Isn't it very scientific to use the Death Note to kill people?

A powerful electric current instantly coursed through Judy's body, causing her to convulse and stiffen violently like a fish thrown ashore.

A few seconds later, Judy lost all sound.

All sound has been lost.

Curaçao calmly checked her carotid artery, and after confirming that there was no problem, she dragged her to the other corner of the console and placed her next to Naomi.

James clutched his bleeding shoulder, his face paler from blood loss and pain, but he was more concerned about the urgent mission at that moment.

He was breathing heavily and urged Curaçao, "Hurry! There's no time to waste, lest things get complicated, search for Karasuma Renya immediately!"

"I see."

Curaçao nodded and immediately returned to the control panel.

She pulled up the precious photograph of Karasuma Renya from decades ago that Rum had provided—one of the few clear images of him in his later years.

The man in the photo has a sinister look that is unsettling just to look at.

After importing the photos into the system, Curaçao took a deep breath and pressed the final Enter key.

"Final instruction executed: Search target—Karasuma Renya."

The massive computing power was mobilized once again, and the system began frantically comparing all individuals who might have an age connection with this young face.

The data stream surged across the main screen like a rushing river.

Time ticked by, and James stared intently at the screen, seemingly forgetting even the sharp pain in his shoulder for the moment.

A moment later, the search was completed.

What appeared on the screen stunned both James and Curaçao—

The main subject of the photos is invariably a baby who looks to be only a little over one year old, sitting in various kinds of strollers.

Consistent certification across age groups!

"This...this—"

Seeing this result, James seemed to completely forget the pain in his shoulder, staring at the scene in astonishment.

Chapter 104: You have more backup plans than you know yourself.

James Black stared intently at the photos of baby strollers on the main screen, his mind a jumbled mess, even temporarily forgetting the sharp pain throbbing in his shoulder.

"This...this?"

He muttered to himself, his voice trembling with blood loss and disbelief, "The system...is there a glitch? Turning into a baby? How is this possible?!"

No matter how miraculous the effects of APTX-4869 were, the shocking fact that he could be transformed from a frail old man back into a helpless infant caught him completely off guard.

It's not that I can't believe it, but that I find it hard to accept.

Because the greatest enemy he had imagined countless times in his mind was the dark leader who had built the Black Organization with unlimited wealth and had lasted for half a century, no amount of fear could be too much for James.

The only thing that shouldn't be the image of a harmless baby is.

This is too outrageous. He is more inclined to believe that the system made some absurd misjudgment during the massive data comparison.

"Investigate...investigate that old woman!"

Unable to confirm the result, James's voice turned somber. He urgently ordered Curaçao, trying to find a flaw in the system, "Search for this recurring woman; she couldn't have just appeared out of thin air!"

Curaçao silently carried out the instructions.

She imported the clearest close-up of the old woman's face from several screenshots into the system and started facial recognition and comparison with a global database.

The system started operating at high speed again.

However, this time the result plunged James into an even deeper silence.

[Age verification matches]

A cold, impersonal message appeared on the screen.

However, the results were exactly the same as those of Karasuma Renya's tracking—photos or videos from the exact same surveillance angle, and every single photo showed a stroller.

There are no other records.

The results of cross-age tracking should have also revealed what the person looked like when they were younger.

However, how could a living person, especially one who frequently appears around the world and accompanies such an important target, possibly leave no trace in all databases?

unless……

James looked at the kind yet unfamiliar face of the old woman on the screen and immediately guessed the only possibility.

Disguise.

This is the only explanation that makes sense.

This old woman doesn't exist at all. The reason she appears is simply to protect and care for the baby who has been identified by the system as "Karasuma Renya".

Based on this, the test results actually further confirm the fact that Karasuma Renya has turned into a baby.

James remained silent for a moment, and after accepting the fact, a mixture of fear, greed, and ambition surged in his eyes.

In any case, he finally found it—he found it, and it was enough to overturn the entire Black Organization and even leverage the world.

He could almost imagine the turmoil that would rage within Rum and the organization’s most unruly members when they learned that Karasuma Renya, whom they were loyal to and feared, was now just an infant.

Of course, he couldn't do that.

James couldn't help but curl a twisted smile into a grin. "A boss who needs a babysitter... Heh... Hahahaha..."

Curaçao took in his reaction.

However, she remained silent, but her fingers had already completed the final operation on the keyboard—packing all the records about Karasuma Renya and the old woman, along with the content of the previous search for Edogawa Conan and the other two, and sending it out.

After calming his excited and complicated emotions, James watched Curaçao's movements and, enduring the pain in his shoulder, ordered in a hoarse voice, "Alright, erase all the operation records and access logs from tonight. Don't leave any trace."

"clear."

Curaçao responded briefly, immediately invoking a special program developed within the organization specifically for erasing data.

On the main screen, all previous search history, data streams, temporary files, and even system logs were irreversibly and quickly overwritten and destroyed, leaving only a blank screen.

Looking at the now clean system interface, James began to quickly think about how to clean up the mess.

