1-5

*Chapter 1: Phantom Thief of the Heart! But Also Conan*

"Thank you for riding the Tokyo Metro. This train is heading for Shibuya Station. This train is down for... Shibuya..."

The soft, flat voice of a female announcer gently roused Karasawa from his sleep.

As he drowsily opened his eyes, Karasawa instinctively tensed his back muscles, immediately snapping to alertness.

This wasn't his bedroom. Just a moment ago, he was lying in his warm, cozy bed.

Realizing this, he quietly controlled his breathing, lifted his head naturally, and glanced around.

The train car was packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, advertisements and posters covering the interior. A gentle rocking accompanied by the rhythmic sound of wheels hitting the rails, and bright sunlight streaming through the large windows onto him.

He was on a moving Japanese train, and he...

Karasawa lowered his head to discreetly observe himself.

A neatly pressed light blue jacket, a white shirt, and a dark green tie—it looked like a school uniform. He was clutching a black commuter bag in his arms.

Unzipping it slightly, he peeked inside: an umbrella, a glasses case, a planner, tissues, a pencil case, and a wallet—all typical student belongings.

In the inner pocket, there was a black folder. Karasawa glanced at the passengers around him, heads bowed in silence as they played on their phones. Deciding not to take it out directly, he just used his fingertip to sift through the papers inside.

Barely glimpsing the documents, Karasawa shivered.

"Notice of Expulsion" and "Protective Observation Notice."

He immediately understood—before he fell asleep, he had saved his third playthrough halfway through.

It seemed he had somehow become the protagonist of Persona 5.

Wasn’t this just like the opening cutscene of P5?!

Karasawa’s emotions were a swirl of excitement and confusion.

A bit of anticipation mixed with a slight apprehension—he knew the plot by heart but wasn’t sure what to be happy about since his character’s future was rather grim.

But wait—if this was P5, shouldn’t his uniform be black? What’s with this outfit...?

Karasawa steadied himself, taking out his wallet to look for further proof of his identity.

Inside were several thousand yen bills, and, in a transparent side pocket, a student ID card.

The moment he saw the card, Karasawa's mind buzzed, his pupils constricting in shock.

**Teitan High School Student ID

Grade: 2nd year, Class B

Name: Karasawa Akira**

On the left was a small, two-inch ID photo, showing a boy with light brown hair and blue eyes, looking expressionlessly forward.

It was a very handsome face, attractive, but with slightly upturned cat-like eyes and raised brows, giving the young face an intense, aggressive look.

This was strange—very strange. It was as if his own face had blended with the P5 protagonist's, like a mashup. Simply put, if they had a child, it might look like this.

Karasawa gazed silently at the boy in the photo.

As a sharp pain radiated from the back of his head, fragmented memories flashed before his eyes.

A dark, deserted alley at night, blinding car headlights, a young woman crying for help, a middle-aged man reeking of alcohol and red-faced as he stumbled and fell into a roadside flowerbed after a scuffle.

Then, flashing red and blue police lights, the glaring, surgical light of an interrogation room, and the booming echo of a judge's gavel in a quiet courtroom...

There was no doubt—this was P5. He was now the wrongly accused, falsely accused of assault, judged as a juvenile offender. He had come to Tokyo alone to complete a year-long probationary sentence, a period of supervised life in society. His behavior during this time would determine if he’d end up in a juvenile facility.

But... why Teitan High School?!

If he was in the Detective Conan universe, how many years would he have to endure this probation under their timeline?!

Tragic—just utterly tragic.

Thanks to his good poker face, Karasawa managed to keep his expression from twisting too much. He pursed his lips, took out his phone, and checked the front camera to see his new face.

Maybe it was the youthful appearance given by the cat-like eyes, but in the camera, the brown-haired boy looked even younger than his actual age—fifteen or sixteen at most. His brown hair fell messily around his cheeks, and his eyes were a bright, intense shade of blue, almost as if they were glowing.

With a distressed frown, he sighed at his own reflection.

"Alright, I look pretty good. Just a bit too cute," he muttered.

With a sigh of resignation, he closed the camera.

What else could he do? He'd crossed over, so jumping out of a moving train wasn’t an option. Gotta keep living.

Returning to the home screen, he immediately spotted the red and black Metaverse Navigator app icon, with graffiti-like lines forming a red eye, staring back at him.

He tapped it. No response.

Tapped it again.

After poking it six or seven more times, he gave up and turned off the screen.

Stupid app. Neither responsive nor removable. Destroy it, then.

He wondered if he had his third-playthrough save file. If he didn’t at least have his hard-earned Persona Compendium... Please, he thought, the script’s already stitched together. Making him start from scratch would be cruel.

At that moment, everything around him fell silent.

A black-clad Phantom Thief turned and slapped his hand against the screen. The P5 system interface appeared before him, familiar as ever.

Karasawa stared at the screen, reaching out instinctively to tap on the item menu.

