It was the afternoon of a weekday, the last day of Shirakawa’s probationary period at Café Poirot.
Business was slow, and since Enomoto Azusa happened to be on leave, Shirakawa was the only one in the entire café.
He could take advantage of this free time to properly review the handwritten notes left by Enomoto Azusa.
Not only did they record the various types and characteristics of coffee, but they also thoughtfully included tips on how to handle difficult customers.
“Jingle*!!” The doorbell chimed crisply as a customer pushed the door open and walked in.
Shirakawa looked up subconsciously, wearing a professional smile, and was just about to say the “Welcome” he had memorized by heart.
But the moment he saw who it was, the smile on his face froze, and he stood rooted to the spot.
The three people who walked in were the last people he could have ever dreamed of seeing.
The man in the lead was tall, with long, silver-white hair reaching almost to his waist, and a black trench coat that accentuated his cold and stern expression.
A pair of dark green eyes, sharp enough to seem to pierce through one’s soul.
It was Gin.
Following beside him was a burly man in a black suit and sunglasses—the very same “kind soul” Shirakawa had met on his first day of transmigrating—Vodka.
And walking behind them was a young woman with short, tea colored hair.
She had a nearly perfect face, with fair skin, and her ice blue eyes reflected a coldness and sorrow that belied her youth.
Shiho Miyano, or rather, the Crow Organization’s ‘Sherry’.
All three of them radiated a powerful aura that kept others at a distance, completely incompatible with the cozy atmosphere of the café.
After entering, Gin and Vodka casually chose a table by the window, while Shiho Miyano sat alone at another table not far from them.
Shirakawa’s mind went blank, and he just stared at them blankly, completely forgetting his duties as an employee.
Time seemed to have frozen.
About half a minute later, Vodka finally grew impatient.
He raised his hand and slammed it heavily onto the table with a dull thud.
“What kind of crappy shop is this!
You’re just going to leave customers sitting here doing nothing?!”
His rough voice hit Shirakawa’s nerves like a heavy hammer.
He shuddered and snapped back to reality.
“No, I can’t panic!”
Shirakawa warned himself frantically in his heart that if he acted too nervous, Gin would definitely notice something amiss.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his wildly beating heart.
However, as he picked up the order pad and walked step by step toward the table where Gin and Vodka sat, his heart still couldn’t help but tremble.
In the world of Conan, the fact that Gin killed without blinking was no joke.
“T-two… Find the original chapter at g.com.
what would you like to drink?”
Shirakawa’s voice was shaking, and he stammered, unable to even finish a complete sentence.
He could clearly feel a cold, emotionless gaze fixed upon him.
It was Gin.
That gaze was like a cold viper coiling around his neck, making him feel as if he were suffocating.
Shirakawa’s mind was a chaotic mess.
Why were they here?
Could they be here to investigate the people around Shinichi Kudo?
If Conan’s identity were exposed, given Gin’s “better to kill the wrong person than let one go” style, the Mouri family and he would definitely be ruthlessly silenced!
The more he thought about it, the more afraid he became.
Shirakawa’s face turned pale involuntarily, and his hand holding the pen trembled.
Gin’s gaze, indeed, grew colder and colder.
As the organization’s top assassin, he was extremely sensitive to changes in people’s emotions.
The reaction of the waiter in front of him was too abnormal.
It wasn’t ordinary nervousness, but a fear as if he had seen the Grim Reaper.
A cold arc formed at the corner of Gin’s mouth.
He leaned forward slightly, and his viper-like dark green eyes flashed with a dangerous light:
“Do you…
know us?”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a chilling pressure.
It’s over.
Shirakawa felt his heart stop.
He could almost foresee that in the next second, he would be silenced on the spot by a silenced pistol.
Just at this critical moment, Vodka suddenly let out an “Eh” and leaned over, carefully examining Shirakawa.
“It’s actually you?”
For Shirakawa, this question was nothing short of music to his ears.
Grasping at it like a last straw, he nodded frantically without a second thought, his speech speed so fast it was like rapping.
“Y-yes, yes, yes!
I didn’t expect it to be such a coincidence!”
“Thanks to you for helping me find the way at the amusement park last time, that was a huge help!”
A hint of confusion appeared in Gin’s eyes, and he turned to look at his partner.
Vodka immediately briefly explained how he had given directions to this young man, who looked quite pleasant, at Tropical Land last time.
“You don’t have to be so nervous; my Boss here is a very good person.”
After saying that, like a senior giving advice to a junior, he kindly reminded him: “But kid, your service skills aren’t very good right now.
You need to practice more.”
“Yes, yes, yes.
I’m still in my probationary period and not very skilled yet, but I’m working hard to learn.”
Shirakawa quickly took the opportunity to climb down from the ledge, using this to explain his earlier nervousness.
He forced himself to squeeze out a smile that looked worse than crying, “T-to thank you for your help last time, this one is on me.
I wonder what you two would like to drink?”
Having finally written down Gin and Vodka’s order without incident, Shirakawa let out a long sigh of relief, feeling as if he had just walked through the gates of hell.
He turned and walked toward the table where Shiho Miyano was sitting.
As soon as he approached, he noticed that Shiho Miyano’s ice-blue eyes were staring at him intently.
Their gazes met in the air.
Shiho Miyano’s gaze didn’t flicker or shy away, calm as a bottomless pool of water, revealing no emotion.
She didn’t say a word more than necessary, just said indifferently: “An iced coffee and a blueberry jam sandwich.”
“O-okay.”
Shirakawa wrote down the order with a trembling hand while sighing inwardly.
The Shiho Miyano before him was even more beautiful than any frame he had seen in the manga, and even more heartbreaking.
Thinking of her tragic background, a trace of pity involuntarily appeared in Shirakawa’s eyes.
But what could he do?
He was just an ordinary passerby…
After finishing the order, Shirakawa turned and walked toward the kitchen.
The moment he turned around, he could clearly feel three sharp gazes behind him pricking his back like needles.
In the kitchen, Shirakawa prepared the coffee and sandwich while his brain worked at top speed.
Judging from the time that had passed since Conan had shrunk and the fact that Shiho Miyano had appeared in person, the purpose of these three dangerous individuals coming to Beika Town was, in all likelihood, to investigate the “missing” Shinichi Kudo.
After all, Shinichi Kudo was somewhat famous in Japan.
A living person had just disappeared into thin air; if he were dead, it should have been in the newspapers.
The Black Organization would definitely be suspicious.
Thinking of this, Shirakawa once again frantically complained in his heart about that troublemaker, Conan.
Having provoked such a terrifying Black Organization, instead of thinking about fleeing the country to seek refuge, he was content to live in his childhood sweetheart’s home.
Wasn’t this just harming himself and others!
He could only pray silently in his heart, hoping that Gin and the others hadn’t found any suspicious clues.