In the wine cellar, the detective found a wall brick with a different texture.
So he pressed hard on it, but it didn't move at all, nor did he hear any strange sounds when pressing down.
Tan Xiaohe, who was standing by, couldn't help but say, "Why don't you try pulling it out?"
The detective paused for a moment, and then took off his hunting hat, retrieved a piece of wire from inside it, and inserted it in the crevice of the wall. After prying the brick out slightly, he was able to slowly extract it with his fingertips.
Finally, the dark wall brick was indeed removed by him, and he reached into the empty space, feeling something at the top that could be pressed.
"Click."
The whole wall, as if a lock had been released, its seams misaligned, revealing a door that was ajar.
The detective's eyes gleamed slightly, "It seems I may have found the evidence."
…
In a dim corner of the courtyard, after pulling out the gardener from where he was huddled and interrogating him uncalmly, the photographer abruptly stood up and turned towards the storage room where the tools were kept.
The short-statured gardener curled up on the ground, muttering to himself, "It's not my fault, it's not my fault," but such reassurances seemed ineffective.
As if he had seen something in the air, he began to feel an inexplicable fear and tried to scurry back into the bushes. Yet, seeing the neatly groomed, lush green embankment, he suddenly startled and jumped back.
At last, the gardener let out a low growl, hugging his head and trembling incessantly on the ground. The mysticist had opened the darkness in his heart, and he truly feared that the ghosts would come for him.
Every night he would see a white figure drifting in the backyard, impossible to catch, and come dawn, the soil of the grass embankment would be turned upside-down, as if something below wanted to break free, or, perhaps, something was looking for its own body.
Remembering these things made the gardener increasingly afraid; he feared that after his master's death, he would be next.
And then that mysticist found him, telling him there were things wandering around him…
The girls had come back!
…
In the pavilion of the courtyard, Miss Painter finished her drawing, put down her brush, and looked up at the clear sky.
After a night of heavy rain, the day turned out to be clear and sunny. Looking down from the mansion located halfway up the hill, she could see cars moving along the mountain road in the distance.
The girl packed up her sketchbook, looked up at a corner window on the second floor, and then turned back into the villa.
Some servants were cleaning around, all moving with bowed heads and cautious hands, as if they were afraid to disturb something, spreading a repressive and somber aura throughout the mansion.
On the sofa, Zhan Qian sipped tea while perusing the newspaper, while far across from her, the chef played with his phone.
Both seemed quite comfortable. Seeing Miss Painter come in, they just glanced up; yet Zhan Qian seemed to think of something and looked over again.
Miss Painter took a seat on a single sofa, and a maid came to pour her some black tea before quietly retreating.
"Have the police arrived?" Zhan Qian asked.
"Any moment now," replied the painter girl casually as she sipped her tea, her demeanor towards Zhan Qian carrying a hint of disdain.
"Speaking of which, the era of this game world seems quite different from ours; detective culture is very popular here, and all sorts of strange cases often occur," Zhan Qian continued nonchalantly, unfazed by the painter's attitude.
"Oh," answered the painter perfunctorily.
"It sounds somewhat like the world of a certain death god in elementary school," Xu Shuo across from them chimed in with a smile.
Zhan Qian was a bit put off by him and, smoothing her hair, continued, "I wonder where exactly this system has sent us. Although this is a Scripted Murder Game, the NPCs here feel very real indeed."
They have their own thoughts and characters, as well as their own motives for acting, and at times, they can make one forget that this is a game world.
Xu Shuo suddenly said thoughtfully, "If a game this highly immersive were to appear in real life, it would probably be really popular, too bad current virtual technology isn't there yet."
Zhan Qian glanced at him, noticing that this guy was playing mobile games inside the game and still thinking about games in reality.
Their conversation gradually drifted away from the Scripted Murder Game, and Miss Painter looked at them, didn't say anything, when suddenly, there came thumping sounds from the second floor.
It sounded like someone was running anxiously.
They looked up and saw that someone's boyfriend, who had only woken up by now, came running down with a face that was a mix of shock and latent fear.
Xu Shuo cast a concerned look his way, "What's wrong, you look like you're not in good spirits."
"I... I have to tell you guys..." Yang Ming ran down, clutching his tablet tightly, swallowed, and said, "I think I've discovered the biggest secret hidden in this manor!"
He thought that since he had already completed his main task and the game was going to end in two hours, it didn't matter if he was now opposing someone else's task.
So he couldn't be the only one to have his worldview shattered like this!
Zhan Qian raised an eyebrow, her face showing an expression of not being surprised, and said, "What secret, tell us about it?"
"Words alone aren't enough!"
Yang Ming, full of excitement, sat down, waved away the maid who came to offer him tea, opened the tablet on the table, and said, "Just watch it for yourself! Don't blink!"
Suddenly, Xu Shuo stood up and said, "You guys go ahead and watch, I need to use the restroom."
"Hey hey hey bro, don't go!" Yang Ming tried to retain someone to join him in his shattered worldview, but the young man turned and left without paying any attention to him.
Zhan Qian withdrew her gaze from the young man's retreating figure and turned to look at the tablet on the table. A video was playing, starting with a dark room.
Zhan Qian: "..."
It looked like she could already anticipate what it was.
Although she had accidentally learned the whole story from the gardener, who was not good at handling scares, she actually didn't have a clear impression of how those things happened.
...
In the underground chamber below the wine cellar.
The detective had completely lost his previous nonchalant demeanor. He looked around at the bloodstains that had congealed in various places in the underground cell, took off his hunting hat, and pulled out a small camera from inside it.
The pitch-black walls were hung with various instruments of torture and some fetish gear, and opposite a chair for restraining people was a computer and a sofa chair.
It seemed the owner of this chamber had a very twisted hobby.
Tan Xiaohe looked up at the ceiling, noting that the only camera in the entire manor was installed here.
She could almost imagine the scene with people being captured and bound to the chair, the perverse laughter of Little Black, and the screams of fear and despair merging together.
Tsk, Tan Xiaohe shivered, rubbing the goosebumps on her arms.
"Girls shouldn't be watching this; you can wait for me outside," the detective said, seriously collecting evidence, and seemed to sense someone behind him, uncharacteristically speaking with a rare touch of chivalry.
"Earlier, when you said not to casually climb the stairs in the forest or heedlessly enter the houses in the mountains, did you mean this? Did you already know all this?" Tan Xiaohe did not leave; instead, something suddenly occurred to her.
"We've had our suspicions about this manor for years, but we've never had solid evidence, and because of pressure from Guo Corporation, we haven't been able to get a search warrant, so it was delayed. However, with this evidence, they won't be able to escape," the detective said while taking photos.
"So that means, that guy..."
Tan Xiaohe narrowed her eyes slightly; she remembered the person who had guided her to find the wine cellar, and just then, she heard a slight noise from behind her.
Click... the sound of something being chambered.