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BUY NOW!Suzuki lunged—but Conan was faster. A dart from his watch. The detective slumped, and moments later, Kogoro’s voice boomed from the shadows (drawn by Ran, who had followed Conan).
Conan ignored him. He knelt by the water and saw it: a second rope, frayed, leading deeper into the pond. Attached to it was a stone lantern—and tangled in the chain, a man’s glasses.
The case had begun simply enough: a request from the Tōno City Tourism Association. Strange occurrences near the Kappa Pond. Missing offerings. A severed livestock leg left by the water’s edge. Kogoro, ever the skeptic, had laughed it off as a prank. But Conan had seen the look in the client’s eyes—fear, not superstition.
“The ‘Kappa’ wasn’t a monster,” Conan cut in. “It was a pulley system. You tied the second rope to a tree, looped it under the water, and when Tono knelt to take a photo, you pulled. He drowned in inches of water, and the current carried him to the deep channel.”
“Nothing. Just thinking about folklore.”
The victim was a folklorist named Kenji Tono. He had been researching local yōkai legends, particularly the water imp known as the Kappa. Three nights ago, he had told his wife he was going to the pond to “record the truth.” He never came back.
“He was already in the rain when he wrote this,” Conan murmured.