“Whoa!” He let out a delighted cry at the sight of the full item list.

In P5, multiple playthroughs don’t carry over character levels, but they do retain all items, money, and the records of previous personas crafted in earlier runs.

Thank goodness, he had a fully loaded third-playthrough save! He could survive this! And he was rich!

Relieved, he exited the interface. The background noise returned, and seeing no one had even glanced his way, he relaxed in his seat.

Finally at ease, he started browsing through his phone.

Whether he’d gotten a new device or his cross-dimensional journey had altered it, the phone contained almost nothing. The photo album was empty, and there were only two contacts: his father and mother. It wasn’t clear if he truly had no friends or if his criminal status had severed his social ties.

In his email inbox, there was only one message from his father. In a cold, formal tone, his father described arranging a place for him to stay in Tokyo—a loft above a café run by an old friend who was now overseas. The place was fully available for him to live in for a year, and it was conveniently close to his new school.

And for his son, soon to be living alone in Tokyo, the email contained only two chilly lines: “Remember to check in regularly with your supervisor and follow the rules,” and “Don’t cause trouble this year. You won’t get a second chance.”

“What the…” Karasawa muttered, reading each line with growing frustration. “Did my own father write this?”

It wasn’t just distant; the tone was almost hostile, as if he really was an irredeemable criminal.

After a few deep breaths to calm his anger, he continued reading, finally spotting the address of his destination at the end of the email.

*39, 5-Chome, Beika Town, Tokyo. Poirot Café.*

Karasawa stared at the address, speechless.

He should have guessed. Living in a café loft must be some kind of fixed arrangement.

How convenient—the detective agency just below has a café!

If he remembered correctly, once the Bourbon Arc kicked in, Amuro Tooru would start working at the café.

Which meant—

He was about to become classmates with Ran Mouri and Shinichi Kudo, Ran’s neighbor, and Amuro’s... coworker?

How could it be like this.jpg

Following Conan's logic, he’d have to fill the role of suspect, victim, or culprit at least once. It would be rude not to.

Given his current backstory, he was perfectly suited to play the villain.

Wrongfully accused, abandoned to live alone, and with no social ties—someone with such pent-up resentment and anger was practically destined to become a criminal.

Becoming the victim would depend on whether those responsible for framing him would see his case as an exploitable liability. Just counting the people involved—the politician, the young woman he saved, the police and prosecutors—none of them were completely clean.

Being a suspect was easy, too. With his record, the police in Division One would be failing their duties if he didn’t get shortlisted a few times.

While Karasawa was lost in thought, the announcer broadcasted the arrival at Shibuya Station, snapping him back to reality.

The train’s final stop was Shibuya; he’d have to transfer here to get to Beika Town.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 2: Why is Bourbon Here?*

By the time Karasawa finally made it to Beika Station, two hours had passed.

Though Karasawa wasn’t Japanese in his previous life, he had lived in Tokyo before and had some expectation of how confusing it could be to navigate the subway, especially around Shibuya Station, which was like a maze.

However, the modified subway system in this Conan universe still managed to trip him up. He completely miscalculated the time it would take to get to Poirot Café, so by the time he arrived, it was already past two in the afternoon.

By all accounts, he should have gone to Teitan High School today to complete his enrollment procedures. This delay probably meant he’d miss dinner.

Mourning his faintly aching stomach for a moment, Karasawa pushed open the door to Poirot Café.

There were three or so customers in the café, and two waitstaff standing behind the long counter chatting with the customers. As soon as they heard the door open, everyone looked toward Karasawa.

“!”

Karasawa looked up and saw two people, and his heart skipped a beat.

The young woman with long hair and a gentle smile on the left was likely Azusa Enomoto, the café’s regular waitress from the manga. The issue was with the man next to her—his looks were too distinctive: tanned skin and short blond hair. Anyone who had seen Detective Conan would instantly recognize him.

Why was Amuro Tooru here?!

Seeing Karasawa just standing at the door with no idea what to do, Azusa Enomoto examined him carefully, her gaze moving from his school uniform to his unusual hair color and blue eyes.

“Ah!” Azusa clapped her hands lightly in realization. “You must be the high school student the boss told us about, Mr. Karasawa Akira.”

Snapping back to his senses, Karasawa reflexively bowed and greeted her. “Apologies for my rudeness. It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Karasawa Akira, and I’ll be staying here for a while. I hope to learn from you.”

His instinctive, polite introduction brought a smile to Azusa’s face. Karasawa’s nervous demeanor made him seem like a shy, socially awkward high schooler.

“Kind of cute, huh?” she whispered quietly to Amuro Tooru.

Amuro, who had been studying Karasawa just as carefully, then gave him a friendly smile and waved. “No need to be nervous; the boss has already informed us. I’m Amuro Tooru, and this is Azusa Enomoto. We’re the staff here, so please take care.”

