Detective Conan: Final Resolution

That night, Chen Jue did not sleep well. Outside, the typhoon grew fiercer, and the wild sea winds shook the windows of the little villa with violent tremors. Some gaps whistled sharply, so much so that during the latter half of the night, Chen Jue got up several times, rummaged in the living room for a roll of tape, and sealed the cracks before returning to bed.

It should be said, Chen Jue’s martial skills had advanced greatly, and his hearing had become exceptionally sensitive; at the slightest disturbance, even in sleep, he could react instantly. Unlike before, when he was working and had to set multiple alarms to wake up early—if sleepiness lingered, he would lie oblivious like a dead pig, the phone’s alarm vibrating in vain, unable to rouse him. Now, though, at the moment he opened his eyes, he was invigorated by the enhancement of his Child’s Skill, “Breath of the Rising Sun,” and his spirit was multiplied a hundredfold.

…

After a restless night, Chen Jue finally rose at eight in the morning. He washed up, planning to break through both Taiji Fist and Standing Pillar skills at once, and headed to the kitchen to stew fish gelatin. He meant to borrow another clay pot from the guesthouse aunt for brewing a Tenfold Vitality Soup at breakfast. Combining nourishment from food and medicine was a precaution against the potential siphoning effect when both skills broke through, which could exceed his expectations.

After all, Taiji Fist and Standing Pillar were both level three skills, soon to be advanced to level four or perfected, the highest level techniques on his profile.

The stove had been scrubbed clean the previous night by the aunt, spotless, but she had only checked the surface—nothing in the cabinets had been touched. As soon as Chen Jue opened the cabinet to fetch fish gelatin and the medicinal ingredients, his nose twitched. Amid the scent of fish gelatin and medicine, he detected the unfamiliar trace of a man’s sweat.

In fact, these few drops were left when the buzz-cut bodyguard had slipped in the previous night, exerting himself several times to lift the two-hundred-kilogram dumbbell, consuming physical energy, and then, while searching the kitchen cabinets, inadvertently left behind traces. Before sneaking in, this Ajun had eaten a hot meal, generating body heat from digestion; coupled with his determination to match strength with the dumbbell, sweat flowed more readily—just as ordinary people sweat from forehead and back when eating hot food. Moreover, it wasn’t sweat from gloved hands, but droplets sprayed from his forehead and nose while sniffing the medicinal pack and fish gelatin. The cabinet had remained sealed, preventing the sweat’s odor from dissipating.

Even Ajun himself, the buzz-cut bodyguard, likely had no idea he’d left such a flaw—a clue that wasn’t a clue. Chen Jue’s discovery of this foreign scent was a testament to his successful cultivation; his constitution was exceptional, and his hearing, smell, sight, touch, and taste all surpassed ordinary limits, allowing him to glean so much information from a few drops of sweat.

Of course, the perfected Child’s Skill played a role, since infants and pregnant women are famed for extraordinary sensitivity to smells. Chen Jue’s training maintained some organs as keen as a child’s—his nose could detect scents imperceptible to others.

“Someone came in last night?”

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“No wonder I felt uneasy all night!” Chen Jue became instantly alert, inspecting the fish gelatin and Tenfold Vitality Soup ingredients thoroughly—fortunately, neither the food nor medicine had been tampered with. But the traces of unfamiliar sweat lingered like a fishbone stuck in his throat.

He recalled carefully, “When I went down the back cliff last night, I sensed someone watching me—most likely the bodyguard tailing me from the rooftop of the neighboring building.”

“And the front door was locked. Only the aunt had a key. The only way to sneak in was through the back door!”

Chen Jue’s thoughts raced; he set aside the idea of stewing fish gelatin for now, hurried to the back door, and examined it carefully. The aunt’s thorough cleaning had erased any fingerprints from strangers. He pushed open the door and looked into the backyard, where faint shoe prints, nearly invisible, were exposed in the mud between the bricks of the flower garden path.

Squatting down for a closer look, Chen Jue found these prints matched the patterns of standard leather shoe soles. Last night, the darkness and the distraction of the aunt cleaning indoors had kept him from noticing. Moreover, these bodyguards had made a mistake—they didn’t put on shoe covers before entering, only donned gloves and covers at the back door, evidently believing Chen Jue was just an ordinary person and grew careless.

“Well, well!”

“Seizing the chance to sneak in when I’m off guard?”

“I have no enmity with you, so why probe my background?” Chen Jue followed the tracks, eventually finding a cluster in the backyard of the neighboring villas—clearly the work of those wealthy bodyguards.

After all, why would bodyguards come to his villa’s back door without reason?

Yet he wondered: how did he, a powerless young man, attract the attention of the wealthy neighbor? Had the tycoon’s sudden early departure somehow involved him?

Chen Jue’s mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, chaotic and uneasy, a smoldering anger rising in his chest. But the neighboring family had already vanished, and he had nowhere to vent his frustration.

He could only grumble a few curses, return to his room to stew the fish gelatin, then head to the first villa to borrow breakfast from the Yu family.

Because of the typhoon, Uncle Yu and his family were home, having just finished breakfast. The three sat drinking tea and watching television, which broadcasted morning news and scrolling typhoon alerts.

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Breakfast consisted of seafood, fried eggs, and alkaline noodles, along with steamed siu mai bought from the market. Chen Jue, gloomy, wolfed down a large bowl to fill his stomach.

While eating, his alert ears caught Yu Yue chatting with his parents about the tycoon from last night, saying their yacht hadn’t left yet—it was still docked at the fishing village pier.

Suddenly, Chen Jue’s spirits revived!

“Heh! So you want to probe my background?”

“Then I’ll probe yours! Courtesy demands reciprocity!”

Chen Jue ate breakfast silently, sipped hot tea to soothe his throat and calm his anger, then borrowed another clay pot from the guesthouse aunt.

Since the family ran a row of guesthouses, and often had tourists staying, with frequent mishaps damaging equipment, the Yu family's storeroom was stocked with daily necessities; there was a whole stack of clay pots in the corner, clearly bought wholesale online.

Chen Jue carried a clay pot back to his villa, started brewing Tenfold Vitality Soup, and, since the rain had not yet begun, braved the level eight or nine sea winds and took a stone staircase up to the small hill beside the back cliff.

At the top of the hill stood a wooden-fenced observation deck, with a blue wooden windmill and several swings—a spot usually favored by tourists for its ocean view.

Now, it had become Chen Jue’s lookout over the entire village, a vantage point to locate the tycoon's yacht!

He scoured the beach, and when his gaze crossed a small hill, he spotted, in the adjacent fishing village pier, a luxurious yacht moored conspicuously apart from the simple fishing boats—its black and white grandeur unmistakable.

“There are quite a few villagers around there!”

“And it’s close to the main road—looks like there’s surveillance cameras?” Chen Jue pondered, studying the yacht, then descended the hill and returned to his villa.

Now, armed with martial skills, his courage had grown; he was no longer the meek office worker who endured scolding without protest. He decided to wait until nightfall before making a move on the yacht.

He would avoid the usual paths to evade surveillance, aiming for a ghostly approach so that the tycoon—whom he’d never met—would never suspect him, no matter how hard he racked his brains.

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