I'm in Detective Conan, and I start with the Grand Theft Auto system.

Lin Shen drove each of them home, one by one, taking Mitsuhiko, Genta, Ayumi, and others home.

The car finally quieted down.

Only Conan and Lin Shen remained.

Conan sat in the passenger seat, looking at Lin Shen's profile with a seriousness and gravity that didn't belong to a child: "President, what exactly do you want?"

Lin Shen drove his car, the night casting shadows of varying shades across his face.

He said calmly, "I've already said it, it's for their safety."

Conan's voice turned serious: "No, you're hurting them."

Lin Shen was not angry when he heard this; instead, he laughed.

He glanced at Conan, a hint of amusement in his voice, "So, do you think I'm the one harming them, or are you?"

Conan was stunned.

He opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but the words were like a thorn stuck in his throat, and he couldn't say them no matter what.

Because he knew in his heart that it was he who took Ayumi, Genta, and Mitsuhiko to the department store.

It was he who spotted the robbers and decided to chase after them to investigate, which led everyone into danger.

He himself led those three children step by step into the line of fire.

Conan lowered his head, gripped his pants tightly with both hands, and remained silent for a very long time.

Then, filled with self-reproach, he said, "You're right, President... I'm the one who ruined them."

"I shouldn't have taken them to do such dangerous things."

Lin Shen sensed the guilt in his tone, turned her head to look at him, and then softened her voice:

"Actually, even if you don't take those three kids with you, given their personalities, they'll still cause trouble on their own."

"Your problem is that you're dragging them into trouble, but you don't have the ability to cover it up."

He spoke casually, but every word struck Conan's heart.

Conan did not respond.

He had to admit that Lin Shen was telling the truth.

Those three children were indeed very much like him, with an absurdly strong curiosity, an alarmingly energetic drive, and each one more daring than the last.

Making them stay put is worse than killing them.

He taught them so many times, warned them so many times, but they still caused countless troubles, and each time they managed to get themselves into extremely dangerous situations.

And what about yourself?

Despite possessing reasoning abilities and knowledge far exceeding those of his peers, he is ultimately just a person.

A person without a gun, without firepower, and without identity.

He can uncover the truth at the crime scene, but he can't save everyone's lives when bullets are flying.

The car slowly came to a stop downstairs at the Mori Detective Agency.

Conan unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the car door, and was about to get out when Lin Shen's voice came from behind him: "Catch."

Conan instinctively turned around and saw a dark figure flying towards him from the direction of the driver's seat.

He instinctively reached out and caught it. The moment he touched it, the heavy weight and cold metallic feel made him instantly realize what it was.

A pistol.

Conan frowned, his tone resolute: "I said, I don't need it."

Lin Shen looked at him and said, "You can live without a gun, but you can't live without one."

He paused, his tone meaningful, "If you had this gun in your pocket tonight."

"Then you don't need to call me for help at all."

You can handle everything yourself.

Conan stood by the car, holding the gun, silent.

He knew Lin Shen was right.

If he had a handgun, things wouldn't have gotten to that point tonight.

But it was precisely because he knew Lin Shen was right that he was even more conflicted.

Lin Shen smiled at his conflicted expression and added one last sentence: "Like I said, a gun is just a tool."

"When a good person holds it, it becomes a weapon to uphold justice; when a bad person holds it, it becomes a murder weapon."

"You yourself are the best example. I don't need to tell you what you'll do with it, do I?"

Conan remained silent for a long time, then tucked the gun into the inner lining of his coat and said softly, "...Thank you."

Lin Shen waved his hand, his tone returning to its usual lazy and casual tone: "No need to be polite, we're neighbors, after all."

After saying that, he stepped on the gas, and the black sedan slowly drove away into the night. The taillights turned a corner at the end of the street and disappeared from sight.

Conan watched the car's taillights disappear completely before returning to the Mouri Detective Agency.