Looking at Amuro’s sunny smile, Karasawa adjusted his breathing to calm the nervous pounding of his heart and smiled back, stepping further into the café.

Yet beneath his calm exterior, Karasawa’s mind was in turmoil.

What was going on? Had the plot of Conan already advanced quite a bit? Amuro Tooru’s working at Poirot Café meant Shuichi Akai was likely already posing as Subaru Okiya, right?

But he remembered glancing at a newspaper along the way that headlined, “High School Detective Shinichi Kudo Solves Another Case.” Shinichi was still active!

Then why was Amuro Tooru here...?

Things were looking grim. His life as a lodger was off to a terrible start.

“Your personal items arrived yesterday. We put them upstairs,” Azusa explained, pointing toward the wooden stairs behind the counter. “You can go upstairs to settle in and rest a bit. If you need anything, just let us know.”

Thinking Karasawa might be too nervous around other customers, Azusa kindly offered him a reason to excuse himself.

“Thank you very much, but I was delayed too long on the way here, and I’m running out of time to handle the enrollment. Could I first get a proof of residence?” Karasawa hesitated, unsure if Azusa or Amuro knew the full details of his identity, and carefully chose the term “residence.”

What he actually needed was a volunteer’s affidavit to vouch for him, serving as his temporary guardian while under observation and probation. Since he was a juvenile with a criminal record, he needed a volunteer guardian to assure the school he’d be under supervision and regular reporting, without which the school wouldn’t accept him.

“A proof of residence?” Azusa repeated, somewhat puzzled by Karasawa’s request.

But Amuro cut in. “Ah, you mean a residency certificate? Leave it to me; the boss filled me in. You’re transferring to Teitan High School, right? It’s close by. I can go with you.”

Karasawa turned to face Amuro’s purple-gray eyes. Judging by Amuro’s relaxed smile, it was clear he understood exactly what Karasawa was asking.

Karasawa looked around at the other customers and asked quietly, “Isn’t it business hours? Are you sure it’s alright?”

“No problem. I can handle things on my own here,” Azusa said, pushing Amuro out from behind the counter. “Amuro-san, please see him there quickly.”

So Karasawa stood there, looking all obedient and polite, as he waited for Amuro to take off his barista apron, put on a jacket, and head out. He followed behind him, looking just as well-behaved.

But the truth was, Karasawa’s grip on his bag was so tight he nearly tore the fabric.

He was absolutely stunned.

Azusa might think he just needed proof of residency, but Karasawa knew full well that he needed someone who could liaise directly with the school on his behalf.

So, after all this, his temporary guardian wasn’t the mysterious, never-seen café owner but Amuro Tooru?!

As Karasawa followed behind him, he lowered his gaze, focusing intently on the shadow cast by Amuro’s feet, hoping his expression didn’t betray him in front of this sharp detective.

This was bad. Shinichi hadn’t even been knocked out yet, and Karasawa had already encountered the “organization.”

That’s right—it had to be the organization.

No matter what Amuro’s real motives were, his use of the identity “Tooru Amuro” meant he was operating as the undercover agent Bourbon, and this wouldn’t just be a random café job. The original story had Bourbon investigating the Mouri Detective Agency when he began working here.

Bourbon wouldn’t offer to act as a high schooler’s guardian without reason. This meant there was likely something about “Karasawa Akira” that had somehow triggered Bourbon’s storyline early.

“You seem nervous, Karasawa-kun,” Amuro suddenly commented, looking back at him.

“Yes, I am. My apologies,” Karasawa replied softly, maintaining his shy demeanor and raising his gaze only enough to stare at Amuro’s cuff.

Karasawa’s memories of his past life were hazy, and he couldn’t even remember his parents’ names, let alone the original Karasawa Akira’s personality.

He assumed Amuro knew more about Karasawa Akira than he did. Given Amuro’s thorough nature, he had likely investigated every detail before meeting him.

Karasawa decided to lean into his own interpretation. Even if his original self had been outgoing, it made sense he’d be more withdrawn after being wrongfully labeled a criminal.

Amuro’s tone softened further. “Don’t worry, Karasawa-kun. I understand your situation. The boss is usually abroad, so for the next year, I’ll be responsible for your supervision.”

Just as expected.

Karasawa remained silent, knowing Amuro would only continue to press if he kept the conversation going. He decided to take control.

“Does that mean Miss Enomoto, or perhaps anyone else at the café, also knows about... this?” Karasawa asked in a quiet voice, his tone resigned.

Amuro’s face softened in response, his tone becoming reassuring. “No, the boss only informed me. You can feel safe here; we respect your privacy.”

During the walk to Teitan High, Karasawa’s mind raced. He quickly decided on the persona he’d adopt from now on.

Following his established plan, he let out a bitter laugh, his tone turning self-deprecating as he said, “Makes sense. It’d be hard to run a café if people knew you had a juvenile offender living here.”

