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The shoe that Bohemia had been waiting for since entering the Prison Storm finally dropped.
However, the timing of its arrival was terrible as it coincided with Bohemia’s search for the serial killer. She stood up abruptly, about to walk towards the door, when the Pocket Dimension host stopped her. “Before you leave the office, you must reveal which one is the serial killer.”
Bohemia abruptly halted, causing the other two to cast several glances her way due to the suddenness of her action.
“After leaving the office, you will return to the main storyline of ‘Prison Storm.’ Therefore, before you leave, you must complete the mini-game,” the Pocket Dimension host explained.
But she had no clue at all!
“I’ll make a phone call first to check on Detective… Detective Gell’s condition,” she quickly came up with a plan and grabbed the phone on the table, asking her Sandwich Secretary, “What was the number again?”
“Now?” the secretary hesitated, standing by the door. “I think we should quickly gather the team…”
“In that case, you go handle it,” Bohemia waved him off. “I’ll go over later to see what’s happening. But Detective Gell is from the investigative bureau, and we can’t let anything happen to him in the prison!”
Finally, it seemed that her explanation was reluctantly accepted by the two. The man in overalls hurriedly followed the Sandwich Secretary and left. Bohemia dialed the number she had just obtained and quickly heard a voice on the other end saying, “hello.”
“It’s me. How is Detective Gell? What happened to him?”
As she spoke, she pulled the phone cord and approached the window, opening the blinds. In the exercise yard, dozens of orange figures were pushing, shoving, and running, repeatedly crashing into the iron wire fence. Even from her elevated position, she could faintly hear their shouts and screams.
The doctor’s answer caught her off guard.
“What?” Her voice suddenly rose, “I haven’t seen Detective Gell!”
Bohemia was taken aback and couldn’t help but glance at the Descartes Spirit, which was still attached to the phone receiver. From that chaotic mass, she naturally couldn’t see anything. Calming her mind, she asked, “I heard he had a spasm and was brought to your office?”
“No,” the doctor denied, seemingly also in shock. “I just found out about the riot and haven’t dared to leave my office. No one has come here during this time. Strange, if that’s the case, where did he go?”
Bohemia glanced at the water cups on the table again, feeling increasingly confused. After some thought, she asked, “Did you pour water for the two detectives who came in earlier?”
“No, your secretary did. He poured the water for them before the detectives entered.”
No wonder! She always felt that the doctor hadn’t left any water cups on the desk when she left. It wasn’t until the two detectives sat down that the water cups appeared. This explained it. It was normal for a secretary to pour water for visitors… However, if she remembered correctly, the Sandwich Secretary hadn’t entered the office from the beginning of the mini-game until now. According to the Pocket Dimension host’s statement that “one of the people who entered the office next is the serial killer,” it couldn’t be the Sandwich Secretary.
Then… was it not related to the water cups?
After hanging up the phone, Bohemia fell into a daze. After a few seconds of staring blankly, still unable to figure it out, she became increasingly angry. “This stupid game is so pointless! There aren’t enough clues! And now that everyone has left, who am I supposed to observe!”
“It’s not like there are no clues at all,” the Descartes Spirit spoke slowly, floating in front of a certificate on the wall, blurring the entire background into a mosaic. “In this situation, four people could be lying… You can try to reason and determine who is lying.”
“Huh?”
“You look so dumb like this,” the Descartes Spirit, forgetting that it was actually a prisoner of this fool, spoke bluntly. “Haven’t you thought of it yet? First, there’s your Sandwich Secretary. The story about Detective Gell having spasms may be something he made up. But I can’t think of any benefit for him to do that since he would be exposed with a simple question afterward.”
“The second person is the female doctor?”
“You’re not completely dumb. If she is the serial killer and wants to satisfy her killing desire, now would be a good opportunity during the riot when everyone is in chaos. Who knows who sent Detective Gell over, and whether the doctor personally received him? If she didn’t receive him, she can claim that she hasn’t seen him.”