He glanced up at the security camera in the corner—Curaçao had already used his access to temporarily disable it before the operation even began.

His gaze then fell on the unconscious Judy and Naomi, feeling the throbbing pain in his shoulder blades.

James made a decision quickly.

He looked at Curaçao, his tone leaving no room for argument: "Next, I'll need you to take Judy out and get rid of her."

"clear."

Curaçao nodded.

James couldn't help but admire her capable and decisive demeanor—Rum certainly had an excellent subordinate who obeyed orders so perfectly.

"Remember, do not commit any acts inside the facility; take them outside. Leaving bloodstains or bodies here will make subsequent investigations very difficult."

James added.

Curaçao said no more. She stood up briskly and walked to Judy's side. She first quickly checked the surroundings to make sure that Judy's personal belongings were not forgotten, and then skillfully helped Judy's limp body up, letting her lean against her, as if she were supporting a colleague who was feeling unwell.

She supported Judy and steadily walked towards the side door of the control room.

To avoid drawing attention, Curaçao found a handcart that was usually used to transport equipment or miscellaneous items in the storage room of the passageway.

She carefully placed Judy on the trolley, covering her with some dust cloths and cardboard boxes to make it look like she was transporting odds and ends.

After disguising herself, she pushed the cart calmly toward the drainage outlet of the Pacific buoy, which was the very passage that Amuro Tooru and Vermouth had used to kidnap Naomi. Even now, this route was still very useful.

After confirming that Curaçao had left with Judy, James was left alone in the control room, looking at the unconscious Naomi as he calculated the time.

almost.

He took a deep breath, straightened his disheveled suit with his uninjured hand, and tried to make his expression look panicked and anxious.

He reached out and pressed the prominent red emergency alarm button on the control panel without hesitation!

Woo-woo-woo!

In an instant, the piercing alarm shattered the tranquility of the Pacific buoy in the dead of night, and red warning lights flashed wildly throughout the main control room and the entire facility!

James, clutching his bleeding shoulder, slowly slid down to the ground from the control panel, his face displaying a perfectly balanced expression of pain and weakness, waiting for the crowd drawn by the alarm.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The cold night wind, carrying the salty smell of the sea, rushed towards me.

As they sped away from the Pacific buoy aboard the pre-prepared speedboat, Curaçao quickly switched the speedboat to automatic navigation mode and set a coordinate far from the usual route.

She glanced back at Judy, who was still completely unconscious, then took out her phone, quickly typed a short message, and sent it.

After the message was successfully sent, she immediately cleared the sending record and then dialed Rum's encrypted line.

The call was answered almost instantly.

"Lord Rum, I have now left that facility."

Curaçao's voice was calm and even, as if he were reporting on a routine task.

"Curaçao".

Rum's voice came through the receiver, tinged with barely suppressed excitement and a short, labored breath, "You did a great job! Absolutely fantastic!"

Before Curaçao left the control room, he had already received the tracking results about Karasuma Renya from the other party.

"I see...that explains it!"

Rum's voice rose slightly with excitement, "Why has that gentleman never shown his face since then, and all instructions have been transmitted only through encrypted email... So this is what happened?!"

He let out a low, excited sneer.

The laughter was filled with ecstasy and the ambition to seize power.

That man is now more powerless and more vulnerable than he imagined!

He carefully examined the most recent locations marked in the system results—Japan, Tokyo, Beika… His gaze was fixed on the old woman who appeared repeatedly in the screenshots.

Vermouth...!

A fierce glint flashed in Rum's single eye.

It can only be her, and it will only be her!

That woman, deeply trusted by the BOSS, who possesses the skill of disguise!

He effortlessly equated the old woman with Vermouth.

In his view, no one but Vermouth could approach Karasuma Renya, who had turned into an infant, so closely and secretly—and that was why Karasuma Renya had always been so patient with Vermouth.

Karasuma Renya's current state must be due to some fatal deviation in the early experiments or subsequent applications of APTX-4869.

Rum, who had guessed this, didn't care and was even somewhat gloating.

With Vermouth's successful case as a precedent, and now with the three genuine cases of Shinichi Kudo, Sherry, and Mary Sera... Karasuma Renya is probably in a bad state.

Rum recalled the deaths of the Miyano couple and speculated that perhaps they had tampered with the drugs, leading to the BOSS's accident.

It's okay though...

Sherry has been found. As long as we control her and let her continue her research to resolve the final flaws, she will soon have perfect mastery of this power!

In the dimly lit room, the cold light from the computer illuminated Rum's ambitious face.

What right does a baby boss who needs a nanny to take care of him have to lead a huge organization?

The plan to usurp the throne gradually became clear in his mind.

At that moment, Curaçao's voice interrupted his thoughts:

"Sir Rum, what should we do with that FBI agent?"

Rum's thoughts were pulled back, and he spoke almost without thinking: "Just kill him, throw the body into the sea, and clean it up."

"clear."

Curaçao gave a brief response.