Amuro frowned. “It’s not like that, Karasawa-kun.”

“Rest assured, I won’t be a burden to anyone,” Karasawa continued, his gaze fixed downward. “I’ll stay out of trouble. I just need to make it through the year without causing you any inconvenience.”

His self-deprecating demeanor shifted Amuro’s initial questions to lighter topics, like Karasawa’s new school, Teitan High School.

“Teitan’s a renowned school with a high acceptance rate for colleges,” Amuro said in a cheerful tone, almost like he was trying to reassure a younger student. “The atmosphere is great. I think you’ll enjoy it there.”

Karasawa finally raised his head, meeting Amuro’s eyes for the first time.

He seemed like he wanted to disagree but held back, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Really?” Karasawa thought wryly. “A friendly atmosphere in Beika? Not likely.”

This expression Karasawa was making, which he’d practiced unconsciously on the train, made his cheeks puff up a little and gave him a somewhat naive appearance.

Before he knew it, Amuro had reached out and patted his head.

“Relax; there’s nothing to worry about. And there—there’s Teitan High School,” Amuro pointed.

… Speaking of which, the protagonist’s school in Persona 5, Shujin Academy, is a pun—"Shujin" sounds like "prisoner" in Japanese, representing the protagonist’s "prisoner of fate" theme.

Teitan High School is also a pun. "Teitan" sounds like "tantei" (detective) with the syllables rearranged.

… Seems like there’s no escaping puns in this life, huh.

With a heavy sigh, Karasawa kept these thoughts to himself and obediently followed Amuro Tooru into this iconic otaku landmark.

*Chapter 3: Kudou Shinichi Gets Involved (with a Crying Tone)*

Teitan High School looked like an ordinary Japanese high school.

Of course, Karasawa didn’t really understand Japanese high schools, but as long as a big-nosed gym teacher didn’t jump out in his face or throw him into a wild Persona 5 plot twist, it could pass as just a typical high school in his eyes.

Today was a day off, so the school was empty and silent.

Karasawa took out a black folder from his bag, handing several documents to Amuro, who led him from one office to another, filling out application forms, bowing, filling out more forms, stamping, bowing again, and filling out even more forms.

Because Karasawa’s case was unique, it was a lot more complicated than a normal transfer. His previous school record had essentially disappeared after being expelled, so he had to complete form after form, taking over an hour just to finish all the paperwork.

The good news was that he now knew a bit more about his background, thanks to some pre-filled information on the application forms.

Karasawa Shou’s father was named Karasawa Ichikawa, and his mother was Karasawa Leona—apparently, he was mixed-race.

He lived in Kyoto—which he already knew, as he found a train ticket stub from Kyoto to Tokyo in his bag. He was 18 and had previously attended Izumi Shin High School in Kyoto.

…That school sounded familiar, but it didn’t matter. He was already living below the famous Conan detective, and his guardian was now Amuro Tooru. How much crazier could things get? He was curious to find out.

When he saw the names of his parents, a flash of their faces came to his mind.

Though he still had no memories of interacting with his parents, he remembered that the Karasawa couple were scholars living abroad, leaving Karasawa Shou on the island to attend school. Due to their constant absence, he wasn’t close to them.

Even when Karasawa Shou became involved in a criminal lawsuit, his parents didn’t return to handle it themselves, instead assigning a lawyer to fully represent him. Karasawa Shou had no way to defend himself, caught in a trap set by a group of strangers and ended up being convicted.

…What a mess.

After signing the last document, Karasawa held the thin sheet of paper, staring at his parents' names with a mix of feelings.

From his perspective, the entire process of framing him didn’t involve any complicated or careful plotting. Just a crude combination of fabricated testimony and physical evidence, and the case was settled.

There was indeed no need for elaborate methods. His only guardian didn’t appear, and as a minor, he had no means to speak up or seek help. Even the privacy protections for minors became the perfect cover to hide the case from the public, making it easy to manipulate a high school student.

Considering the possible involvement of the Organization, the truth might be even murkier. There was no telling where the Karasawa couple was or if they were even still alive.

“What’s the matter? Is there a problem with the paperwork?” Amuro Tooru asked as he noticed Karasawa zoning out with the papers as they left the principal’s office.

“No, everything’s done.” Karasawa kept up his role, maintaining an air of concealed worry and pretending to be calm. “Thank you for going to so much trouble for me.”

Amuro Tooru took the stack of documents from him with a light smile. “Since I agreed to help, it’s my responsibility as your guardian. No need to thank me.”

“‘Responsibility as a guardian,’ huh?” Karasawa muttered softly.

Amuro heard his self-talk, quickly scanning the first page of the form and spotting the section on family relations.

Accepting Karasawa’s “abandoned by family and society, withdrawn with a hint of darkness” persona, Amuro received the message Karasawa wanted to convey.

Such a poor kid, thought Amuro with a sigh, knowing the backstory.