“Would she be so audacious?” This is a heavily guarded prison, after all!
“You don’t know that female killers are different from male killers in that they are skilled at finding disguises in their daily lives—like nurses, wives, mothers, and various roles. With a disguise, they often kill openly and inconspicuously. You would never suspect that they are killing right under your nose. And I always feel that if Detective Gell had spasms, he was probably poisoned. Even if it wasn’t the secretary who poisoned him, it’s possible that the doctor took the opportunity to secretly poison him. Who knows, maybe the doctor had the secretary pour the water! But since she has so many suspicious points, she’s definitely not the killer—oh, but if you think about it the other way…”
It seemed that this Pocket Dimension always found a way to entangle itself.
“How do you know so much?”
Although the Descartes Spirit had no facial features, it still showed a hint of pride. “What do you think I ate posthumans for? It’s all to obtain the knowledge, wisdom, and experience in human brains. Mmm, the taste of that criminologist was quite good.”
Judging by its appearance, the absorption rate of nutrients after consuming humans shouldn’t be very high.
“Can’t you just read books?” Bohemia complained without delving deeper. “So, who is the third person?”
“Who else could it be? Detective Gell went out to smoke with whom?” Descartes Spirit retorted. “Your Sandwich Secretary only said he had spasms. We don’t know if he witnessed it himself. What if Old Shoes told him? What if Old Shoes killed him and lied about sending him to the infirmary?”
1
In that case, it was obvious who the fourth person was—Bohemia realized it and sighed, “Even Little Virgin is suspicious… It’s highly likely that he faked the spasm to create an opportunity for himself. I can’t distinguish anymore!”
“You can wait in the office without moving. Wait until the riot is suppressed, then send people to investigate what happened to Detective Gell… But you’re not doing a good job as the prison warden, and I think you’re going to be exposed even further,” the Descartes Spirit remarked.
Bohemia reached up and touched the onion on her head. Its smooth surface seemed to be sensitive to itching, trembling slightly as her finger brushed over it, drifting away a little.
She opened the blinds with a sense of dissatisfaction and muttered, “When Lin Sanjiu caused trouble for me, it was accurate every time. Why is it so difficult when I have to cause trouble for her? I have to find the killer first… Huh?”
“What’s wrong?” the Descartes Spirit immediately approached.
“That figure looks familiar… With the hat on, I can’t see the color of the hair. Is it Little Virgin or Old Shoes?” The person wasn’t wearing the investigative bureau coat, and if it weren’t for Bohemia’s posthuman vision, she probably wouldn’t have realized he wasn’t one of the guards. Blending in with the guards, he ran toward the prison yard along with the others, making it even harder to identify who he was. “It makes sense. There’s a prison riot, and they have to help.”
“Thanks to your good position, you can keep an eye on him…” the Descartes Spirit almost turned into a sheet of paper and slipped out of the window crack.
The detective who took off the investigative bureau coat was much more agile than the average guard. In an instant, he approached the fence. The attention of almost all the guards was focused on the exercise yard—they pulled out their batons and continuously struck and threatened the inmates, trying to make them retreat. So, except for Bohemia on the upper floor, hardly anyone noticed the detective reaching into his pocket, pulling out something black, and hiding it in the corner of his coat.
Concealed by his other arm, he stood among the chaotic and noisy crowd, scanning back and forth. From his silhouette, he appeared calm and out of place compared to the surroundings—perhaps because all the inmates crowded near the fence, he quickly found his target. With a slight lift of his other arm, the object hidden in his coat was partially revealed.
That gun definitely had a silencer attached.
Bohemia couldn’t even hear how many shots the gun fired. She only saw the detective’s shoulder tremble slightly, quickly tucking the gun away, taking a few steps back, and then disappearing from the crowd of guards. It wasn’t until the detective had completely vanished that the other guards finally realized that something was wrong. Suddenly, cries and curses erupted from the inmates in the exercise yard—it was normal for someone to fall when they were pushed during a riot. But it wasn’t until one person fell to the ground and a pool of blood slowly formed under them that the enraged inmates finally noticed that something was amiss.
