"Good morning, Karasawa-kun. Is that a new outfit?" Enomoto Azusa was wiping down the bar when she looked up and saw Karasawa coming downstairs in a British-style trench coat. She smiled warmly at him.
"Yes. Good morning, Miss Enomoto." Dressed once again in a more familiar civilian style, Karasawa felt unusually great. He greeted her while casually grabbing a rag to help her wipe the tables.
He was completely focused on the task, while Enomoto Azusa tried, and failed, to suppress a laugh.
Karasawa had dressed like a thirty-year-old man, but with that baby-faced eighteen-year-old body of his, all it did was make him look even younger.
Maybe he's going for a mature look because his face is too cute?
Azusa's mental image of Karasawa quietly tilted a little more toward "adorable kid." Still smiling, she complimented him, half-joking, half-genuine: "You've got great taste, Karasawa-kun."
Oblivious, Karasawa cheerfully helped open the café doors and flipped the "Open for Business" sign.
Naturally, he wasn't going to school today either.
Three days after transferring to Teitan High School, he'd already had two days off. Karasawa had no complaints—he was fully in favor of the lax academic calendar in the world of Detective Conan.
He got his gear in order, said goodbye to Azusa, and headed off toward the Palace of Maru Denjirou.
After last night's calling card, Maru Denjirou was probably on edge, and the Maru residence would likely be on total lockdown.
Unfortunately for him, the sword of Detective Conan doesn't cut through the bureaucracy of Persona 5.
Karasawa turned down a back alley, rounded a corner, and tapped a button on his phone.
With a single step, he slipped into the empty streets of the cognitive world, his body vanishing into the shadows.
A few seconds later, two shadows rounded the same corner, trailing him.
One of them paused in the alley, brow arching without surprise.
Karasawa Akira definitely had anti-surveillance skills. Shuichi Akai confirmed it once again.
Click.
The sound of a pistol chambering a round.
Akai immediately twisted out of the way just in time to avoid a bullet, spinning to aim at the rear of the alley.
Amuro Tooru stood there, his silver HK P7M8 gleaming maliciously in the dim light, aimed squarely at Akai.
"Rye. What are you doing here?"
Karasawa, of course, had no idea that the two people tailing him had ended up clashing thanks to his slick evasion. Cheerfully, he switched into his Phantom Thief form and dashed toward Maru Denjirou's residence.
The heightened alert at the Palace brought with it a swarm of Shadows patrolling under sinister red light. Maru Denjirou's Shadow was nowhere to be seen; the mansion gates were tightly sealed.
Karasawa, an experienced gamer, wasn't the least bit fazed. In fact, he was a little disappointed there wasn't more dramatic background music.
The terrain of a Palace doesn't change with the ruler's alert level, which meant his infiltration route from yesterday was still viable. And if he got caught by the added patrols…
Then he'd just take out every single Shadow that saw him!
As any veteran gamer knows—if nobody's left alive to tell the tale, it still counts as stealth.
Climbing walls, hopping rooftops, leaping and ducking through shadows—it all came naturally.
Whether it was thanks to his Persona awakening or some other enhancement, this untrained teenage body of his moved in the cognitive world with 100% of Karasawa's real-world skill. Agile. Precise. Brimming with strength.
Even with twice as many guards in the courtyard, their glowing red eyes sweeping across every inch like searchlights, Karasawa made his way across the rooftops and slipped into the inner courtyard without breaking a sweat.
The main building stood wrapped in crimson mist, surrounded by samurai Shadows. At the center stood Maru Denjirou, now clad in full general's armor, samurai blade in hand, glaring across the courtyard.
Damn. This atmosphere is straight-up haunted.
Peering down from the eaves, Karasawa reached up and gripped the mask on his face.
Then he jumped.
While still midair, the mask in his hand burst into flames, and the snarling form of Twenty Faces rose from his back, wreathed in fire.
Stealth? What stealth?
Karasawa glanced at his skill menu—completely full. With a grin of pure provocation, he bared his teeth at the now-roaring Maru Denjirou.
Does this guy have any idea what kind of New Game+ I'm running?
Last night, it wasn't just about pounding Lyon into the dirt. He'd pulled out his fully-completed Persona Compendium, stacked with every skill combination that fit his fighting style. Then he dipped into his 90 million yen savings and spent a chunk on rapid fusion.
And just like that—Twenty Faces was reborn. Fully maxed out, stacked with every elemental skill under the sun.
"Come on, scum." Karasawa flipped a short blade into his hand and held it across his chest. "Let's see what kind of trash you are."
His contemptuous tone sent Maru Denjirou into a fury. The general took a heavy step forward and roared, while the surrounding samurai Shadows closed in.
"You cowardly brat! I'll sever your arms, your legs, and your head—and hang them at my gate to dry in the sun! That's what happens to fools who cross a daimyo!"
The moment he finished his long-winded monologue, the armored general exploded into black sludge, his true twisted form bursting through.
Blade after blade, all different sizes, protruded like ribs from a floating shell of armor. A giant nodachi stabbed into the ground behind him like a towering spine. Golden emblems, helmets, and tokens of power orbited him in the dark, tangled together like prey caught in a spider's web.
"Ugh, why does it have to be a spider? Gross." Karasawa made a face, bracing for combat. Twenty Faces let out a hoarse laugh as shadowy tendrils unfurled.
"So damn long-winded. No class. No villain aura at all."
Karasawa grinned. "Get him, Twenty Faces. Persona!"
"What? The meeting's been canceled?" Mouri Kogorou stared at the calendar, confused. "Didn't Maru-san say today was the only day he was available?"
"We're terribly sorry, Mouri-san." The strained voice of Maru Denjirou's secretary came through the receiver. "After dinner last night, the Maru residence received several threatening letters. Maru-san is very tense today and has canceled all appointments."
"Threatening letters?" Mouri Kogorou's irritation turned to concern. "Were there any personal threats?"
"Well… it's hard to say," the secretary replied, hesitant. "Some think it's just a prank. Others suspect it's a competitor trying to cause confusion…"
"Could you share the details with me?" Mouri straightened, clearly catching the scent of a case. "Threatening letters are no small matter."
The whole town had seen those letters fly through the air—this wasn't exactly subtle. After a moment's thought, the secretary relented. "Do you have access to a fax machine? I'll send over a copy of the threat. If you can help us track down whoever's behind this, we'd be extremely grateful."
Hearing the phrase threatening letter, Conan's ears perked up. He subtly inched over to Kogorou's desk, hands on the edge, trying to hear more.
Kogorou hung up, turned, and gave Conan a swift knock on the forehead. The fax machine whirred to life with a mechanical groan, spitting out pages.
"What the hell is this? A warning letter?" Kogorou scowled at the mismatched lines of text, clearly cut and pasted from newspaper print.
"'Phantom Thieves of Hearts'…" Conan read aloud from the bottom of the page, peeking at the fax with Kogorou.
...What kind of middle-school cringe is that?
Conan twitched at the corner of his mouth—but still, he silently committed the bizarre name to memory.
Yep, the Palace scenes really did come at a breakneck pace here. Rush rush rush, your majesty the King of Haste.
Can't be helped, though. Not a major case, gotta get through the motions quickly—so let's skip the filler and speedrun the combat.