Chapter 20 Suddenly Completed the Task

Why ask that question of all questions!

In an instant, Zhan Qian's expression also became somewhat strange. She looked at the detective and said, "As a detective who likes to pursue practicality, why would Mr. Gu ask such a question? Do you believe in these things too?"

"So you mean you are fake?" the detective countered.

"..." Zhan Qian tugged at the corner of her mouth, glanced at him coolly, and said, "Mysteries are beyond words; if you believe, then believe, if not, let it be."

The detective smiled, a smile that begged for a beating, but he did not continue the discussion on this topic. He had simply taken a sudden whim to tease the beauty.

He walked out of the grassy mound, dusting the dirt off his hands, and turning to the butler, said, "I heard that a month ago, Mr. Guo pulled out all the roses he had planted for the former lady because someone sent him roses and threatening letters in the middle of the night. Now it seems this is true."

The butler's face turned ugly: "Mr. Gu, I would like to know how you found out about this?"

"A detective's information network is very broad; there's hardly anything I don't know about," the detective tapped his hat and gave the butler a somewhat meaningful look, then added, "While I don't care one bit about your master's relationship with his lady, now that it's your master who is in trouble, butler, are you still unwilling to reveal those secrets you're hiding?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Gu. You are here today to investigate the cause of our master's death, and I hope you will stick to your role," the butler said darkly and, not wishing to stay any longer, turned and left the courtyard.

Seeing this, the gardener who had been standing on the side, shrinking back, seemed even less willing to stay with this group of people and hastened to follow the butler out.

The detective shrugged as he watched them leave.

Upon seeing this, Zhan Qian asked thoughtfully, "Mr. Gu, have you found out anything?"

"A beautiful little white dress, which should suit Miss Zhan's figure quite well," the detective said, smiling and sizing her up with his eyes.

Zhan Qian had a tall stature, over one meter seventy, and the black hip-hugging mermaid long dress outlined her figure very gracefully.

Upon hearing this, Zhan Qian rolled her eyes elegantly and said, "Could you please be more specific?"

The detective smiled, "Mysticists probably all like to come out at midnight, don't they? Miss Zhan, you were invited to the manor to investigate, did you really not see anything last night?"

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Zhan Qian asked with a slight frown.

"We found a white long dress in the maid's room. The hem was a bit wet and had mud on it; it seems to have been in contact with roses." The one speaking was the photographer who was investigating with the detective. He continued in a steady voice, "The person who killed Mr. Guo might have used those items for something."

For instance, sending Mr. Guo a threatening letter in the middle of the night, along with some roses, and even the decaying rose placed on Mr. Guo's body that was found this morning was likely left there by the same person last night.

Zhan Qian's eyes widened slightly as she instinctively pulled up her task panel to look at it, and that completed Task One suddenly seemed particularly glaring.

If the system cannot make mistakes, then that thing she saw last night was indeed a "ghost," but if all of this was really someone disguising themselves...

The system was playing a word game with her!

And it made her treat the whole Scripted Murder Game like a Mutant Script!

Zhan Qian rubbed her forehead, recalling the scene she witnessed last night of the "ghost." The white figure indeed stood in the courtyard, and she could be sure that the person had already noticed her.

Perhaps they even let her discover them on purpose.

The person left the villa through the main gate, someone who was staying in the villa at the time, or perhaps just to place a rose in the master bedroom.

Later, when she talked with the butler in the study, she saw the white figure still in the courtyard. When she returned to her room and looked again, it was gone, but before that—

The figure that appeared in the hallway!

Zhan Qian fell silent, suddenly regretting why she hadn't burst out with social boldness at the time, brazenly turning on the corridor lights, so she might have seen more clearly who was in the hallway.

It wasn't like her to feel she had been blind then.

"Miss Zhan? Miss Zhan—"

The detective's exaggerated shout rang in her ears, and Zhan Qian quickly came back to her senses, retreating a step with disgust.

"Miss Zhan, from the look on your face, you must have remembered something," the detective said with a chuckle, not caring in the slightest, "Could you tell me about it?"

"Yes, I saw Madame Guo's wandering spirit last night," Zhan Qian said.

As her words fell, the photographer beside her showed a confused expression. He was about to say something, but the detective cut in with a laugh, "So, did Madame Guo convey any last wishes to you?"

Zhan Qian looked at him, calmly stating, "She wishes the truth about what happened back then would come to light."

As she spoke, she paused, glancing at the lush grassy area once more and added, "So many roses, what a pity to pluck them; it seems Mr. Guo didn't love his wife that much after all."

After finishing, Zhan Qian turned and left, her expression no longer as relaxed as it was at the beginning.

The photographer looked at her retreating figure, then turned to the muddy, disheveled grassy area and asked in a low voice, "How much longer until the police arrive?"

"They haven't responded to me yet; it could be a while longer," the detective shrugged.

If the police weren't here, even if they wanted to dig up the entire grassy area right now, they probably wouldn't be able to do it.

The detective looked around the courtyard and then saw a girl quietly painting in a pavilion not far away. Despite the commotion here earlier, it didn't seem to have affected her.

Past the pavilion and around the corner, a sleek figure opened the door and walked into the storeroom attached to the villa.

The detective paused, "What is that place again?"

He seemed to be asking the photographer, but it also seemed like he was just talking to himself. After saying that, he headed directly toward the place, looking up at the girl's painting as he passed the pavilion. After a glance, he continued on his way to the storeroom.

The photographer lingered slightly, looking at the artist girl's painting, and suddenly said, "Do you really know how to paint?"

After all, they were all outsiders who had suddenly entered this game called Scripted Murder Game, given a role, and forcibly began to do what that role entailed.

But as a photographer, he really didn't know how to take pictures.

The girl stopped drawing, turned her head and smiled at him, "Isn't this the kind of thing anyone can do with hands?"

The photographer looked at her silently.

On the painting, the grassy area was completely colored with roses, and a man resembling a gardener stood amidst them, swinging a hoe. The pencil's varying shades of black and gray sketched out a somber scene.

...

In the storeroom next to the villa's courtyard, Tan Xiaohe opened the door and peered inside to see a neat stack of work tools.

She was looking for the entrance to the wine cellar when suddenly, a system notification echoed in her mind, "Congratulations on completing the task: Steal the Manor Owner's treasure."

Tan Xiaohe: "???"

What? What had she completed?

She stood there dumbfounded, looking at the humble room filled with brooms, shovels, hoes, watering cans, and the like, feeling utterly baffled and perplexed.

What kind of treasure was this supposed to be?

More importantly, it seemed she hadn't even taken anything yet.

...

In a guest room on the second floor of the villa.

Within the locked room, Yang Ming slept against the wall on the floor, drooling, while the tablet he was holding showed the screen "Unlocked."