Transmigrated into Detective Conan

The familiar hum of your laptop faded as you yawned, stretching your arms above your head. Another amazing episode of Detective Conan finished. As a dedicated murder mystery fan, you’d been hooked since your friend first introduced you to it. Closing the laptop, you prepared for bed, the thrill of the animated case still lingering.

Suddenly, a soft, bluish-white light flickered into existence in the center of your room. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively recoiled, stumbling backward and crashing onto your bed. Rubbing the back of your head, you heard distant, urgent voices cutting through the strange light: "Aniki, the machine is not working. We need to close it down immediately!"

A wave of panic washed over you. Those voices… they were chillingly familiar. "It can't be!" you whispered to yourself.

Before you could fully process the thought, a strong, invisible force began to pull at you. You yelped, grabbing desperately onto your bed for anchor, but it was useless. With a disorienting rush, you were sucked into the glowing circle, the familiar walls of your room vanishing in a dizzying swirl of light and sound.

You landed hard, the impact jarring you. "Ouch, that really hurt," you mumbled, dusting yourself off. As you looked at your hands, a wave of disbelief, then shock, washed over you. They looked… animated. Just like in Detective Conan. Then, the memory of the voices hit you. "Gin and Vodka were there!" you exclaimed aloud. You pinched yourself, hard, hoping this was just a vivid dream. But the sting was real. There was no way… you had always dreamed of visiting this anime world, but not like this. Not by being thrown into it.