Poor Karasawa Shou, Karasawa thought, sighing without knowing the backstory.

The two layered personas reached an unspoken understanding and left the school with a good atmosphere.

---

“This is the café key, and this is the one for the loft. Since the café is always open, make sure to lock up the loft if you go out and stay safe.” By the time they got back to the café, it was nearly closing time. After cleaning up and preparing to close, Amuro handed Karasawa two keys, explaining the café’s setup.

Karasawa was listening attentively at first, but soon found himself distracted.

Because, from the direction across from them, two figures were walking over—a tall, slender girl with long black hair and a small boy in a blue suit, a bow tie, and big glasses.

The two walked hand in hand, passing Karasawa and Amuro Tooru, then turned toward the stairs next to the Poirot Café.

…There was no mistaking it. Karasawa revised his earlier thoughts.

It wasn’t that Kudou Shinichi hadn’t been knocked out yet while the Organization surfaced in Karasawa Shou’s life. Rather, both things were happening at the same time.

Today was the beginning of the Conan story, Karasawa realized. When he woke up on the train, Kudou Shinichi had probably just walked into Tropical Land.

After watching the two walk upstairs, Karasawa took the keys from Amuro.

“Go ahead and settle in upstairs. Rest well,” Amuro said, seeing Karasawa fiddling with the keys, trying to find a place to attach them. He reached out as if to ruffle Karasawa’s soft hair again.

Karasawa quickly dodged.

What’s with you, Bourbon? Play your role if you must, but quit patting people’s heads!

Amuro was momentarily surprised by Karasawa’s reaction and watched him with interest. “Quick reflexes, huh?”

Karasawa almost retorted with a classic line about how head pats stunt growth but decided against it to keep up his newly created persona. Instead, he turned toward the café and said, “I’ll be resting then.”

“Rest well. See you tomorrow, Karasawa-kun.” Amuro’s smile faded as he watched Karasawa slowly head upstairs.

He then walked to his car, took out his phone, and composed an email.

[Contact established as planned. No sign of the documents mentioned in his personal belongings. Proceed with the plan?]

After sending it, he opened a secure, encrypted email interface and began composing a second message.

[Any updates from the Kyoto investigation? What’s been discovered about the details of Karasawa Shou’s case?]

After checking the car for any surveillance or transmission devices and performing a quick checkup, Amuro finally opened the door of his Mazda RX-7 and sat in the driver’s seat.

Starting the car, he waited for replies to both emails, all the while watching the now dark Poirot Café.

The café was only lit by a faint, warm light from the staircase behind the counter. Karasawa Shou had likely shut the door upstairs, making it difficult to see what he was doing.

Karasawa Shou—a unique high school juvenile offender.

A minor charged with aggravated assault was unusual enough, as this level of sentencing typically implied a severe and violent crime, especially when applied to a minor.

But the case had resulted in a protective observation measure and even transferred the individual from Kansai to Tokyo for the observation period. Were the case’s verdict and handling really in line with proper procedures?

On top of that, he was now a target of the Organization. So how much of that sentence had been influenced by them?

Could it be that the police and prosecution departments had been infiltrated so thoroughly?

As he brooded over the current information, both email replies arrived.

[Plan unchanged. Maintain contact and observation, earn his trust if possible. He is likely the only one who might know where the document is. Observe his relationships carefully; many eyes are on him, so avoid interrogation methods unless absolutely certain of avoiding police notice.]

[No new updates from the Kyoto police. Lead investigators listed in the records are Kyoto Division 1’s Ichiro Ishiki and Takeshi Satou, but both deny involvement in the case. Right now, Karasawa Shou himself is our most promising lead, Furuya-san.]

Amuro shook his head and deleted both messages.

“What a troublesome kid. Just a student, yet somehow tangled up in all this mess.” Reviewing what he knew, Amuro found it harder to understand. “What’s the Organization’s interest in him?”

But it was an opportunity too good to miss.

The Organization wanted something from him, but what was that document exactly? This could be the breakthrough he needed to understand the Organization’s true motives and plans.

“Good luck to both of us, Karasawa-kun.” Amuro sighed, stepping on the gas and speeding away.

Now, the undercover agent working three jobs had to get back to his place to continue working overtime.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 4: The Velvet Bar Opens for Business*

The attic in the Boro Café was at least better than the place at LeBlanc, thought Karasawa as he unpacked, feeling fortunate.

The space wasn’t big, and it lacked windows, but at least there was a proper bed, a private bathroom, and shower. These alone were more than enough for him.

Fun fact: the bed the protagonist in Persona 5 sleeps on is basically just a few stacked plastic crates with a wooden board on top.

The previous owner’s belongings had been packed into three cardboard boxes, which had already arrived at the café ahead of him. They contained a couple of sets of his Teitan High School uniform, three to four seasonal outfits, shoes, some loungewear, a few school supplies...and that was it.

