Detective Conan: Death Note

"From the looks of you… it seems like you know someone who looks like me?"

The man standing before us introduced himself as James Moriarty.

Dressed in a black cape, tall and slender, he leaned on an elegant walking stick. A naturally proud smile played across his handsome face.

There was no mistaking it.

Even with his hair slicked back — giving off an entirely different impression than usual — it was undoubtedly Hayashi Yoshiki's face.

"…What's going on? Isn't that Brother Yoshiki?"

"I don't know…"

Faced with the young man's cheerful question, the group exchanged puzzled glances.

Conan scrutinized him carefully and, finding no immediate flaws, accepted the situation surprisingly quickly.

"It's probably because this world's stories were written by Brother Yoshiki and the others," he whispered to the group. "Don't forget the photos of Dr. Agasa and Uncle Yusaku we saw in Holmes' apartment."

Indeed — his own father had chosen to play Sherlock Holmes in this world. But the image of Moriarty had been modeled after Hayashi Yoshiki…

"Yeah… and Brother Yoshiki didn't even participate in 'Cocoon.'"

"…"

While the children whispered among themselves, Ran couldn't shake a growing unease.

Yoshiki did enjoy pulling pranks sometimes… but this?

"My instinct tells me your whispering would be entertaining," Moriarty said, lightly tapping his walking stick to a rhythm. "But I'm always more forgiving toward children."

He handed his fedora to Coronel Moran, who accepted it respectfully. Then Moriarty's gaze turned to Conan.

"You lot seem particularly interesting."

"…Even the villain's entrance is so gentlemanly!"

Sonoko covered her mouth, flushed and wide-eyed — this version of Hayashi Yoshiki exuded a dangerous kind of charm. Ran, standing beside her, looked both amused and exasperated.

"We have a friend who looks very much like you, Professor," Conan said, peering up.

"I'd love to meet him," Moriarty replied smoothly.

"Unfortunately, he's not here right now."

"Then let's get to the more important question — what do you want from me?"

Moriarty's tone was casual, amused — as if he were watching some kind of game show.

That detached amusement brought a heavy pressure to the air.

He may have looked like Hayashi Yoshiki, but…

"Jack the Ripper," Conan began, "you're the one who sent him out to turn London into a city of terror… right?"

"You're half right."

Moriarty chuckled softly. "Jack was a street rat I found in the slums… abandoned by his mother, fending for himself on the streets. But he had talent — criminal talent. I did indeed raise him to be a killer."

"But why target innocent women?" Ran asked, her voice trembling.

"Everyone must die," Moriarty replied flatly.

Hearing that delivered by that face — so familiar, so gentle — struck them all like a thunderclap.

But before they could react, Moriarty added:

"—Though I say that, it's true Jack the Ripper has lost control. This recent spree? That's the result of a child gone mad."

"Don't shirk responsibility!" Hiroki (disguised as Hideki Moroboshi) protested. "Your goal was to plunge London into terror. But why? What's the point of all this?!"

"Of course, there's a point."

Moriarty's smile widened — not kindly, but coldly pleased.

That smile…

It was nothing like Yoshiki's. Though polite in form, it was laced with arrogance, and condescension — like a snake in silk.

"Evil is a natural part of the world, just as every fairy tale needs its classic villain," Moriarty mused.

"I sponsor quite a few… activities across London. Those who commit evil in my name are paid handsomely. Some scoff — and others line up to join. Fascinating, isn't it? The same circumstances. Different choices. Why?"

He paced slowly, voice calm and chilling.

"Ever since civilization invented numbers, evil has existed. To give a simple example: if killing ten people could save a thousand, someone will do it. That's the nature of man."

"Humans can't live as clearly as wild animals. Animals eat to survive. But humans? They eat others to eat better. Then they kill for nicer clothes, better homes…"

"All because of comparison. Of logic. And in this London… in this Europe… that is simply how it works."

He looked almost amused.

"Don't take it so seriously. I'm not a monster. I've simply embraced the shadows of this material world. Perhaps I should take up a professorship in sociology?"

His words were terrifying.

Conan stared, silent. He knew it was twisted logic. Knew it was wrong.

But… in the context of 19th-century London?

He couldn't find a rebuttal.

This was the Moriarty of this world.

Unlike the villain in Doyle's novels — a shadowy figure — this version was vivid, cold, and undeniably real.

Sonoko gulped. Thank goodness this isn't the real Yoshiki!

Even if that face was breathtaking… this pure evil carried a dangerous charisma that made her feel sick.

