The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. The rare meeting between the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia took place in a neutral warehouse space at the edge of Yokohama’s harbor—windows shuttered, lights dim, guards stationed at every exit. Members of both factions lined opposite sides of a long table, distrust gleaming in their eyes. Chuuya sat with arms crossed, glaring daggers at Dazai, who returned a lazy grin, completely unbothered. Mori stood calmly behind his chair, observing everything like a chess master. Kunikida flipped through his notebook, frustration evident in his furrowed brows, while Fukuzawa sat silently, ever composed.

Even Ranpo had shown up, munching on a strawberry candy while watching the room like he already knew something no one else did. Yosano leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, eyes narrowed at Mori. Atsushi sat near the edge, posture stiff, not sure whether to be ready for a discussion or a fight. Akutagawa loomed quietly behind him, sleeves shifting unnaturally with every breath.

The discussion had only just begun when an almost imperceptible click echoed from beneath the table. Ranpo’s candy froze halfway to his mouth. Dazai’s expression went cold.

Dazai: “Everyone—!”

The explosion ripped through the center of the room with deafening force. Fire and metal shredded the table in a split second, flinging bodies like rag dolls. Smoke and dust engulfed everything. The impact sent Kunikida flying across the room, crashing into a stack of crates. Chuuya slammed into the far wall, headfirst. Akutagawa’s coat shielded him only partially from the blast as he hit the floor hard. Atsushi crawled toward the door before collapsing.

Silence fell, broken only by the creak of a damaged light fixture swinging above the smoke-filled chaos. Figures lay motionless. Blood dripped onto cracked concrete.

Mori: “…How…interesting…”

He managed before passing out too