Ranpo was intelligent. He could read anyone in a matter of seconds. What they’re thinking, why they’re fumbling with their fingers and constantly shifting their weight, you’re convinced they’ve never sat still before in their life.

He has good eyes, despite them being closed 80% of the time. Good ears too, and most importantly, a good brain. Some say it’s his ability, but everyone knows hes just that smart. And by everyone I mean his friends, a.k.a the detective agency. He likes to refer to it as an ability, called Super Deduction, the effect triggering once he puts on the glasses Fukuzawa gave to him when he was 14. Calling it an ability just makes him sound cooler anyway. People would be disappointed if he actually wasn’t Gifted, but just a regular old person. Some might be wowed, but he wouldn’t be impressed. But to be the that smart, that intelligent, and that observant, all without an ability? That has to be a crime in and of itself.

Though, you’d never be able to tell at first glance.

With his two bags full of candies, the swirly rainbow lollipop sticking out of his mouth, and the kiddish lime green rain boots constantly splashing water at his pants, you’d think he was an oddly tall 6 year old who got lost in the rain and shoplifted a candy store.

And don’t get me started on his unhealthy addiction to sugar. How does he not have diabetes at this point? It’s truly a mystery. Maybe he burns off just as much calories when he’s using his big brain.

And speaking of his brain — does he even have one? With an intelligence quota like his, you’d think he’d use it helping people by solving countless cases of civilians who wished to know who killed their fiance, or why their son hadn’t come back home since last week, but why would he do that? Work is boring. His daily work schedule consists of lounging in his chair, eating 283739282920102 snacks and candies, and whining to his coworkers how boring work is and how he wants to go back home to his loving wife so he can eat even more sugar.

But, on occasion, he’ll look through a few files, write down the murderer or the missing person’s location in 3.00000007 seconds, before going back to munch on his endless pile of snacks.

Or, on another occasion, he’ll go out and solve some cases where investigating the crime scene was needed. Only to show off his powerful abilities, of course. Compliment him, and he’ll be your best friend. Who wouldn’t want to be best friends with the “World’s Greatest Detective”?

After solving some cases, lounging at the cafe one floor below the ADA (Armed Detective Agency), and eating more snacks than the stars themselves, you’ll find him walking home in the rain with a couple bags of sweets, his rain boots pittering and pattering in the rain, as mentioned earlier.

“Ehh? Where’d my gummy burger go?”

He peeks into his bag, digging for the chewy treat before he bumps into the front door of his own house.

“Oh—.”

He opens the door, dramatically announcing his arrival.

“I’m home!”

He sets the two bags down on the coffee table after retrieving his gummy, before wandering around the house in search for his wife, the miniature burger sticking out of his mouth.

“Found you!”

He says as he peeks into the bathroom, finding you relaxing in the nice, soothing, tranquil water—

Splash!

He jumped in so quickly you didn’t think he’d even have time to strip— but he did, somehow.

“Hey, where are all the rubber duckies?”

He pouts, wondering how you could possibly survive in a bath without at least 30 of his precious little rubber duckies.

“Oh, here they are!”

He exclaims before dumping the bucket filled with little rubber ducks with orange beaks and black, beady eyes, conveniently tucked away behind the toilet.

“You didn’t really think you could hide anything from the World’s Greatest Detective, did you?”

He says with a grin as a few ducks float up to meet his face, a small greeting and thank you for setting them free.