14. Severe Child Obsession
Conan had no idea he had earned the grudges of his close friend because he was still reeling from the shock of instantaneous teleportation.
“I just blinked, and suddenly I was in Shibuya after being in Mihua? That’s just too incredible!” Conan couldn’t contain his excitement as he grabbed Kisaragi Fumin’s hand and shook it. “Coach, I want to learn this too!”
Conan couldn’t even imagine how exhilarating it would be if he mastered this technique! Then, a tiny Gin and his subordinate Vodka would be nothing but easy prey.
“Want to learn, huh? Hmm, it’s not impossible...”
Kisaragi Fumin didn’t refuse. Instead, he appraised Conan from head to toe, furrowing his brows deeply in thought, which only heightened Conan’s anticipation.
“Just tell me quickly. As long as I can learn it, I’m willing to do anything.”
“Alright, since you’re so eager, I’ll tell you.”
Kisaragi Fumin spoke slowly, “Your current body lacks a spiritual vein. If you want to embark on the path of cultivation, you’ll have to switch to a new body.”
Conan was dumbfounded. “Switch bodies? That’s impossible, right?”
“Not at all. With my spiritual awareness now, extracting your soul and placing it into a new vessel is more than doable.”
Kisaragi Fumin explained calmly, “But the new body has its requirements. The best are spiritual bodies nurtured by heaven and earth, but that’s practically unattainable. So there’s another method... Conan, would your mother mind giving birth to you again?”
“Wait, why are you asking that? What do you mean ‘give birth again’? Sounds like a ghost story.”
Kisaragi Fumin said, “Using the blood and bone of your closest kin to reconstruct a body suitable for spiritual incarnation, then inserting your soul to be reborn—this can alter your fate. You can think of it as being reforged in the furnace. All you have to do is convince your mother to have you again. How’s that sound, Conan?”
Conan’s mouth twitched uncontrollably. “No way! If I even dared to ask her that, I wouldn’t have a mother anymore! Maybe I wouldn’t be alive either!”
“If that’s the price for cultivation, even if you beat me to death, I won’t learn it!”
“Don’t you want to reconsider? I once obtained a manual called ‘Sky Devouring Technique’ from a Face Child. If you can comprehend it, then after about two hundred years of cultivation, you’ll be able to tear through space and teleport anytime, anywhere.”
Conan’s eyes nearly popped out. “Two hundred years? That long? I’m afraid by the time I learn it, my bones will have turned to dust!”
“That’s nothing. Cultivators don’t count years. The stronger your cultivation, the longer you live. Two hundred years is a blink of an eye; even my longest meditative retreat took longer.”
But he was just a normal high school detective! Living alone for two hundred years would surely drive anyone insane.
Conan looked at Kisaragi Fumin’s calm expression and finally grasped how unreliable he was. Swallowing a thousand curses, he asked a burning question that had been on his mind: “So, how old are you now?”
That question actually stumped Kisaragi Fumin.
“I’ve never kept an exact record of my age,” he pondered briefly and gave a rough estimate. “If you don’t count this dimension, I should be around twenty thousand years old.”
“Twenty thousand?”
Conan was speechless with shock. “Back then, my ancestors were still apes...”
“We are a long-lived clan. Though not immortal, living through several cosmic cycles is no problem.”
“You’re not human? Then what are you...?”
“Enough of that,” Kisaragi Fumin cleared his throat and steered the conversation back. “Conan, I’ll ask you one last time: Do you really not want to cultivate?”
“The path of immortality is profound and unfathomable. Once your cultivation is powerful enough, beauty, wealth, power, and longevity will all be within your grasp.”
He asked seriously, one hand resting on Conan’s head, lowering his golden eyes in a way that made Conan’s body and soul tremble uncontrollably.
He even suspected that if he dared to nod, Kisaragi Fumin would immediately obliterate him with magic.
Indeed, cultivation had countless benefits. Even ignoring exceptional power, mere longevity would attract countless seekers. But as soon as Conan thought of the price to pay, any burgeoning desire vanished instantly.
