There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

The detective glanced at her retreating back, then turned his gaze back to the few people on the sofa and asked Zhan Qian, whom he was relatively familiar with, "Miss Zhan, what are you watching?"

Zhan Qian maintained an elegant and calm expression with effort and said, "A video segment."

Tan Xiaohe, who had followed them, saw Yang Ming and guessed with high probability that the homebody must have already cracked that encrypted file.

This might explain it because when she entered the storeroom just now, she really hadn't had the chance to touch anything, let alone take something away. It was likely Yang Ming who had completed the task at that time.

So now, was this guy showing everyone the fruits of their task?!

Tan Xiaohe also moved closer, and just as the detective picked up the tablet to see what video Zhan Qian was talking about, they might all have had a premonition.

The video played in the video store, and the familiar secret room appeared before their eyes.

With an expressionless face, the detective watched the surveillance footage of Mr. Guo tying an unconscious girl to an electric chair and proceeding to carry out his evil deeds.

The video file contained a lot, unlike Zhan Qian and the others who stopped after watching just a few. The detective even opened and reviewed all the videos, gradually matching the victims with the characters in his mind.

Although the disappearance case on the mountain that year couldn't be thoroughly investigated, the power of Guo Corporation had fallen day by day thanks to the efforts of a few detectives, until now, when Gu Miao was able to freely enter the manor to investigate.

Even just now, Mr. Guo's criminal evidence had been found, and the existence of the video meant there was no room for any more prevarication.

But it seemed as if everything had lost its meaning.

Because it was already too late.

"So..." After watching the video, the detective shook the tablet in his hand, looked at the group with a meaningful smile, and said, "How did you get hold of these things?"

Zhan Qian and Miss Painter both looked towards Yang Ming.

Tan Xiaohe at his side seemed to be surprised as well, as if unaware of what her boyfriend had done.

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Yang Ming: "..."

He looked up at the high dome, then down at the floor, took a sip of the black tea from the table, and finally opened the system's task panel to check the two-hour countdown timer.

Yang Ming felt that he should be able to keep silent for the remaining hour and a half.

After all, there was no explaining this matter.

No matter how it was put, the fact that he had hacked into Mr. Guo's computer was established, and there was no way he could argue that these materials had entered his tablet by themselves.

And to admit it meant certainly facing even more questions.

But then again— he wasn't from this world, he was just playing a game, and now that the game was about to end, these people couldn't really do anything to him. He figured there wouldn't even be time to take him to the police station for questioning.

With this thought, Yang Ming felt somewhat relieved and began to focus on the patterns on the teacup.

The room fell silent, and everyone was speechless at his imperturbable attitude. At that moment, the photographer walked in with a grave face.

"Gu Miao!" The photographer was looking to verify some information with the detective and paused slightly upon seeing the unusual gathering of players in the hall.

"Ah, you're just in time, take a look." The detective turned and saw him, then handed over the tablet.

The photographer subconsciously caught the tablet, and the detective pointed to the play button for him.

[Congratulations on completing Task One: Finding the crime evidence of Manor Owner Mr. Guo.]

The next moment, the system's notification echoed in the photographer's mind.

He was silent for a moment, already aware of the full picture of the incident when he had interrogated the gardener in the backyard earlier. He had been looking for the detective to discuss some intelligence but had unexpectedly received evidence directly.

The photographer glanced at the beginning of the video and stopped watching. He handed back the tablet and, after scanning the hall, suddenly asked, "Where's the chef?"

All five players were present, except for the chef.

The detective naturally put away the tablet, not planning to return it to the homebody and said, "He should have gone to change clothes, he got wine spilled on him just now."

Since the detective said so, the photographer didn't suspect any further but asked again, "Where were you all just now?"

"We went to take a look at the crime scene."

"That secret room?" the photographer said.

"Yes, a sin that has lingered since three years ago," the detective nodded with a solemn face, "Madame Guo sent me a message for help back then, probably because she discovered her husband's deeds. However, you might have guessed wrong about one thing: Madame Guo and her husband truly loved each other."

The detective said the last sentence to Zhan Qian.

It was because earlier, while in the courtyard, Zhan Qian had uttered, "Mr. Guo didn't love his wife that much."

Hearing this, Zhan Qian rolled her eyes elegantly and did not speak. She still held reservations about her own views; if Mr. Guo really loved his wife, he should have stopped at that time.

The detective continued, "She loved her husband, so she couldn't betray him, but she couldn't accept or stop Mr. Guo's criminal actions either, which led her to choose suicide in the end."

"Mr. Guo knew all about this and found himself in the same predicament as his mother, hence he began to shut himself away. The old butler has served at the manor for decades and loved Mr. Guo as if he were his own son. He knew everything but indulged it," said the detective.

"It's a pity, they fell in love with a devil and descended into hell with him," came the final words not from the detective but from the chef who had changed and approached.

Xu Shuo glanced at the shaking butler, who was being attended to by a maid for his wounds, and sat on the other side of the couch, right next to Zhan Qian. She was so startled that she carefully shifted her thigh.

"What you said is correct," the detective said meaningfully, looking at him, "Concealing a crime is also a crime, especially this kind, with a devil."

Because of their silence and indulgence, nine girls suffered unspeakable torture over three years and died in agony and despair.

If not for this...

The detective frowned at the thought, then looked at the people present and said, "Although I don't know what brought you here, I hope that when the police arrive, you will all cooperate and provide your statements."

Hearing this, Zhan Qian smiled mysteriously, "Of course, but I wonder when the police will get here? Will they make it within two hours?"

The detective opened his mouth but before he could answer, another girl said with a faint sneer, "Don't worry, they'll be here within half an hour, I just saw their cars at the foot of the mountain. It might even be less than half an hour."

The one speaking was Miss Painter, calmly breaking Zhan Qian's mysterious superiority.

Zhan Qian had nothing to say, she just ran her fingers through her hair, still maintaining her poised demeanor, though what she might be cursing inside was anyone's guess.

The detective was somewhat surprised, "It seems they're moving faster than expected."

He had seen the extent of the landslide when he arrived and thought it would take until noon to clear, not anticipating it being done so soon.

If that's the case, then the other case will likely be resolved soon as well.

Although Mr. Guo was guilty, and unforgivably so, he should be punished by the law, not murdered.

Even if the murderer, in some respects, did a service by removing a menace, it doesn't change the fact that a crime was committed.

Thinking of this, the detective suddenly looked at Chef Zhang, who was playing with his phone on the couch, and then said, "Chef Zhang, may I have a look at your room?"

Xu Shuo waved his hand towards him, saying nothing.

The detective turned and walked toward his room, with the photographer following seamlessly behind.

Once inside the room and the door closed, the photographer couldn't wait to say, "Gu Miao, do you really think he killed Mr. Guo to avenge Madame Guo?"

The detective, stroking his chin, replied, "Don't be too excited, there's no evidence proving he's the murderer yet."

"My intuition," the photographer said, her expression obscure.

The countdown on the system panel may signal the end of the game for others, but for someone who still has a mission incomplete, it was the countdown to punishment.

Who knows what the punishment for failing this game could be!

The detective, who was bending down to check under the bed, responded in a subdued tone, "Is that so? I've heard you like to rely on intuition to solve cases, but such ethereal matters..."

Mid-sentence, the detective paused; his fingers brushed the floor under the bed, finding not a speck of dust.

The entire underside of the bed was dust-free, without any signs of dragging, and the room was spotless as if the occupant was someone who liked to keep things clean and even cleaned under the bed regularly.

"Quite clever," the detective murmured.