Detective Conan: Death Note-Chapter 345: Idiot, Have You Forgotten the Camera Delay?
A dim room lit only by the cold glow of numerous surveillance monitors. Gin and Vodka waited in silence. One minute remained until 14:37. Ti
A dim room lit only by the cold glow of numerous surveillance monitors.
Gin and Vodka waited in silence.
One minute remained until 14:37.
Time passed, second by second. Gin's dark green eyes were locked on the central screen—the intersection where Shuichi Akai's life was supposed to end.
The street on screen was peaceful. Pedestrians strolled by. Cars passed. Everything looked routine—too routine. But the true terror of a "surprise" lies precisely in how well it hides within the mundane.
Gin watched the clock.
25...26...27...28...
As the seconds ticked closer to 30, Gin's eyes narrowed.
Vodka held his breath, fingers poised to zoom in.
14:37:30—
When one counts time second by second, each tick feels slower.
31...32...33...34...35—
Nothing. Akai hadn't appeared.
Just as that thought surfaced—
14:37:37.
Shuichi Akai stepped into the frame.
Calm, cigarette between his lips, hands in his pockets. Just another passerby.
At that moment, the light had just turned red. It would remain red for a full minute and a half.
"...Cointreau, he's two or three seconds late," Vodka muttered, carefully, not wanting to criticize.
Not that he was nitpicking—Cointreau's operation required extreme precision. A few seconds could ruin everything.
He braced for Cointreau's anger.
"Idiot," Gin cut in coldly, not even sparing a glance. "Did you forget about camera delay?"
"Oh... right..."
Vodka shut his mouth.
Gin returned his focus to the screen. That delay was exactly why Cointreau wasn't watching from this room. He was out there—on-site.
—
At the bustling intersection, Akai Shuichi stood, cigarette between his lips.
Hidden agents—ones who had followed him for days—received their signals. They disguised their nerves and excitement behind ordinary strides, blending in with passersby.
They had to strike before the red light changed.
Hisayama Ryo gripped a knife inside his coat.
Just one clean stab. Kill Akai. Earn a codename in the organization.
His excitement grew.
Less than three meters now. He accelerated—knife drawn—and lunged.
But Akai's hand shot out and caught his wrist.
It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
Their gazes locked, and Ryo's blood ran cold.
The scuffle caught my attention. Passersby gasped and backed away—but curiosity kept them close.
From within the crowd, another attacker—a nondescript man—drew a knife and rushed forward.
Akai smirked.
He shoved Hisayama directly into the second attacker's blade.
Pffft.
A cry of pain.
The knife sank into the flesh.
Akai stood over them calmly. "No one ever taught you your tracking skills suck? Now, tell me—who sent you, and why?"
The voice was transmitted live to Gin through the bug in Ryo's pocket.
Gin smirked, watching Akai dominate the screen.
Still proud as ever, Akai Shuichi...
Let's see what your death looks like.
Just then, the roar of a motorcycle engine echoed.
Akai heard it too.
He turned just in time to glimpse a rider locking eyes with him—and pulling out a submachine gun.
DADADADADA—!
The gunfire sent bystanders fleeing, screaming.
Several were hit—blood staining the pavement. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂
Akai had ducked just in time.
He dived behind a parked car as bullets ripped through the air, tearing into nearby metal and innocent flesh.
In the surveillance room, Vodka zoomed in.
On-screen, Akai pulled his gun, face dark with fury.
But before he could act, a sudden beep emitted from the vehicle shielding him.
The white car exploded.
BOOM!
Akai, despite diving instinctively, was thrown by the blast.
Fire erupted. Chaos followed.
Drivers panicked—veering wildly.
A motorcyclist was hit by a car swerving to escape the flames.
Another car tried to flee, crashing into another vehicle. One had its tire blown out, the impact knocking it into a nearby streetlight.
Szzzzzt—!
The lamp sparked violently and began to sway.
Back in the surveillance room, Gin's heart, normally ice-cold, quickened.
Eyes fixed on the screen, he leaned forward, breath held.
Everything was in motion.
