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

Lin Shen stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor of the villa, staring blankly at the neatly trimmed lawn outside for a while.

To be honest, even after living here for several days, he still wasn't quite used to it.

The villa was so big that he felt like he was shopping in a mall after walking a few steps inside.

The living room had a high ceiling of five or six meters, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, shining brightly. The living room alone was twice the size of the hotel suite he used to stay in.

He looked at the pine tree in the yard, which was pruned like a bonsai, and felt a mix of emotions that were hard to describe.

He couldn't help but click his tongue, feeling that he looked exactly like one of those successful people portrayed on TV—wearing casual clothes, standing in front of a large French window, gazing into the distance!

These were all achieved through my own hard work!

Although the way I'm putting in this effort is a bit different from others.

Cheng Jianxun put down his coffee and leisurely strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up.

On the washstand were a row of new toothbrushes and towels that Mingmei had prepared, and even a mouthwash cup, the kind with a high-quality frosted glass.

After washing up, he went downstairs to the dining room.

Breakfast was already set on the table.

Toast, fried eggs, bacon, salad, a small bowl of fruit, and a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Mingmei is always meticulous in her work. She prepares a different breakfast every day, and the portion size is just right—not too much, not too little.

Lin Shen pulled out a chair, sat down, picked up the remote, turned on the TV hanging on the wall of the restaurant, and tuned it to the news channel.

The morning news is playing on TV.

The female anchor, dressed in a well-fitting business suit, read today's headlines at a steady pace.

The car chase and shooting incident in Beika Town is still under investigation. The police have not yet released the identity of the suspect and have established a special task force.

Lin Shen took a bite of toast, chewed it a couple of times, and felt that the bacon was fried to perfection today, with slightly crispy edges, and the aroma of the oil exploded in his mouth when he bit into it.

He leaned back in his chair, eating breakfast while watching the news on TV, feeling quite comfortable.

After finishing breakfast, he wiped his mouth, stood up, and prepared to go out.

He stopped in his tracks as he passed the gym entrance.

Treadmills, dumbbell racks, bench presses, resistance bands—all kinds of equipment were provided, brand new, gleaming with a cold sheen under the lights.

Lin Shen stood at the door, hesitated for about three seconds, and then his mind and body engaged in a fierce dialogue:

The brain says, "How about... we just skip it today? We worked out yesterday, so taking a day off isn't too much to ask, is it?"

The body says, "Agreed."

The brain then said, "Besides, I have important business to attend to today. I need to check on the coffee shop; time is tight."

The body says, "I completely agree."

The brain finally concluded: "Then let's not practice anymore, let's go."

Lin Shen nodded, finding the conclusion very reasonable, and turned to leave.

But he took a step and then stopped.

The scene from a few nights ago suddenly flashed through his mind.

The scene depicted him mounting a Gatling gun on the rear windshield and firing wildly at the Suzuki family's armored vehicle.

He knew the weight of the Gatling gun; it was a lump of iron weighing dozens of kilograms. If he hadn't propped the gun against the car window frame and tried to lift it up and fire it himself, his hand would probably have gone limp after a few seconds of firing, the muzzle would have drifted, and all the bullets would have flown into the air.

And that MP5, although much lighter than the Gatling gun, still made my wrist ache after firing two magazines in a row.

He looked down at his arms, then at the gym equipment, and sighed deeply.

He doesn't want to train. He's not the diligent type; he's lazy, incredibly lazy. He'd rather lie down than sit, and sit than stand. Getting him to lift weights on his own initiative is like asking him to die!

But the problem is, if he doesn't train his strength, he won't even be able to hold a gun steadily in the future, so having a lot of guns will be useless!

Lin Shen cursed this damn system in his mind—it doesn't even sell attribute points!

In other games, at least you can add some strength or agility, but you're completely stingy. You want me to become stronger by training all by myself?

After mentally cursing the system's ancestors for eighteen generations, he finally stepped into the gym with a dark face and reluctance.

He walked to the dumbbell rack, bent down and picked up a pair of dumbbells that didn't look that heavy, weighed them in his hand, and then began to do some basic bicep curls.

After finishing one set, I went to the bench press and lay down, then did a few more sets of barbell exercises.

He grimaced and grimaced as he did it, cursing with every move, but he persevered and finished the entire training session.

When he came out of the gym, drenched in sweat, his arms were trembling slightly, as if he had been beaten up.

