said, word by word, her tone filled with an undeniable sense of pressure: “Then… I’ll go through the trouble and ask again. Where is Jack the Ripper?”

(End of this chapter)