Conan: What alias? That's my struggle!

What does it feel like to be numb?

It can be said that Lin Ye is now the most authoritative person to experience it.

He stood under the broken light bulb, the shadow falling directly on his face.

Lin Ye, still possessing some conscience, recalled that Shinichi Kudo had just been investigating a shooting in the corridor, a high school detective earnestly questioning a nurse, trying to find clues amidst the chaos. Meanwhile, Lin Ye carried the Boss's mission in his pocket, heading to the starting point where that high school student had become an elementary school student.

"This is the benefactor who saved me from danger twice!" He took a deep breath, pushed open the door to the corridor, and walked back to the ICU.

Shinichi Kudo is gone. The corridor is empty, except for two uniformed police officers sitting on chairs, one of them looking down at his phone.

Another one is yawning.

He turned and walked toward the elevator.

As he passed the nurses' station, the nurse on duty called out to him.

"Dr. Hashimoto, are you leaving?"

"Um."

"The patient who was shot..."

"I'll come back tomorrow." Lin Ye pressed the elevator button.

The elevator doors opened, he stepped inside, and then closed. His face was reflected on the mirrored stainless steel wall: twenty-four years old, wearing glasses and a white coat, looking like a normal, professional, and trustworthy doctor. But the cell phone in his pocket told him otherwise.

He is not.

As I stepped out of the hospital, the night breeze rushed towards me, carrying the salty, damp scent unique to Tokyo Bay.

"What is all this about! I didn't do it the second time!" Lin Ye stood on the steps, took off his white coat and draped it over his arm, revealing the shirt underneath.

Two uniformed police officers were smoking on the steps by the door. When they saw him come out, they looked up at him, then looked down again and did not stop him.

Officer Shiratori followed him out from inside the door.

"Dr. Hashimoto, that's about it for today. Shinichi Kudo has explained Dr. Miyagi's case to you, and the fingerprints on the suicide note and diary have been identified. They were indeed left by you in your office, but they are not directly related to the case. You can go home now, but we may need you to come back tomorrow for a formal statement."

He explained the situation.

Lin Ye nodded. "Thank you for your help."

The white bird waved its hand and turned back.

Lin Ye walked down the steps and along the sidewalk towards the parking lot. The night wind tousled his hair, but he ignored it. Shinichi Kudo had cleared him of suspicion. That high school student, after the shooting, while the police were still at the scene, had taken the time to help him close down Dr. Miyagi's case.

He didn't even tell Lin Ye, didn't ask for credit, and didn't ask for any reward. He just did the job and then went to investigate the shooting.

This guy may be a bit arrogant, but he's genuinely a good person.

"If I were to strike him with that stick, could I live with myself? Most importantly, if I become a main character, will I be able to retire smoothly?" Lin Ye opened the driver's side door, got in, and didn't start the car immediately. He gripped the steering wheel and sat in the dark car for a while.

Lin Ye recalled the voice of Shinichi Kudo that she had just heard in the corridor, a voice that was confident and stated as if stating a fact rather than asking a question.

A seventeen-year-old high school student is helping him in his own way. What he needs to do is go to that high school student's turning point in life and press that switch for him. This isn't about knocking him out or forcing him to take drugs; it's simply going to that place to do something he absolutely has to do.

Lin Ye comforted herself in this way.

He had to think about many things. The system said this world had a world will. If Shinichi Kudo hadn't been hit with that stick at that time and place, hadn't been given APTX4869, and hadn't become Conan Edogawa, what would this world be like?

The Black Organization won't be chased by a high school detective hiding in the body of a first-grader.

Shiho Miyano will not defect, the FBI will not intervene on a large scale, and the main storyline will be like a derailed train, plunging headlong into the abyss.

Therefore, the world will collapse.

"Damn it!"

After receiving the answer, Lin Ye started the car.

The sound of the engine echoed in the empty parking lot. He drove the car out of the parking lot and merged into the night traffic. The Tokyo night view flowed past the car window.

Neon lights, streetlights, car headlights—various colors of light flickered across his face. Instead of heading towards the apartment, he turned onto a more bustling street.

Most of the shops on the commercial street were still open. The lanterns of the izakayas swayed gently in the night breeze, steam from the ramen shops escaped from the gaps in the curtains, and the white lights of the convenience stores illuminated a small patch of ground in front of their doors. Lin Ye parked his car on the side of the road, got out, and walked along the sidewalk.

"Come on in for a drink, sir!"

"Would you like to try the newest tea?"

"We've got a new batch of girls here."

The surrounding area was filled with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares, including those offering "special services." Lin Ye wasn't interested; he even passed several sporting goods stores.

The shop window displays baseball gloves, shoes, sportswear, and all sorts of bats.

Those metal bats used in professional competitions are actually quite cool.

"But I can't do this to my benefactor."

Lin Ye glanced at it a few times, but didn't go in; he continued walking forward.

It's not that these things are ineffective, it's that they're too overpowered. Using those things isn't just a matter of knocking them out, it's about killing them outright.

How could he be so ungrateful?

The material Lin Ye needed couldn't be too heavy, too light, too hard, or too soft. It had to be just enough to knock a person unconscious without causing irreversible damage. The tolerance threshold of the human head and the injury grading caused by blunt instruments of different materials were so precise that they could be calculated using formulas.

When he reached the end of the street, he saw a very small general store. The storefront was small, sandwiched between a drugstore and a secondhand bookstore, and the window was cluttered with all sorts of things—toys, stationery, daily necessities, and a few baseball bats covered in dust.

Lin Ye pushed open the door and went inside, the wind chimes by the door tinkling once. There was no one in the shop, the back of the counter was empty, with only an old radio playing folk songs.

"This looks good."

Lin Ye walked thoughtfully to the shop window and picked up a baseball bat. It was made of wood, very light, and had a layer of clear varnish on the surface, which was already a bit mottled.

He held the baseball bat in his hand and weighed it; the weight was just right, even lighter than he had expected. It was about sixty centimeters long, and the thickness was just right for one hand to hold.

"Uh-huh."

Lin Ye tapped the shaft with his finger. The sound was dull. It wasn't made of hard, dense wood, but rather of a soft, cheap wood that would crack if hit too many times.

"I found what I was looking for." Lin Ye walked to the counter with the baseball bat and called out, "Boss!" An old man came out from behind the curtain. The old man looked at the baseball bat, then at Lin Ye, and said a number. Lin Ye took out some change from his wallet and placed it on the counter.

There was no bargaining.

Yes, that's it.

The "holy relic" that ushered in the Conan era!