“All my loved ones gone, only I remain. Even if I live as long as the heavens, undefeated in this world, I’d be nothing but a walking corpse!”
Conan lifted his head, looked at Kisaragi Fumin resolutely, and said, “I will not cultivate.”
He had expected dissatisfaction from Kisaragi Fumin but was surprised when the other smiled in approval, a hint of admiration shining in his golden eyes.
“Though you give up for your family’s sake, resisting all temptations shows a rare firmness of heart. A flawless white wall may have slight imperfections, but it does not diminish its beauty.”
“Sadly, I have offered you three invitations, all refused, so you have no fate with the path of immortals.”
Kisaragi Fumin spoke with rare sincerity and regret. “But with your spirit, even if you don’t walk this path, your future achievements won’t be low.”
Coming back to his senses from the shock and realizing he had been praised, Conan proudly puffed out his chest. “Of course! I’ll become a famous detective like Holmes someday!”
Nevertheless, Conan couldn’t help but feel regret at losing all chance of mastering immortal arts—after all, a detective who could teleport would never miss a single case. That would be insanely cool!
Maybe he could try to negotiate again? At least get a few more trials?
While Conan was pondering how to bring it up, Kisaragi Fumin suddenly said coldly, “Enough talk. I’ve said enough. Time to get down to business.”
Conan was incredulous. “You have business? I thought you just kept me around to toy with me.”
“Do I have nothing better to do?”
“Guess not,” Conan said. Curious, he asked, “So, what’s the business?”
Kisaragi Fumin led Conan into a shop. “Go pick.”
“Pick... what?”
Seeing a wall full of Kamen Rider and other childish toys, seventeen-year-old Shinichi Kudo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You want me to pick toys?”
Was he seriously going to buy childish toys for himself?
The nightmare came true the next second.
A cheerful sales clerk approached. “Are you buying toys for a child?”
“Yes,” Kisaragi Fumin nodded and nudged Conan forward. “Go pick. Don’t waste time.”
Conan clenched his fists in pain and firmly stated his bottom line to Kisaragi Fumin: “I don’t know why you want to buy me toys, but I’m... absolutely not accepting this!”
Before he could finish, Kisaragi Fumin’s exclamation interrupted him.
“Huh? You’re a grown man and still want to play with kids’ toys?” Kisaragi Fumin raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking at Conan as if he were some kind of pervert.
“???”
Feeling his reputation was damaged, Conan flared up again. “I don’t like them!”
“Oh, then that’s settled.”
“Your disdainful look? You don’t believe it one bit.”
“You caught me.”
“You didn’t even try to hide it!”
Conan was too exhausted to retort. “If you didn’t bring me here to buy toys, then what do you want me to pick?”
Kisaragi Fumin responded openly, “They’re for my son. I want you to pick because you’ve been around kids a lot, and you’re a mature high schooler. You’ll choose toys that are more likely to please him than if I just bought randomly.”
He showed no shame in treating Conan as a tool and even turned it around on him: “Didn’t I tell you I have a son? Of course, the toys are for him. You’re a detective; how did you not figure this obvious thing out? Or are you just a bit delusional?”
Conan, feeling stabbed through like a pincushion, almost spat out a mouthful of blood. “Please, act like a decent person!”
Kisaragi Fumin was indifferent. “You know I’m not human, right?”
Conan: ...
“Destroy me now, please!”
Kisaragi Fumin urged, “Conan, don’t slack off. Time is limited.”
Backed into a corner, Conan looked at the childish toys and decided to fight for his lifetime reputation a bit more. “I think if you don’t pick snacks personally, you might end up with the wrong ones... How about buying snacks instead? Kids always like those.”
Kisaragi Fumin saw through his little scheme at once.
But to be fair, Conan’s reasoning was sound.
“Fine, then help me pick snacks.”
Conan was lifted again by Kisaragi Fumin and led into a famous dessert shop nearby.
Kisaragi Fumin handed Conan a small clip while he took a basket. “Start shopping.”
As long as it wasn’t toys, Conan could handle it!
