Right now Moriarty's presence has mostly slipped Conan's mind. No, right now all of his attention is on Gin and calculating how to get out of this situation.

Quickly Conan goes through his options. There weren't may. His position prevented him from reaching his shoes or belt. His only chance was his wristwatch. But he couldn't forget that this person had proven himself to be at least partially immune to the sedative before. No, the belt would be better. But he needed a distraction to reach it.

He glares furiously at Gin as he racks his mind for an idea.

"So? What will you do to me?" He chokes as the hand on his throat tightens.