When the tingling sensation in his neck came for the 37th time, Mouri Kogoro sneered in his heart.
He could feel the bespectacled kid tiptoeing behind the sculpture, and hear the slight electrical noise of the bow-tie voice changer.
"There is only one truth -" his own voice echoed through the microphone through the hall.
> He lowered his head in cooperation, but caught an unfamiliar smell of bitter almonds in his breath - coming from the client's trembling right hand.
"You brat, the murderer used cyanide this time... Lan will be dead by the time you finish your reasoning!"
The moment Conan pressed the anesthesia needle, Maori "accidentally" fell from the chair and knocked over the murderer's poisonous tea cup with a precise elbow strike.
In the uproar of the whole audience, he drunkenly hugged the stunned Xiaolan and muttered: "Good girl... Stay away from that cup... It's dirty."
Conan froze in place. At that moment, Maoli's eyes were as clear as a knife.
