I'm writing a fictional immortality script in Detective Conan.

Chapter 280 The Dark Hunt! The Encirclement of Ireland

The heavy impact nearly pushed Fanze off his seat.

"Ugh, cough cough!"

The force forced air out of his lungs, and Fanze Zhenren, barely suppressing the urge to vomit, immediately realized his predicament.

Worse still, the force traveled up the shoulder and elbow to the handlebars, causing the motorcycle to instantly lose its balance. The front of the motorcycle swayed violently from side to side, beginning a deadly wobbling motion!

'We need to come up with a solution quickly, otherwise, if the motorcycle loses its balance and falls into fast-moving traffic—we'll die!'

First, the vehicle must be kept stable. Recalling his instructor's words, Fanze quickly adjusted his movements.

Motorcycle death sway often occurs at high speeds, where the front wheel loses coordination with the rear wheel due to the loss of focus, causing the front of the motorcycle to swing violently.

The worst thing you can do when encountering a dangerous sway is to panic and try to manually straighten the steering wheel or apply the brakes to slow down. These actions often increase the risk of a rollover. The correct procedure is...

"Clamp your legs tightly around the fuel tank, bend forward and lower your center of gravity to your waist, while simultaneously releasing your grip on the accelerator and slowly letting the steering wheel swing back to center naturally."

With a quick and correct adjustment, the violently shaking vehicle did gradually stabilize, but the real battlefield is always unpredictable and allows no room for hesitation.

Seeing him slow down, the Toyota Hiace behind him floored the accelerator and accelerated, crashing straight into him from behind!

Boom! !

The moment he was rear-ended, a huge force suddenly came from behind, causing Fan Ze, who was not holding the handlebars tightly, to lose his grip and be thrown into the air, separating him from the motorcycle!

After a dizzying, throbbing sensation that seemed to shake his head, Fanze Zhenren rolled awkwardly onto the windshield. After struggling a few times, he lay still, his fate unknown.

"Tsk!" Upon seeing this, the driver inside the car drew his pistol and was about to aim it at the pile of obstacles that were seriously obstructing his view.

Snapped.

"Idiot! What are you doing? Trying to smear blood all over your windshield?!"

Ireland slapped his hand away and angrily berated him over the radio, "And you lot! Who gave you the audacity to act on your own?! Do you want to die?!"

The driver, who was about to explode, was startled by his fierce expression and murderous aura emanating from his bloodshot eyes. He could only rub his wrist and mutter in dissatisfaction:

"He was dressed all in black and suddenly walked through our convoy. Aren't the brothers worried about being chased by the organization?"

"You fucking..."

Ireland couldn't help but laugh in anger.

Seeing this, the driver smiled ingratiatingly and said, "Hehehe."

"What the hell are you laughing at!" Ireland slapped him on the back of the head, almost ready to shoot. "How many times have I told you, keep a low profile in the car! He's just an ordinary motorcycle enthusiast passing by. Are you a code name member or am I?"

"What if the organization finds out?! Are you going to carry Gin's Osprey?!"

Awakened by the argument, Tequila, who was tied up in the back seat, saw the figure on the hood of the car. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widened, and she struggled with small, whimpering cries.

Hearing the noise, Ireland glanced back and warned, "You better behave yourself."

"It would be wise for me to bring this guy's body in and leave Tokyo before the police and the organization discover our whereabouts."

As he spoke, Ireland reached out an arm and grabbed Guinness's limp ankle, pulling him back.

Just as he grabbed it, a hand wearing a motorcycle glove tightened its grip on his wrist from the opposite direction!

Ireland:!!!

Looking up, the rider in black who had been lying on the front of the vehicle had already gotten up. He pulled up the visor of his helmet, revealing a young, resolute face, with the pins of two bullets between his teeth. That was—

Grenade!

In a flash, taking advantage of Ireland's momentary daze, Fanze Zhenren bent his whole body like a shrimp, and suddenly exerted force in his waist, abdomen and upper arms. With the pull, he slipped half of his body into the car window like an eel!

Ding, ding.

Two oval-shaped black shadows rolled off his left hand, along the asphalt of the road, and under the escort vehicle behind him.

Boom! Sizzle—

A thick cloud of smoke burst from the compression chamber, obscuring the vision of the following vehicles. The high-powered grenade easily blew through the chassis, ignited the fuel tank, and instantly turned the fragile sheet metal frame into an inferno!

The out-of-control escort vehicle swayed and changed lanes like a headless fly, triggering a series of chain collisions.

Inside the target vehicle, Ireland reacted quickly, grabbing the passenger seatbelt and swiftly wrapping it around the attacker's neck.

Guinness never expected his reaction to be so swift and skillful. Before he could struggle, Guinness chopped him on the back of the neck with a chop, knocking him unconscious.

"call!"

Ireland breathed a sigh of relief, pulled the criminal, who was half-stuck outside the car, into the vehicle, handcuffed him, pulled his head out of his helmet, and tossed him into the back seat where he and Tequila were.

"Aren't we going to kill him?" The driver looked at the two people in the rearview mirror, his mind racing.

Ireland waved him off: "Keep it. He's a code name, so he should know about the organization's subsequent arrest plan."

"Codename member? So young?"

The driver looked at the young man in the rearview mirror, who was so dizzy he looked like a dead pig, and couldn't believe it.

He wasn't particularly muscular, and had the appearance of a native Japanese. Aside from his quick thinking earlier, he seemed like just another ordinary prospective criminal in Beika Town.

Ireland snorted coldly, then his face darkened as if he had just thought of something: "What do you know? The organization never retains people based on age or seniority. The evaluation of codename members depends entirely on that gentleman's decision... Doesn't Lord Pisco's experience prove it?"

The driver immediately shut up, not daring to provoke him.

Lord Pisco's death was the final straw for these old-school forces, truly chilling everyone's hearts.

Over the years, none of the elders who followed that man in building the organization and overcoming difficulties have survived. The more honest ones died from the torment of illness and old age, while those who tried to fight back were all suppressed, and the entire party was wiped out without a complete corpse.

When a person is about to die, having toiled for the organization for half their life, what's wrong with wanting to prolong their life? Even if they set aside their dignity and weep bitterly, the response from above will always be: "[The organization's promise remains forever, and that gentleman will lead everyone into the future.]"

A promise? A promise that cannot be kept is just a promise.

Rather than believing the organization's claims that "that gentleman truly possesses the secret to eternal youth," the organization's higher-ups and old-school members are more inclined to another possibility—that the boss currently directing things behind the scenes has long been replaced by someone else, and that the original gentleman may have died at his hands.

Now that their former master is dead, it's morally their duty to avenge him. Layers of resentment have piled up endlessly, until this time, after long lying low, they finally found an opportunity: the support of a member with a codename!

Suddenly, a green shadow flashed in the rearview mirror!

An indigo Lamborghini burst out of the fog and slammed into us from the side!

The car window rolled down, revealing Sugrid's cold face.

Ireland's heart skipped a beat when a 40mm grenade launcher was pointed at his face!

“Just come back to the organization with me.” Sugrid’s hand was firmly on the trigger, as if any sway of the car would make him fire. “You have nowhere to run, Ireland.”