“Did you see it clearly?” Descartes Spirit asked.
Bohemia shook her head. “No, but it’s definitely Old Shoes.”
“Oh? Why?”
“It’s simple. If this person is Little Virgin, why would he go to the trouble of pretending to have spasms? As investigative bureau detectives, they would definitely go to help suppress the riot. If Little Virgin’s goal is to kill a prisoner, then pretending to have spasms and temporarily leaving Old Shoes makes no sense… After all, he would eventually reach the edge of the exercise yard and might run into Old Shoes. When Old Shoes sees him, thinking, ‘Hey, aren’t you sick?’ it would raise suspicion.”
Descartes Spirit nodded approvingly. “I couldn’t tell, but you thought of the same thing as me. He couldn’t kill in front of Detective Gell…”
In that case, Little Virgin’s spasms were real, but he simply wasn’t sent to the infirmary by Old Shoes.
“Maybe they poisoned him a little, just to get him out of the way…” Bohemia picked up Little Virgin’s paper cup and murmured while looking at it.
The office fell silent for a while.
“I see that you’ve solved the puzzle,” the voice of the Pocket Dimension host suddenly rang out, startling both Bohemia and the Descartes Spirit. “So, do you want to officially tell me the answer?”
Bohemia stared at the paper cup, scrutinizing it for a while but remained silent. It was only after the Pocket Dimension host urged her again that she reluctantly opened her mouth, accompanied by an inexplicable sense of reluctance, and said, “The serial killer is Old Shoes—”
She abruptly stopped her sentence.
“Hmm? Who?” The Pocket Dimension host encouraged her to continue, “Is it the older detective?”
Old Shoes had undoubtedly killed a prisoner, there was no doubt about that. He was definitely the killer… but, but… something felt off.
Descartes Spirit suddenly exclaimed in Bohemia’s mind, “Wait! Don’t answer yet!”
“What is it?”
“I also feel that something is off,” the Descartes Spirit hurriedly said, “Have you heard of graphology? Different types of killers are driven by different motives, so their behavioral patterns are also different. Old Shoes’ behavioral pattern doesn’t match that of a typical serial killer! There was a study on male serial killers that suggested their killings were just the result of their desires. In other words, as long as their various sadistic desires are satisfied, the victim’s death is just a byproduct. But look at Old Shoes, he doesn’t derive pleasure from the act of killing, his methods are clean and precise, and he only targets a specific individual… more like a professional hitman, right?”
1
“That’s what you deduced from secondhand knowledge, can we trust it?”
Bohemia had just mocked him, but her voice suddenly trailed off, and she froze herself. After a few seconds, she asked softly, “Serial killer, serial killer, there has to be a ‘serial’ in it. But Old Shoes has only killed one person, so it doesn’t necessarily mean he is a serial killer…”
“Have you made up your mind?” The Pocket Dimension host seemed afraid that she would continue her train of thought and hurriedly urged her, “You don’t have much time left in your mini-game, and it’s almost time for me to reveal what your Target 2 is. You need to make a decision quickly. Let me see, you have ten seconds left—nine seconds—”
The host’s insistence overwhelmed Bohemia, and for a moment, she felt suspicious of everyone. It wouldn’t be surprising if she, as Sandy Winters, turned out to be the serial killer… She mentally replayed the entire mini-game, and the more she thought, the more entangled her thoughts became, fixating on one person she couldn’t escape from. So she simply shouted, “It’s the female doctor!”
After all, she had blood on her, so it must be her!
The Descartes Spirit sighed in her mind, as if he wished he could blow her brain out of her ears. “How could it be that obvious—”
The Pocket Dimension host paused and said, “You got it right.”