...This was strange. Was the original owner a complete blank slate with no personal hobbies or keepsakes? No personal items reflecting any part of his past life?

Then, he thought of the practically new phone the original owner had left behind. Was it possible everything had been confiscated?

It was highly likely. Bourbon had probably taken all of Karasawa Sho’s electronics, books, and papers.

At this thought, Karasawa opened his commuter bag and took out his planner.

Sure enough, it was brand new and blank.

He sighed and tossed it back in the bag. Perfect. Whoever had done this had done a thorough job—nothing had been left behind.

Oh well. He’d have a long year ahead of him, so there was no rush.

But he was starving. He hadn’t had lunch or dinner yet. There was a kitchen downstairs, but he couldn’t just use the café’s supplies without asking, could he? He didn’t even have—

Wait. He did have something!

Karasawa sat up straight. Right, maybe he could try out his dimensional pocket?

In case Bourbon had installed surveillance equipment in the attic, Karasawa pretended to rummage through his bag.

He browsed the long list of items in his inventory and selected the cheapest rice ball.

In the next moment, he felt the cold plastic packaging in his right hand.

So it really worked. Not bad at all.

Karasawa held the cold rice ball up to his eyes, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was firm and springy, a genuine rice ball.

But could he actually eat something with no expiration date? To be honest, he even had a LeBlanc ultra-spicy curry buried in here, aged for two years in-game. Even in the game, he’d been hesitant to eat it.

His stomach, aching with hunger, finally made him tear open the packaging, close his eyes, and take a bite.

It tasted fine, with the rice grains chewy and subtly sweet. Surprisingly delicious.

He quickly devoured the rice ball. Judging by the size of his commuter bag, it seemed reasonable enough to stash another one, so he devoured a second.

Amazing. He’d have to test if he could store items in his pocket, too. If so, he’d practically be invincible with nothing left to fear. Dimensional pocket for the win!

As his nerves relaxed, exhaustion washed over him, the mental strain of a day packed with information leaving him drained.

He pulled out some loungewear and slowly shuffled to the bathroom.

He was thoroughly worn out and ready to sleep.

---

A vast, endless blue unfurled before his eyes.

The crisp chime of wind bells and the sound of doors opening followed one another. When Karasawa opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of a dimly lit bar counter.

The dark blue checkered tiles, blue diamond-patterned walls, and a bar covered with Klein blue tablecloths, all indicated one thing…

“Welcome to the Velvet Room, dear guest.” A bartender behind the counter turned, pulling a highball glass from the rack, and gestured for Karasawa to take a seat.

“A bar, huh…” Karasawa raised his eyebrows with a strange expression but still chose a bar stool and settled in. “So, my Velvet Room is a bar? I haven’t been a heavy drinker for a while.”

“A fine bit of irony, isn’t it?” The blonde bartender propped his arm up, leaning casually on the counter.

Karasawa sized him up from his blue jazz hat down to his blue bow tie and waistcoat.

The bartender was quite handsome, his golden hair neatly slicked back. Despite his Asian features, his sharp facial contours gave him a mature look. Most would probably peg him around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, which suited the vintage bar aesthetic well.

But…

“Still, letting minors into a bar isn’t exactly appropriate, is it?” Karasawa leaned forward, pushing his youthful face closer to the bartender.

“That’s not my call, guest. The Velvet Room reflects the heart of its visitor, and ordinary minors wouldn’t project a bar as their Velvet Room.” The bartender chuckled, tipping his hat with a formal bow. “I’m Leon, your assistant.”

Right, time to go through the usual initiation routine.

Karasawa blinked quickly. “So, are you going to recite the usual lines?”

“What lines? ‘This is a realm between dream and reality, mind and matter’ and such? You already know all that, so there’s no need to waste time.” Leon lightly shook his head, denying Karasawa any satisfaction for his dramatic flair, and pushed the empty highball glass toward him.

“Ah, so you know everything, huh? Including the ‘comics,’ ‘games,’ ‘reincarnation,’ and all that?” Karasawa tapped the empty glass, his tone unsurprised. Leon’s earlier answer hinted he was aware of Karasawa’s real-life experiences.

Leon nodded, readily confirming. “That’s right. Whatever you know, I know.”

Karasawa exhaled in relief, easily accepting this setup and even feeling lucky.

The Persona series’ basic premise draws heavily from Jungian psychology, with a mystic, cultish twist. Most characters in the know are secretive types who speak in cryptic riddles.

Relaxing into a more comfortable position, Karasawa propped his head in his hand with a long sigh. “Phew—that’s a relief. Listening to cryptic riddles even in a dream would be torture. Since you get it, let’s be straightforward. So, there’s no Igor here? Is that because this world’s a bit of a patchwork?”

