Oritis in the world of Detective Conan

Chapter 484 Cleanup Operation (Part 8)

Even if this group of people managed to make it to the next flight of stairs, they would still be attacked by glue and metal scraps in turns, one to break their defense and the other to deal real damage.

As for whether these people live or die, it depends on their luck. The rest of the matter can be left to the public security. The people in Oletus Manor are too lazy to clean up this mess.

The chaos at the pharmaceutical factory is still going on, but things seem to be getting a bit peaceful at the food processing factory because the people who come here are not survivors or supervisors who can make a lot of noise.

The gravekeeper, dressed in a black trench coat, seemingly blending in with the opposing team, calmly attacked from behind, giving a Black Organization member a concussion with a single shovel. The opera singer, a silent shadow, ruthlessly harvested the lives of Black Organization members in her path.

"It's worthy of being a super-powerful agent. It can wipe the knife so quickly." The gravekeeper stuffed some corpses into the extra-long passage built by the priest on the side. After all, these corpses would be wasted if they were not used. The doctor's experiment would require a lot of corpses, and he could make a small profit this way.

The Shadow of Time and Space controlled the Is people to roar and drove some members of the Black Organization into the corridor where the opera singers were. It was not because she could not beat these people, but because her knife-wiping speed was too slow.

Another person using the super-strength agent was the fisherwoman. She was now holding a harpoon, covering the entire building with water vapor, and from time to time she would knock down those who tried to escape and throw them back into the water circle.

"It's a pity there is no basement here, otherwise it would be convenient to let the Is people gather everyone in the basement and let Miss Grace pack the steam." The toy merchant now turned into an arms dealer and pocketed all the weapons brought by the Black Organization.

The batsman on the side was not idle either. He used his explosive power to destroy all obstacles at the fastest speed. Wooden doors, tables, and benches were all smashed to pieces by him so that the opera singers would not get stuck.

Looking at the scene that looked like it had just been through a violent demolition, the batsman nodded with satisfaction. "I didn't expect someone would actually hide private money in the compartments of the cabinet. I'll gladly accept it."

The person in charge of collecting the information was the postman, who was walking alone in the corridor swept by the opera singers, humming a little song about delivering letters. The dog Wick beside him was also jumping around, as if he knew that they would soon receive a lot of "letters".

The violinist was supposed to come, but the opera singer thought that someone was a little unreliable and might sneak away to have fun while their cleaning work was in progress.

So the violinist is now locked in the undertaker's coffin. The undertaker completely ignores the pleas of the person inside and swings the hammer again and again, trying to nail the coffin lid shut.

"Don't be like this, Aesop, I finally have a chance to go out! Give me a chance!" The violinist's spirit of escape was very tenacious. At this moment, he was controlling his hair to pass through the gap between the coffin boards to block the undertaker's actions.

The twisted hair stretched out and wrapped around the undertaker's wrists and waist, and a few strands even tried to take off the undertaker's mask.

"Oh, dear Aesop, please let me go out. I promise I won't embarrass you."

The undertaker felt the hair that was about to come into close contact with him, and immediately threw away the hammer. He used his hands to pull off the hair that was trying to make trouble, then took several steps back. Finally, he showed an expression that was difficult to describe, and quickly left the room.

The violinist slowly pried open the coffin lid and poked his head out. "Hey, I knew Aesop wasn't good at dealing with situations like this. It turns out it's necessary to use high-quality hair oil to maintain your hair every week."

"I know nothing about hair care, but I know one thing now, Mr. Antonio: you are the culprit behind the disappearance of the hair oil in the men's bathhouse!"

The violinist, who was still slowly crawling out, turned around in surprise and saw the undertaker standing expressionlessly behind the night watchman and the archer. The archer had already drawn his bow and aimed at the hair he had been maintaining for a long time.

The night watchman also came over with a stern look on his face. "Did you use the oil-control, fluffy shampoo I keep in the bathroom? I've only used it three times myself, and when I used it the day before yesterday, there was only a little bit left!"

"Hey, wait, I can explain..." The violinist shrank back into the coffin guiltily. "Well..."

"And you secretly used up Mr. Joseph's, Mr. Jack's, and Mr. Philip's shampoo, and even Mr. Xie and Mr. Fan's hair soap!"

"Hey, I was wrong, don't hit my face! Aaaah, aaaah!"

[Soul of the Umbrella (white): I was wondering how come there was only so little soap left so quickly.]

[Wax Artist: You deserve it! I specifically chose that shampoo, a strong oil-removing type.]

[Photographer: Jack, do you also use shampoo?]

[Jack: I'm not bald, I have hair!]

[Sculptor: I didn't realize that. Your original skin is just a skeleton, how can you have hair?]

[Spider: Oh, Violetta thinks Mr. Jack is handsome even without hair!]

[Acrobat: Hahaha!]

[Joker: Ha, Jack, you've come to this day!]

[Jack: That new escape artist has no hair either, why is he staring at me?]

[Magician: My hairlessness is an accident, but you are different.]

[Adventurer: So Mr. Jack's high-end fashions almost all have hair. It turns out hair = looks.]

This food processing plant did not seem to be an important base, so the cleaning speed was not slow, but the gravekeeper found something strange in a room.

"Are there any signs of mycelium contamination here?"

The batsman came over and said, "It seems so. These people wouldn't be so crazy as to add mycelium into food!"

"It should have just leaked from the laboratory here. Mycelium is not added during the food processing process." The toy manufacturer spoke after carefully checking the production line.

As the group gathered around the production line, pointing and chatting, a mailman appeared, carrying a large stack of paperwork, and the dog, Wick, clutching a USB drive and carrying several tablets. Wick handed the USB drive to the toy seller and squatted there with a sullen expression, as if accusing them of not helping him move the paperwork.

"Sorry, Wick, we didn't mean to not help Victor, it's just that we're full of things." The toy merchant showed off her arsenal. The other-dimensional doll box was filled with various guns and ammunition. Even the shelf where she usually placed the small dolls to comfort people was crowded with grenades. It was obvious that she really couldn't spare the hands to help the postman.

The gravekeeper looked at Wick with a guilty look on his face. In order to make money, the corpses he had just thrown into the priest's door key had already emerged. The black halo of the door key began to ripple, as if silently accusing this blasphemous act.

At the same time, the priest's accusing voice rang out from the other side of the door key: "My door key is not the morgue! Hurry and send someone to move them away!"

Half a minute later, the pile of corpses finally began to shrink. As the last corpse was swallowed by the black light, the priest on the other side angrily closed the key to the door, leaving only four people and a dog looking at each other in bewilderment.