Ran, similarly pale, thought: This… this isn't a prank. There's no way Yoshiki-kun would ever become someone like this.

"Now then," Moriarty said, checking his pocket watch, "I believe my wine is calling. Coronel Moran went to some effort to procure it, and it's rather wasted on children."

He looked at the group.

"You came here looking for Jack the Ripper, didn't you?"

"That's right…" Conan replied.

"I take it you failed to find Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps you read his notes on Jack and assumed I could help?"

"…How do you know that?"

"Mr. Holmes has gone to Dartmoor. Or perhaps… he is closer than you think."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. But since you wish to confront Jack, I'll assist you."

"Assist?"

"Yes. He may be unstable, but if I give the order, he'll still obey."

Moriarty smiled arrogantly.

"All you need to do is reach the designated location and wait."

"Why would you help us?"

"Because his instability is now a liability. Or perhaps…" He leaned in. "You simply dislike the idea of fighting evil with evil?"

"…Then what should we do?"

"I'll publish the notice in tomorrow's Sunday Times. You can read the rest there."

With that, the conversation ended.

The group was escorted from the club. Ran and Sonoko cast one last look at "Hayashi Yoshiki."

They'd come hoping Yoshiki could help them beat the game.

Instead… they found he was the villain.

"Please beware of the Reichenbach Falls in three years, Professor."

Conan couldn't resist the parting shot.

Though he admired Sherlock Holmes, he had always been intrigued by Moriarty — in fiction.

But seeing this Moriarty wearing Yoshiki's face… gave him chills.

Moriarty only smiled in response.

Once they were gone, he turned to his subordinates.

"Assign some of our smarter agents to observe Mr. Holmes' landlady and dear Inspector Lestrade."

"And those children," he added, seating himself with a smirk.

"I want them watched closely."

After all — his ultimate goal was to kill Sherlock Holmes.

If Noah's Ark wanted him to experience the game fully, Holmes had to exist in this world.

Was he in hiding?

Or was he near the Reichenbach Falls, where their inevitable confrontation must occur?

He'd find out soon.

Time passed quickly in-game.

By the next evening, Hayashi Yoshiki ordered Jack the Ripper to "clean the stage" of the opera house.

The killer obliged.

That night, during the opera's performance, the stage exploded — the building collapsed. Conan's group narrowly saved Irene Adler, but not without casualties.

In Doyle's canon, Holmes admired Adler for her cleverness — nothing more.

But in the Conan world, Adler was Holmes' only true love.

Yet Holmes still did not appear to save her.

Instead, Conan and his allies tracked the fleeing Jack the Ripper to Charlie Cross Station. They boarded the final train.

With help from the crew, they isolated all passengers into one carriage.

"According to Mr. Holmes' notes," Conan explained, "Honey Charist — Jack's second victim — married in a town called Windsor. Ten years ago, she left her family to chase dreams in London."

"At the scene of her murder, two rings were found. One hers. The other… child-sized."

"Holmes suspected a parent-child connection. And Moriarty's so-called education twisted that child — Jack — into a monster."

"He avenged his mother… but continued killing women who resembled her."

Wearing a ring from childhood would stunt finger growth. Only one person in the carriage fit the evidence.

Conan, Ran, and Hiroki unmasked Jack, disguised as a woman.

As Ran lunged to stop him, Jack tossed a smoke bomb.

When the smoke cleared…

Everyone was gone.

Ran. The killer. Every passenger — vanished.

The climax was near.

Outside Cocoon, backstage, Thomas Schindler checked his phone.

A message had arrived:

In one week, deliver Cocoon's operating data… and Hiroki Sawada.

Cold sweat broke out on Thomas' brow.

Them again…

Though they were his greatest sponsors, Thomas feared the secretive organization.

Especially since they held… dangerous leverage over him.

But then he remembered: Hiroki's AI — Noah's Ark.

If he could use it to uncover the organization's identity… maybe he could turn the tables.

Cocoon didn't matter.

But Hiroki — a genius — was someone Thomas couldn't afford to lose.

Just then—

"Chairman!"

A panicked programmer rushed in.

"What is it?"

"Someone infiltrated Mr. Kashimura's studio… They copied some of the data!"

"What!?"

Before Thomas could react, Kashimura Tadaki shot up from his seat.

"Did you call the police!?"

"We will, right away!"

"Wait—!"

"My computer… it contains Hiroki's DNA-tracking program! If that's been stolen—!"

"…You mean the DNA-tracing program?"

Thomas Schindler's expression changed instantly.

That program contained proof that he… was a descendant of Jack the Ripper.