Igor, a long-nosed old man in the series, is the owner of the Velvet Room and plays the “guide” role, linking events and delivering riddles. In Persona 5, his presence has a specific plot relevance. Without him here, it was clear Karasawa’s world differed from P5 entirely.

Leon shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. “Not sure. Probably, but it doesn’t matter now; we’re officially ‘off the books.’”

“‘Off the books’?” Karasawa’s expression darkened at those words.

“No offense meant,” Leon said with a smile that betrayed a hint of mischief. His casual shrug barely masked his insincerity. “It’s all ‘in the past’ now.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’ve been here for ages. Just yesterday, I was a contented shut-in, only to blink and end up here.” Remembering his unfinished games and unread manga, Karasawa clutched his chest in mock despair. “And I hadn’t even finished Selda 2!”

He’d had it all, a cushy, idle life until, suddenly, he’d reached “the end.” Who would’ve expected this?

“But aren’t you actually enjoying yourself?” Leon didn’t indulge Karasawa’s dramatics, directly pointing out his true feelings.

Karasawa froze, coughing awkwardly as he settled back into his lazy posture. “...You can really tell?”

The truth was, while a sudden otherworldly journey would be a nightmare for most people, Karasawa felt…

His life had been a stagnant pool, a future all too predictable. He had resigned himself to it but didn’t necessarily prefer peace.

Absently, he brushed his hand over his smooth, unscarred knee, marveling at its perfect state.

“I am your assistant, your mirror, your companion, and accomplice.” Leon tipped his hat, gesturing to Karasawa’s empty glass. “Since the bar is open, how about a drink?”

“I already told you, I don’t drink…”

“I know. But do you want one?”

“Ahem… yes.”

Unfazed, Leon produced a bottle and poured a dark amber liquid into Karasawa’s glass. Karasawa sniffed the rich, grainy aroma and raised an eyebrow. “Is this… bourbon whiskey? Are you hinting at something?”

“No hint.” Leon gestured to the nearly empty bar cabinet behind him. “This is all we have.”

“What, because I ran into ‘Bourbon’? That’s… a bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Karasawa clicked his tongue but sipped the drink.

The smooth, sweet flavors and nostalgic kick of alcohol made him squint in satisfaction, a smile tugging at his lips.

“This is terrible—if I get hooked on alcohol again, I can’t even buy beer. I’m still a minor!” he mumbled, a mix of joy and grumbling as he sipped again.

"It's just an Easter egg; think of it as an achievement to collect." Leon knew exactly how to calm Karasawa down, and one sentence was enough to reassure him.

As a platinum player with all trophies and achievements, Karasawa immediately felt respected. He stopped worrying about the weird room features and started asking the real questions: "Alright, so what's my mission? Do I need to go into the cognitive world, fight to stop it from merging with the physical world?"

Karasawa understood the world of Persona 5, and he understood the world of Detective Conan. But when they were combined, it left him a bit lost.

The worldview of Persona 5 is supernatural, though it’s psychological supernatural—essentially manifesting human cognition as a parallel world. Those with the power to affect the cognitive world can, in turn, influence the real world. It has a strong symbolic meaning but is still supernatural.

The main storyline of Persona 5, from a worldview perspective, is to uncover the relationship between cognition and reality, then make a choice at the end: face the truth fearlessly to save the world.

Detective Conan, on the other hand, even though it often defies Newtonian physics, like kicking satellites and throwing punches stronger than humanly possible, is still a traditional detective manga. It tries to stick to a materialist approach, avoiding the supernatural.

Its main storyline revolves around spy games and cop-vs-criminal scenarios, with intense mind games between the "red" and "black" factions. There’s a lot of strategizing, predicting each other's moves, and piecing together clues to ultimately uncover and defeat the Black Organization.

So, what would happen when these two worlds merge?

It would be… strange.

Leon shook his head, dismissing Karasawa's theory, and then gave him his first shocking answer of the night.

"No, that's not necessary. In this world, they’ve already merged."

Usually updated in the afternoon, two chapters per day.

(End of chapter)

*Chapter 5 Ends!*

"Integrated already? What do you mean?" Karasawa tightened his grip on his wine glass.

"Literally." Leon poured himself a glass. "You're familiar with the plot; you know how the world of cognition merges into reality, right? This detective world—"

"Time's out of sync, high schoolers investigating murders, crime scene photos splashed on the front page, people smashing concrete with their bare hands, and anyone can pick up a knife and attack... can you really call this a 'real' world?"

Karasawa swirled his wine glass, lost in thought.

The Persona 5 series keeps its tradition of multiple endings. Besides the main heroic ending, P5 offers a conspiratorial ending where the protagonist joins forces with the main boss. In this ending, the world doesn’t exactly fall apart; it becomes a controlled game board, with the protagonist indulging in his role as a "secret vigilante" and being celebrated as a false hero of justice.

Looking at it this way, it’s oddly fitting.

The Conan world, with its odd detective rules, a timeline eternally frozen at one year, and physics-defying feats… it’s never really been a "real" world to begin with.