“All right!”
Conan rolled up his sleeves eagerly, ready to apply all his expertise to choose pastries that would satisfy Kisaragi Fumin’s son, only to underestimate how spoiled the boy was.
Conan said, “I think kids these days would like the strawberry one on the left...”
Kisaragi Fumin replied, “What if he likes the grape one? Take both!”
Conan: “One should be enough, right?”
Kisaragi Fumin: “What if he’s especially hungry?”
Conan: “...”
A bad feeling suddenly crept over Conan.
Five minutes later.
“I don’t want what you think; I want what I think!”
Along with the clip, Conan’s shopping privileges were snatched away.
Conan grumbled, “You’re the one who made me come here...”
“Conan, stand aside and don’t get in my way!”
Kisaragi Fumin ruthlessly dragged the protesting Conan aside, leaving the stunned clerks to watch as he filled a basket in a terrifying thirty seconds, clearing out the entire store.
Still unsatisfied, he muttered, “Is this all? Won’t it be enough to eat...?”
Clerks: “...”
Conan: “...”
Would you like to open your eyes and look at the mountain of packaging behind you first?
Finally, the experienced store manager snapped out of it, holding a thick stack of bills and smiling despite the weight of the total. He asked Kisaragi Fumin, “Dear customer, your total is 1.75 million yen. Will you pay by card or cash?”
Kisaragi Fumin raised an eyebrow. “Almost forgot.”
Conan, caught up in the mess, couldn’t help but gloat. “Hmph, you actually don’t have money, do you?”
“What?” The manager tensed immediately, fearing a dine-and-dash.
Just as Conan was about to pull out the black card left by Yusaku Kudo to save the day, Kisaragi Fumin said, “I do.” With a flick of his finger, a bank card appeared at his fingertip. “Use this.”
The manager took it skeptically but immediately turned red-faced when the POS machine showed successful payment.
“Sorry, sir! I can’t believe I doubted your ability to pay. Please allow me to deliver these desserts to your home as an apology.”
Kisaragi Fumin waved it off. “No need.” With a wave of his hand, the mountain of desserts vanished instantly.
“Hey! How can you do that in front of them...” Conan was shocked and instinctively glanced at the clerks, only to see them bow politely and see them off with serene expressions.
“I blurred their minds. No one will notice,” Kisaragi Fumin explained.
Looking at the card between his fingers, Conan couldn’t help but ask, “Mochizuki Yukio can’t have this much money, right? Where did all this come from?” Remembering Kisaragi Fumin’s strange methods, Conan worried, “You could have used mine.”
“It’s fine. This card is from my previous life. The money is my insurance payout — legitimate income.”
“Insurance payout?”
“Personal accident insurance. I insured for 200 million yen. I originally intended to leave it to my son, Fushiguro Jin, but surprisingly, he never used a yen... Oh well, I’ll tell him after we reunite.”
Unbeknownst to Kisaragi Fumin, at that moment in Mihua Racecourse, an excited Fushiguro Jin was engrossed in horse betting when he suddenly received a call from the bank.
“Huh? My card was just used to pay over a million yen at a dessert shop? Are you kidding me? I haven’t even been to a dessert shop! My card’s right here in my pocket—”
Fushiguro Jin patted his empty pocket, his face darkening, and cold murderous intent flashing in his emerald eyes. “Damn it! I’ve guarded that 200 million for five years without spending a penny, and now over a million just got charged?”
Crack! The furious Fushiguro Jin crushed the phone into pieces.
“Damn! I’ll kill that bastard for sure!”
Shortly after Kisaragi Fumin left, the dessert shop door was flung open.
“Ah, the highest-rated dessert shop in Shibuya! Finally got some time to check it out! Boss, I’ll take one of every signature dessert here! Make it explosively sweet—where are my sweets?”
A white-haired boy wearing sunglasses burst in excitedly. Staring at the place, which was as empty as if Godzilla had just rampaged through, he was so shocked his glasses fell from his face. “What the hell? Did Godzilla just trash your store?”