He leaned against the wall, panting heavily, and silently vowed in his heart, "I will definitely not practice tomorrow."

Then he added in his mind, "Never mind, let's talk about tomorrow's problems tomorrow."

After taking a shower and changing into clean clothes, Lin Shen felt as if he had finally come back to life.

He went out, rode the motorcycle he had gotten for free from the system, and drove along the street towards Beika Town 5-chome.

After riding for about seven or eight minutes, he stopped his bike on the side of a commercial street.

He looked up at the sign in front of him—221B Cafe.

Lin Shen stood at the door and looked around the shop. His first impression was indeed good.

The storefront has a classic British style.

The dark green door frame is paired with gold lettering for the sign. The shop window glass is spotless, and warm yellow light shines through it. There is also a small blackboard at the entrance, on which the recommended coffee varieties for the day are written in chalk.

It's not one of those haphazardly decorated trendy shops; you can tell they put thought into it.

He pushed open the door, and the bell on the door rang out with a clear "ding-a-ling".

The restaurant isn't very big; it can probably seat five or six tables of customers.

The store's interior design follows a British retro style, with dark wood floors, dark green wainscoting, Sherlock Holmes-themed decorative paintings hanging on the walls, and hardcover detective novels on the bookshelves.

Behind the bar, the entire wall is covered with various coffee bean containers and brewing equipment, which does give it a certain style.

Akemi was standing behind the bar, wearing a dark brown apron and her hair was tied up, looking more capable than she had in the hotel suite.

She saw Lin Shen push the door open and enter, a smile spreading across her face. She put down her glass, stepped out from behind the bar, and gave a slight bow: "Mr. Lin, you've arrived."

Lin Shen nodded, glanced around the store, and couldn't help but mentally give Mingmei a thumbs up for her efficiency.

In just a few days, the shop has already taken shape.

When he walked to the bar and saw the prices on the menu, he was stunned for a moment, almost thinking he was seeing things.

The most basic "221B Classic Hand-Drip Coffee" costs 2.21 yen per cup.

The advanced version, "The Final Case Special," costs 21.1 yen per cup.

Below is a smaller line of text: VIP Exclusive, reservations required one month in advance. The coffee cup is a sterling silver replica of a Best Watson pocket watch. The cup is yours after you finish drinking, and comes with a numbered certificate.

Lin Shen was silent for a few seconds, then turned to look at Mingmei, his face full of astonishment: "21 yen for a cup of coffee? Anyone would buy that?"

Mingmei covered her mouth and chuckled, saying, "There's a high chance no one will sell them, but... how can we launder money easily if we don't raise the price a bit?"

"Moreover, we are taking a high-end approach, focusing on 'emotional value' and 'social currency'."

"Look at the Poirot Cafe across the street, a cup of coffee only costs a few hundred yen, they make money by selling in large quantities."

"We're different; we sell stories. 'Beans cultivated from the descendants of the coffee trees in the backyard of Sherlock Holmes' house,' 'Limited global supply each year,' 'Each cup takes 2 hours and 21 minutes to hand-drip'... "

After listening, Lin Shen remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

He understood.

The more expensive the coffee, the easier it is to generate revenue and launder money.

Moreover, her marketing model is just like those of high-end luxury brands.

It's not illegal at all.

"You're really something," Lin Shen said sincerely, then walked to a window seat and sat down.

He crossed his legs, glanced at the menu, then looked up at Akemi and said, "Then give me a cup of that 21.1 yen 'Last Case Coffee,' and see how good it really is."

Mingmei smiled and nodded: "Okay, please wait a moment."

She turned and walked back to the bar to start preparing the brew.

Her movements were fluid; from grinding to pouring water, she was focused on every step, and she certainly looked like a professional barista.

Lin Shen sat by the window, looking at the sign of Poirot Cafe across the street through the glass, and suddenly felt a little amused.

The two detective-themed cafes in the Conan world are now located across the street from each other. I wonder if they will start any kind of business competition in the future.

He turned to look at the Sherlock Holmes-themed decorative paintings in the store, then his gaze fell on Akemi behind the bar.

Akemi was focused on making coffee by hand, the steam rising in front of her. She had her head down, and the lines of her profile looked soft in the warm yellow light.

Watching this scene, he thought to himself—this woman is truly a treasure.

Capable, intelligent, knows how to behave appropriately, and good-looking too!!