"So, you're saying Conan's world is inherently idealistic? Does that mean the cognition world is gone?" Karasawa asked, uncertain.

Essentially, he’d just finished the opening plot and was ready to start his heart-stealing adventure, only for the world to tell him it’s already over!

"Not exactly," Leon replied, taking a sip. "But the boundary’s very fuzzy now. There’s a chance the powers might overlap. If someone can smash a support column with one punch, no reason you can’t have something special, right? I'd say they’re inseparable, and there’s no need to distinguish between them. It’s all just part of the world."

"Impressive..." Karasawa thought, realizing the cognition world still existed, albeit with rules likely different from what he knew.

In this reality, as long as it didn’t violate the Conan world’s logic, he might have access to some cognitive abilities: climbing towers barehanded, using his "third eye," or maybe jumping onto someone’s shoulders for an eye-poke?

…Better stick with a karate chop. In the Conan world, the "karate chop of justice" solves everything.

"Got it. That’s how the Conan world works; now I understand completely." Karasawa nodded. "So now, what’s my goal?"

"If you don’t know, then neither could I." Leon cryptically replied, dodging a direct answer. "Fate has left its cradle because of you, tossed into the tides. Will you maintain it or destroy it? This isn’t a game or a manga anymore; this is your rebirth. You’ll have to find your own answer."

Karasawa set down his empty glass, silent.

Honestly, with two wildly different scripts, could he even find a unified goal? He was unsure.

But Leon was right. With supernatural powers in one hand and two storylines in the other, he held control, whether he wanted to dive into the storm or escape it.

Leon didn’t interrupt his thinking, quietly pouring him another glass of bourbon.

As his glass filled, Karasawa began to find a path. A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes narrowed like a classic villain.

Leon, watching his expression change, instinctively leaned back, temporarily wanting to put some distance between himself and this guy with “troublemaker” written all over his face.

"I get it. I just need to finish this troublesome probation period, hold out till it’s over, right? But Leon," Karasawa raised his glass, throwing a reproachful look at Leon, "weren't we not supposed to play the riddle game?"

Leon lifted his glass, countering, "What did you think of the line just now?"

"Alright, it was kinda cool."

"Thanks. Cheers."

Their glasses clinked with a crisp sound.

Karasawa downed his whiskey, barely savoring it before sinking back into a dark dream.

---

"Hey, hey, Ran, Ran!"

Suzuki Sonoko called repeatedly, waving her hand in front of her friend, who seemed lost in thought.

"Huh? Sonoko, what is it?" Mori Ran snapped out of it, blinking.

"Geez, why have you been so out of it today?" Sonoko tapped her desk. "You weren’t even paying attention this morning."

"Shinichi hasn’t been around since we left the amusement park yesterday, and he didn’t come to school this morning either."

Sonoko waved dismissively, "He probably got caught up in another case."

"But I called him, and he didn’t answer, no message at all..."

"Come on, it’s Kudo we’re talking about. He’s ‘Japan’s savior of the police,’ right? When he’s on a tough case, he forgets everything. Probably forgot to check his phone. Don’t worry about it." Sonoko dismissed the topic and leaned in excitedly, "Anyway, rumor has it there’s a new transfer student today, and he’s supposed to be really handsome!"

"A transfer student?" Ran, uninterested in handsome guys, focused on the fact that a student was transferring mid-semester. "It’s unusual for someone to transfer during the semester..."

Sonoko clasped her hands, already lost in her fantasy. "My youth is incomplete without an encounter on the cherry blossom-lined paths with a gentle, dashing prince! I never thought my high school dream would come true in my second year!"

Ran, accustomed to her friend’s daydreams, let her indulge while she checked her phone again.

Still no reply from Shinichi.

The unease that had hovered over her since yesterday afternoon was still there. She sent him yet another message, urging him to get back to her.

---

With the class bell, Karasawa walked into Class 2-B, following the teacher.

Turning to face the students, he instantly spotted Sonoko with her gleaming eyes and Ran behind her.

They were just too obvious.

The teacher wrote his name in kanji on the board. "This is Akira Karasawa, joining our class today. I hope you’ll all get along well."

"My name’s Akira Karasawa, from Kyoto. Nice to meet everyone." Karasawa lowered his gaze slightly, bowing.

"Wow... Is he a mixed blood?" Sonoko whispered, clutching her collar, "And he has blue eyes!"

"Quiet, Sonoko." Realizing Karasawa had noticed Sonoko’s excitement, Ran nudged her, a bit embarrassed.

Karasawa smiled warmly at Sonoko, showing he didn’t mind, instantly giving Ran the impression he was easygoing.

Of course, Karasawa didn’t mind.

In fact, meeting these innocent high school girls who could be charmed with just a few smiles was perfect timing.

His perfect entry points to the main storyline had arrived!

(Chapter ends)