Conan was originally wondering because he never thought that he would end up in such a place one day.

Not only is it strange, it’s also a bit awkward.

He has always believed that Japanese justice will not discriminate against anyone, and he always sends criminals to the police station.

I just didn’t expect that the first time I saw a loophole in the judiciary would be on myself.

In my situation, I shouldn’t be taken to prison at all. It would be enough to be taken to the Metropolitan Police Department’s detention center and have my statement taken.

As a result, he was sent directly to prison, and no one came to ask about his situation. This made him suspicious the whole afternoon.

Of course, his symptoms made it suitable for him to stay in Green Dolphin Prison for a few days, and hear from these guys who had escaped legal punishment and lived freely for who knows how many years about the fairness of Japanese justice.

Conan, who was leaning on the small bed with his hands on his head, suddenly heard a noisy sound coming from outside.

At first he didn’t care, but then he suddenly thought, No! Am I not in a detention center?

He clearly remembered that when he was brought in, there was a locked glass door outside.

With such a strong wind, the glass door must have been opened, and the wind speed outside must have been incredibly fast for him to notice it.

And soon, it wasn’t just sounds anymore.

A shrill sound like the howling of ghosts came from the small iron-barred window of the detention room. It was the sound of the wind sweeping into the room. Conan, who was lying on the small bed, could also feel the strong wind blowing on his body, causing the bow on his chest to spin.

Conan’s rich detective experience made him instinctively feel that something was wrong. He sat up suddenly, a feeling of unease lingering in his heart.

No! Why is there a draft here? There shouldn’t be any other ventilation in this room except that window! This wind is like someone is blowing a hair dryer through the small window.

This isn’t a concentration camp, and the wind isn’t poisonous.

An inexplicable uneasiness made him stand up and tentatively call out to the porch.

Although he didn’t remember seeing anyone on duty in the detention room before entering, the door was always open…

“Hello! Uncle? Aunt? Is anyone there?”

What responded to him was the increasingly sharp sound of the wind and the “pat! pat!” sound like wet seaweed drooping on the ground.

Are those footsteps? It’s a little strange, but it’s good to be around!

Conan was delighted, but then he heard a voice coming from the wind.

“Should I say lucky? I was just looking for something I lost, and I found such a unique offering…”

The voice had an ups and downs, an odd pronunciation, and it wasn’t Japanese.

It’s Russian!

As a young genius, Kudo Shinichi can communicate with others in Japanese, German and English without any obstacles. He can also read Braille and has some knowledge of French and Russian. The only thing is that there is a word that is a little unfamiliar to him, which makes it difficult for him to identify it.

But the situation in front of him still made him extremely nervous. He looked around and simply rolled up the quilt from the bed and placed it in front of the door. Then he folded his glasses, prepared to step on the quilt to reach the windowsill, and then use the camera function of the glasses to see what was going on outside.

Conan stepped nimbly onto the rolled-up quilt and pushed upwards. The wind that seemed to be blowing the skin off his face seemed to be a little weaker. He put his two little arms on the railing and straightened his back so that he could see clearly.

At this moment Conan realized that it was not that the wind had stopped, but that a man was standing at the window, blocking the wind.

As soon as he raised his head, he saw a pair of blue eyes that revealed a coldness.

Conan was frightened and fell backward suddenly.

Then something even more terrifying happened. He saw the door lock turning…

He immediately squatted down and pressed his sneakers, and an inflatable football shot out from underneath.

His football is extraordinary. He has shot criminals, grenades, and even kicked an out-of-control maglev train off track at the Tokyo Olympics held just last year.

It was difficult for others to shoot down a satellite with a stone, but he actually shot down a satellite with a football.

Since his debut, only Kyogoku Makoto has stopped his football.

Watching the arc of the door lock turning, he held his breath and turned on the amplification of his power shoes. No matter what the purpose of the visitor was, he would stop him first.

“Shh!”

The football suddenly shot out and expanded at the same time the moment the goal opened!

Then the ultimate football leather that could withstand explosions and bullets suddenly burst open, and was casually pulled away by the man behind it like a rag.

The football that was said to be invincible has fallen!

Moreover, the man didn’t even have the key in his hand, and his hand facing the door frame was just holding the air.

He used air as a key?

This was Conan’s last question before he fell into a coma.

When Kerry arrived in a jeep amid the prison’s red alarm lights and sirens, all he saw were several prison guards lying in a bloody mess and a tall man walking out of the prison.

Beside him, Conan was floating around like a baby being dragged by the wind.

The man looked to be nearly two meters tall, with flaxen long hair that was unkempt and even had tangles, hanging wetly on his body. He had obvious East Slavic features, and the clothes he wore were completely ill-fitting, with many places even torn, looking as if they were forced on.

His whole body was wet, like a homeless man running wildly in the rain.

But when he saw Kerry’s car, he did not run away, but instead looked at the trunk of the car.

“Thief.”

Russian words came out of his mouth.

His expression turned ferocious and angry when he saw Kazuma.

However, Kerry and others are not strong enough in martial virtue to communicate with him.

Xiangzi drew his bow with his left hand and let go without saying a word. Continuous beams of light shot towards him like a rain of light, while Kerry also gathered in a jeep and stepped on the accelerator to rush towards him.

“How far are you going to provoke a son of God?”

As the man shouted angrily, his body suddenly exploded.

It instantly swelled up. Two meters? Three meters? No! That gigantic figure was probably over twenty meters long!

In front of a body six or seven stories high, the prison’s five-meter-high escape-proof wall looks like a building block toy at a child’s feet.

Xiangzi shot out a lightsaber with enough force to kill the vengeful spirit instantly, and it pierced his instep, but it was like a few burrs from wheat ears piercing a person’s body.

There was a large amount of blood flowing from there, which was a lot for a human, but it was just a “Band-Aid” coverage for the giant.

In this gloomy sandstorm and rain, the huge human figure whose head seemed to be supporting the sky had his upper body hidden directly under the gloomy sky. Only a deer antler as big as half a vehicle could be seen on one side of his head.

And those eyes that were like headlights were flashing with strange light, glaring at the bottom through the rain and fog.

The prophesied creature, the Son of the Wind, fully reveals his presence here.