Chapter 52: French Cuisine

Across from the Morie Apartments, in a building above a bar, Shuichi Akai and several colleagues discussed their operational strategy in Japan.

“In any case, for now, our priority is to integrate into the local life,” declared James Black, the highest-ranking FBI official currently stationed in Japan, setting the basic guideline.

“The organization is deeply concealed, and Japan is their stronghold. We must be extremely cautious here. Akai, you have undercover experience—tell us about their members. Akai? What are you looking at?”

“Nothing, just something caught my attention. Someone gave me a strange feeling...” Shuichi Akai withdrew his gaze from the direction of the Morie Apartments. Even though it was just a faint dot, that silver hair...

Could it be the person who killed Akemi?

But now was not the time to dwell on that. He put aside his tangled thoughts and began outlining the known members of the organization.

“First, their chief field operative, Gin. This man...”

“Vodka, Gin’s driver...”

“Chianti, the sniper...”

“...”

“Finally, an unknown target, presumed to be a new member. Characterized by silver hair, codename unknown, specific appearance details unknown.”

“Fighting ability assessed as extremely strong, other details unknown. Currently classified as highly dangerous.”

James nodded. “Good. Next, the FBI will arrange jobs for everyone.”

“Everyone must fully integrate into local life. All operations are temporarily frozen. Report immediately if anything unexpected occurs.”

The team nodded in agreement.

Shuichi Akai opened his pocket watch, glanced at a photo of Akemi Miyano, then closed it.

I will find your sister and take care of her.

And your revenge...

But Akai was not one to be overly consumed by personal grudges. Soon, he shook off his gloom and parted ways with his colleagues to leave the bar.

Arriving beneath the Morie Apartments, he checked the location and then left without looking back.

...

Two days later.

Since the Black Star incident, Sonoko Suzuki had been persistently inviting Morie out, both overtly and subtly. After several refusals, she finally reached the limits of social etiquette.

In other words, refusing again would be impolite.

This time, the invitation was to attend a French cooking class. The owner, Michi Uemori, was a renowned French cuisine instructor in Tokyo. Her newly released French cookbook was a hit, and Sonoko studied under her. Since Morie was "French," she thought to invite him. As companions and cover, Ran Mori and Conan also came along.

Although Morie was a staunch lover of British cuisine and only somewhat appreciated French food for its flavor, presentation, and nutrition, he was happy to attend if not required to praise it—simply invited to taste.

At the Uemori residence.

“The teacher is quite strict, Morie-kun, so be careful,” Sonoko Suzuki briefed Morie and Ran on the upcoming precautions. “Ran usually has cooking experience, so she should have no problem. Morie, since you’re French, you should be familiar with French cuisine...”

“I only eat it; I can’t cook it,” Morie sighed. “Wasn’t it agreed that I was just invited to taste?”

“Don’t sign me up for learning to cook French food without asking!”

“Don’t say that, making French food is quite charming,” smiled Yuko Komiyama, Michi Uemori’s assistant who greeted the four upon arrival.

“I heard French cuisine is one of the best in Europe!” Conan eagerly added. “Though British food seems...”

What’s wrong with British food?! Can’t British food be eaten?! Morie held back his irritation, after all, his public identity here was French.

Damn Frenchies!

“Exactly. That’s one of the reasons I started learning French cooking,” said a man entering with a smile, the ring on his right index finger gleaming. “Yuko!”

“Mr. Nishitani’s back!” Yuko Komiyama introduced him to the group. “This is Hiroaki Nishitani, one of the teacher’s graduated students.”

Coincidentally, a woman wearing an eyepatch over her left eye emerged from the back room, stretching lazily. “I’ve slept a long time...”

“Kaoru? What happened to you?” Yae Yashiro, a middle-aged woman radiating intelligence who had been quietly sitting nearby and a close friend of Michi Uemori, pushed up her brown sunglasses and glanced at Kaoru Uemori’s eyepatch with some puzzlement. “Why are you wearing an eyepatch?”

Kaoru hesitated, then shook her head. “...Nothing, just a stye.”

“So where is the teacher?” Ran Mori looked around, noticing the main figure, Michi Uemori, was not yet present. She asked with some curiosity.

“The teacher went to the beauty salon,” Yuko Komiyama explained.

“Beauty salon?”

“Yes, because the teacher’s new cookbook is a hit, and there’s a celebration banquet tomorrow, so...”

“Hmph, yes, her ‘original’ cookbook,” Yae Yashiro emphasized the word ‘original.’ “Even though a third of it was painstakingly developed over five years by you, Yuko, and she still calls it original?”

“Well, she did revise it...” Yuko tried to defend the teacher.

Yae Yashiro scoffed, “A little tweaking doesn’t count as her own creation.”

Morie gently nudged Sonoko Suzuki’s elbow. “Sonoko.”

“Hm?”

“You said they’ve been close friends for 30 years?”

Sonoko had indeed introduced them that way when she arrived.

“Um... uh...” Now she could only scratch her head awkwardly.

“No matter what, this is a matter between teacher and disciple, right?” Hiroaki Nishitani frowned. “It’s best we outsiders don’t interfere.”

Yae Yashiro, however, was blunt: “Yes, but you’d better find a way to please her. After all, she’s considering cutting your funding.”

This guy just managed to offend everyone... Morie was speechless.

At last, the long-awaited Michi Uemori arrived, fashionably late. Instantly, a large crowd gathered at the door, shouting, “Teacher, welcome back!”

Whoa, such a big fuss? Conan twitched at the corner of his mouth.

The plump Michi Uemori appeared to weigh around 160 pounds. She looked around at the respectful faces and smiled with satisfaction. “Sonoko Suzuki, good that you came this time; I want to see if you’ve improved.”

Oh no... Sonoko sighed inwardly.

“You must be the Ran Mori Sonoko mentioned. Remember to study seriously.”

Then she noticed Morie casually strolling over.

“What’s with that attitude?!” Her eyebrows shot up. “You come to learn cooking without respect for your teacher?”

“So, you’re the ‘Frenchie’ Sonoko talked about. Don’t think just because you’re French, you know French cuisine!”

Is this woman on edge? Morie twitched at the corner of his eye.

“So what if I’m French? I want to see...” She glanced sideways at Morie, then went into the back room to change.