Ke Xue: Shinichi and I are childhood friends

A square somewhere was crowded with people, very lively, and there were police everywhere guarding and maintaining order.

The crowd was enthusiastic, probably because of the appearance of a certain person.

The reporter at the front of the crowd kept adjusting the camera to ensure that he could accurately capture the required images.

At this moment, surrounded by several bodyguards, an old man with gray hair in a suit appeared in the square.

He had a mental appearance that was completely inconsistent with his hair color. His temperament was that of a person in a high position. He smiled and waved to the crowd while walking.

With his appearance, the enthusiasm of the scene reached its peak, and countless people shouted: "Kevin, Kevin..."

The cameras of reporters also took pictures of him.

At the same time, the radio began to introduce this old man.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have kept you waiting for a long time. I am honored to introduce to you the next presidential candidate that this town is proud of, Kevin Brown."

When Kevin Brown stood on the podium, the scene gradually quieted down, looking forward to the speech that was about to begin.

Bang!

Suddenly, a gunshot was heard, and a terrifying blood hole appeared between Kevin's eyebrows, and the whole person fell to the ground.

Screams suddenly rang out in the square.

The next moment, the square darkened and disappeared out of thin air.

A proud female voice sounded: "Okay, 500 yards pass!"

A short-haired woman wearing a headset, holding a sniper/gun in her hand, stood on a high platform.

Chianti raised the muzzle of the gun with satisfaction. Since the picture disappeared, it means that she successfully killed the target.

It turned out that this was not a square, but a secret training base of the Black Organization. Everything that happened just now was just a projection.

"It's your turn, Cohen." Chianti chewed gum and looked at Cohen on the other side.

The two were conducting a sniper training competition.

Hearing Chianti's words, Cohen said nothing as usual, just raised the sniper rifle in his hand, and the next second, a projection of a lake appeared. In the center of the lake was the old man Kevin, who was reading in a boat.

The crosshairs were precisely fixed on Kevin's forehead. The next second, a gunshot rang out, and the old man was shot dead and fell into the lake.

The same person, the same way of death, but in a different place.

Chianti looked at the result and couldn't help saying, "550 yards, it's so easy, you deserve it."

Cohen put away his gun expressionlessly, as if what just happened was not done by him.

Chianti didn't say much. She had long been accustomed to the silence of this companion. If it weren't for the occasional communication between the two of them due to the mission, she would have thought Cohen was a mute.

At this time, two figures, one fat and one thin, appeared at the entrance of the training room. They didn't speak, but just watched Chianti and Cohen's training quietly.

Chianti raised his gun again. This time the scene was a Shinkansen that was about to stop at the station, and Chianti was in a high-rise building facing the platform.

In the train, the old man appeared again, also reading the book in his hand.

The train stopped at the platform, and he turned his head to look out the window.

Chianti had already aimed at the old man's head, and he pulled the trigger without hesitation when he saw this scene.

The old man was shot in the head again, and the picture disappeared.

The same old man, the same way of death, different location.

"600 yards, OK!"

Chianti put away his gun, turned his head to look at Cohen, and raised his chin proudly: "Kevin Brown will die three times."

"Four times."

Cohen corrected Chianti's words indifferently, raised his gun and aimed, this time the sniper distance was 650 yards, and a lively football game appeared in the camera.

The poor old man who had been killed three times was sitting in the VIP room watching the football game below.

On the other side, Vodka suddenly said to Gin: "Brother, they did a good job."

Gin put his hands in his pockets, stood there with an indifferent expression, and did not answer.

He looked at Cohen. Although the gathering distance was set to 650 yards and Cohen had given up his boast that the old man would die four times, based on his understanding of his men, he was afraid that...

The gunshot sounded and Cohen fired.

But unfortunately, he did not hit the target and the bullet shot into the back of the chair where the old man was sitting.

Cohen's face changed slightly and he was a little unhappy.

Chianti immediately laughed sarcastically and raised the muzzle of the gun and said, "What a pity. Now as long as I hit the target, I win."

She pulled the trigger, but like Cohen, she did not hit the target.

Chianti tutted in dissatisfaction.

It seemed that the two of them tied in this round and did not hit the target, but in fact, Chianti lost - because her bullet was more outrageous than Cohen's and hit the popcorn bucket on the table next to him.

After the old man died three times, he finallyYu successfully survived, which is really a cause for celebration.

Vodka said with some regret: "It seems that 600 yards is their limit."

Having worked with these two people for a long time, Vodka thought they could break their limits this time, but they still failed.

"Let's stop here." Gin said coldly, turning around and preparing to leave.

"Gin!" Chianti shouted dissatisfiedly, "Let me try again, I will definitely win this time!"

"No need."

Chianti's face changed slightly, what does this mean? Do you think she is bad?

Cohen did not speak, but just looked at the back of Gin's head in silence.

Gin stopped and said with a cold back: "The target this time is only two or three hundred yards at most."

Chianti was stunned: "What do you mean..."

Gin turned his head to show a side face, and the murderous aura in his eyes under the brim of his hat was about to overflow.

He said slowly and indifferently: "Chianti, Cohen...work."

···

Nissuri TV studio.

Okino Yoko waved to the camera with a gentle smile: "Thank you for watching Yoko's four-minute kitchen, and see you next week!"

The live broadcast ended.

"Everyone has worked hard!" The director clapped his hands and walked forward, "You can take a break now."

Yoko Okino smiled and said to Maori Kogoro beside her: "Mr. Maori is really amazing. He is not stage fright at all during the live broadcast!"

Ran Maori, who was standing at the edge of the studio, also agreed: "Really, Dad is amazing!"

Mauri Kogoro acted quite calmly: "No, no, my performance is totally bad!"

He slurped a mouthful of noodles and closed his eyes to savor it: "Miss Yoko, it's all because you are so beautiful that I got too excited. Look at the Yoko-flavored ramen I cooked. The noodles are all rotten. It's completely KO!"

"Hehehe!"

Mauri Kogoro showed his standard pervert smile.

Yoko Okino was a little speechless, but she still had a standard smile on her face.

She was used to Maori Kogoro's appearance and knew that he just looked frivolous, but he was actually a good person.

Conan looked speechless with empty eyes: What noodles were KOed? You just cooked the noodles too much, right? It's just as bad as your lecherous look!

Just when Conan was madly competing with his future father-in-law, a gurgling sound suddenly came from his stomach.

Mao Lilan smiled and bent over: "I forgot that we haven't had breakfast yet."

Conan was extremely embarrassed and could only force out a coping smile.

Mao Li Kogoro and Okino Yoko also came over.

Okino Yoko saw that Conan was hungry and secretly thought that she was careless, so she suggested: "If it's convenient, why don't you go to the TV station's restaurant for breakfast with me?"

Before Conan and Mao Lilan could speak, Mao Li Kogoro immediately clapped his hands and agreed: "Okay, okay!"

Mao Lilan and Conan immediately showed the same dead fish eyes: Are you going to have breakfast? I'm embarrassed to expose your purpose!