From the second floor came the sound of Kogoro Mouri snoring and the sound of Yoko Okino's variety show being replayed on the TV.

Conan tiptoed up to the third floor and returned to his room.

He closed the door, locked it, drew the curtains, then opened his backpack, pulled out the inner compartment, carefully wrapped the gun in an old T-shirt, stuffed it inside, and weighed it down with several books.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the slightly bulging compartment of his backpack, and felt a strange, indescribable feeling.

It was a contradiction that felt both uneasy and reassuring.

Last night, Conan lay in bed, tossing and turning in his thoughts for a long time, and finally came to a conclusion.

He definitely won't need this gun!

I'm a reasoning expert, not a firepower expert!

Keeping a gun in your backpack is just for peace of mind, for a sense of security.

He decided to treat it as a talisman, preferably one he never had to use.

The next afternoon after school, Conan returned to the Mouri Detective Agency only to find that reality had given him a harsh slap in the face.

A woman was sitting on the sofa in the office.

She's chubby and looks like the kind, plump auntie next door.

Her eyes lit up when she saw Conan enter, and she stood up to greet him: "Conan! Mom's here to pick you up!"

Conan was completely stunned.

His brain seemed to have been paused for a moment, buzzing loudly.

My…Mom? Are you kidding me!

The name Conan was made up by him; where did this "mother" come from?!

He glanced at Kogoro Mouri.

This unreliable detective was sitting behind his desk, legs crossed, flipping through a newspaper, when he casually interjected, "Conan, why didn't you even say hello? You have no manners at all."

Conan roared inwardly, "Nonsense!"

I don't even know who she is, why should I greet her?!

But he is not an ordinary child after all.

He stared at the woman who called herself "Edogawa Fumiyo," his mind racing with countless thoughts.

This woman's appearance was so abrupt!

Something's wrong, something's very wrong!

Could it be that the organization has already discovered me?

Damn!

What should we do now?

Just as Conan's thoughts were racing, that hand inadvertently touched the side pocket of his backpack.

That heavy, metallic silhouette wrapped in an old T-shirt.

Conan's fingers paused slightly.

Then he felt his taut nerve, as if suddenly supported by something, slowly relax.

He took a deep breath, his heartbeat gradually calmed down, and a sentence unconsciously popped into his mind: President Lin is right!

Having a gun in your backpack and not having a gun really makes a huge difference in mindset.

He steadied himself, his face immediately adopting a typical childish expression, his lips pouting, his tone carrying a hint of coquettish complaint:

"Mom, why are you only arriving now! You didn't even call me beforehand! I've been waiting for you here for so long!"

Her voice carried a perfect balance of three parts grievance and seven parts dissatisfaction.

Seeing his reaction, Fumiyo Edogawa's smile widened. She stepped forward, ruffled his hair, and said gently, "Oh, Mom just wanted to give you a surprise!"

"Don't be angry, don't be angry. Your dad is already waiting outside. Come on, let's have a good family reunion!"

As she spoke, she took Conan's hand, turned around, and bowed sincerely to Kogoro Mouri, her voice full of gratitude:

"Mr. Mori, thank you so much for everything these past few days. My Conan must have caused you a lot of trouble, right? As his mother, I feel so bad..."

Kogoro Mouri waved his hand dismissively and said, "Oh, not at all! Conan is a pretty sensible kid. He just sometimes likes to run around and cause trouble, but he hasn't gotten me into any big trouble."

Fumiyo Edogawa smiled and exchanged a few more polite words, then took Conan's hand and turned to walk out of the Mouri Detective Agency.

Conan was led by her hand, and he obediently followed beside her.

He didn't turn back, nor did he struggle.

He was silently pondering to himself, who exactly was this so-called "Edogawa Fumiyo"? Why was she impersonating his mother?

What is her motive?

The heavy gun in his backpack was like a reassurance, giving him the confidence to face whatever was about to happen!

Conan narrowed his eyes slightly!

Come on, I want to see what kind of show you're going to put on.