Yokohama script team dies online

"Isn't there anyone in this world who is stronger than that 'Gin'?" Dazai clattered through the documents in his hand, his tone full of disbelief, "It's too useless!"

Conan took issue with his words: "Isn't this horrible resume enough?"

"The things you did are not at the level of a little dwarf," Dazai pursed his lips in disdain, "even Dun-kun can't compare."

Ah, it's Chuya Nakahara and Atsushi Nakajima.

Conan Edogawa felt much calmer about the names of literary giants that came out of the mouths of these two people.

At that time, when Dazai faced him and said "Conan-kun, haven't you already guessed?", the former high school detective whose real name is Kudo Shinichi couldn't resist the urge to swear.

When chatting later, he learned that in the world where Dazai Ranpo lived, Akutagawa Ryunosuke was Dazai Chef and Ellen Poe was Ranpo Chef, he still cursed out the swear words that he had been holding in his chest.

"Does the creator of your world have any evil intentions?"

"Maybe it's Conan-kun's bad taste?" Dazai touched his chin.

There is no way to refute.

If this topic continues to be discussed, it will be endless like nesting dolls, so Edogawa Conan shut up in time.

He still couldn't believe that there was such a poor literary world in Japan: "Are there no literary giants who have written books?"

"We have Natsume Soseki's book over there." Dazai put down the materials in his hand, and answered Conan's question seriously, "but it's far less famous than your side."

The smile on his face faded: "There should be one more."

"Is it Oda Sakunosuke?"

"you caught me?"

"Because Dazai-kun, you have been reading his books recently."

"To be honest, I didn't expect Oda Saku to write such a short story, which really shocked me."

"Anyway," Ranbu, who had been silently listening to their conversation, put down the glass marble on his hand, "No matter how similar they are, the me in this world is completely different from me."

"Indeed." Dazai smiled.

"Because I can't imagine that Mr. Ranpo can write a sticky and gloomy book like "Yin Beast"!"

"I think "No Place in the World" is very suitable for you, it is hypocritical and artificial-do you need me to recite the classic speech above?"

"It's my creed to commit suicide in a clear and energetic way," Dazai replied angrily, "You really look down on my optimism and positiveness, Mr. Ranpo!"

Edogawa Ranpo sneered: "If you believe in you, there will be ghosts." He rolled his eyes without any restraint, "Next time, if you don't drag Mr. Ranpo and me to hang yourself together, I can barely believe it for half a minute."

"Then let's jump off a building and die in love together next time," Dazai clasped his hands in front of his chest, his eyes lit up, "What a romantic way to die!"

Conan complained: "Can you stop talking about this kind of topic with two children?"

On the other end, an empty bar.

"Gin," Belmode waved the letter in his hand, and greeted the silver-haired man perfunctorily, "This is the task the boss gave you."

Without saying a word, the man opened the envelope and read it carefully.

"Edogawa Ranpo?" His voice was low, and the expression on half of his face hidden in the shadow of the hat was unclear.

"That's right," the woman leaned back gracefully on the chair, and there seemed to be a smile in the corner of her raised eyes, "His assistant's name is Osamu Dazai."

"The detective and assistant who suddenly appeared in front of the world and cracked the case with the same name as Wen Hao," she continued, "and, even we couldn't find even a trace of the past of these two people."

Qin Jiu pursed his lips, and his tone became even colder: "Is it an organization that uses the name of a literary hero as its code name?"

"That's right." Belmode lightly flicked the absinthe on the bar with his finger painted with red nail polish, "Boss asked you to go to this banquet to get a closer look at their purpose and judge whether they can win over."

"If it's not worth using," the woman raised her glass and took a sip, leaving a faint red mark on it, "just kill it."

The man in black nodded and put the letter in his pocket: "I understand."

He turned and left without hesitation.

"Banquet?" Conan looked at the invitation letter in Dazai's hand with a look of surprise.

"He's someone I've never heard of before." Luanbu waved his hands impatiently at the two people in front of him, "Get out of the way, I'm watching TV!"

Dazai pulled Conan to move two steps aside, and then dutifully started his duty of explaining: "It's just as Mr. Ranpo said."

"and then?"

"What then?"

"So if you don't know each other, why do you want to participate?" Conan was about to run out of patience with this man who kept pretending to be stupid.

"Because I want to see the world," Dazai spat out an explanation that none of the three present could believe. "Who is it that drags a famous detective who doesn't know the details into the upper class without hesitation?"

Ranpo looked at Conan, who was teased by the bad-tempered man with a helpless face, and had a rare kindness: "We are going to this banquet to meet with the black organization."

"Joint?" Conan was taken aback, "And the black organization?"

"—When did the two of you hook up with that organization?"

Dazai casually stuffed the invitation letter into his windbreaker pocket: "Good people like us can't take the initiative to connect with them."

"The person who came this time is probably the silver-haired killer," he said, "Kenan-kun, don't be too nervous. If we are exposed, the three of us will definitely be killed by that ruthless man."

These words successfully made Edogawa Conan even more nervous.

"It's not that exaggerated," Luanbu casually tossed the bag of potato chips that he had finished eating to the side, "At most, he tried to assassinate us when we were alone, right?"

Conan felt cold sweat coming out: "Isn't this exaggerated enough? What kind of life did you guys live before?"

"Isn't it good that Conan-kun is so immature?" Dazai leaned towards Ranpo, "Edogawa Ranpo is directly subordinate to Edogawa Conan, which fits the external characteristics of our organization, right?"

"organize?"

"Conan-kun, if you can think of it, others can find it too."

After saying this meaningful sentence, Dazai looked at the children's animation on TV, and his face became surprised: "Mr. Ranpo, has your mental age really degenerated to seven years old?!"

Luanbu's eyelids couldn't stop twitching, and he replied plausibly: "I can't see the follow-up development only in children's animation."

Edogawa Conan looked at the two people who were singing and almost going to stage a cross talk in front of them.

Too much like a silly father watching cartoons with his son.