Chapter 5: The Suspect  

"I don't care what anyone says—I believe in Roy!" 

Billy smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he mocked Needy. 

"Oh, come on, Miss Straight-A Student, are you supporting Roy just because he's good-looking?" 

The classroom erupted into laughter, especially among the boys. Meanwhile, the girls exchanged glances, some looking at Needy with thinly veiled hostility. 

Needy had never been the center of attention in class—except when exam results were announced. Now, with all eyes on her, the socially anxious girl felt overwhelmed. The stares from certain girls were particularly unsettling, filled with barely concealed malice. 

It was a well-known fact that school bullying was often driven by girls. Unlike boys, who usually only bullied other boys, girls didn't discriminate by gender—their targets could be anyone. 

Needy's initial defiance wavered. She suddenly wished she could disappear into thin air. 

Fortunately, her best friend Jennifer stepped forward, positioning herself protectively in front of Needy, blocking out the hateful stares. 

"The police only said Roy is a suspect in a second-degree murder case. Nothing has been proven yet! Why are you all so eager to judge him? At least wait until the court makes a decision!" 

As the captain of the cheerleading squad, Jennifer was used to being in the spotlight. Her strong personality and commanding presence gave her a queen-bee aura, and very few girls dared to meet her gaze. 

Just like that, the classroom drama came to an end. 

"Jennifer, thank you!" Needy mumbled, keeping her head down, not noticing the complicated look in Jennifer's eyes. 

"Needy, you should walk home with me today. I don't trust them—they might try something." 

Needy hesitated for a moment. 

"Jennifer, I actually wanted to stop by the police station after school to see Roy. Will you come with me?" 

"Of course! We're best friends, aren't we?" 

Needy clung to Jennifer's arm. 

"Jennifer, you're the best!" 

 At the Police Station 

Meanwhile, at the town's police station, Roy was being treated surprisingly well by Sheriff Hughes, who had provided him with food and drinks. 

"Damn, kid! I had no idea you could throw punches like that. Why are you playing football? With your skills, you could be a pro fighter!" 

"Well, Falls High doesn't have a boxing team, does it? So, football was my only option." 

Sheriff Hughes took a sip of coffee. 

"You think the killer will come after you?" 

"I'm about 80% sure." 

In horror movies like *Scream*, the Ghostface killer was always bold and unpredictable. If Hughes spread the right information, the killer would definitely take the bait. 

"80%? That's a pretty solid chance. Alright, I'll leave you the key to the cuffs—just don't die on me, kid!" 

"Relax, Sheriff. Even if you die, I won't." 

Roy wasn't joking—he was genuinely warning Hughes. 

In horror films, characters like Hughes—the middle-aged, well-meaning sheriff—rarely made it to the end. Roy found him likable and honestly hoped he wouldn't meet a gruesome fate. 

"Hah! I fought in Vietnam, kid. It's gonna take more than this to kill me!" 

Oh boy. That sounded an awful lot like a death flag. 

Just then, one of Hughes's officers walked in. 

"Sheriff, there are two pretty girls here to see the suspect—Roy Black." 

"Oh?" Hughes turned to Roy. "They friends of yours?" 

Roy instantly knew who they were. 

"Yeah, they're my classmates." 

Hughes waggled his eyebrows at him. 

"Damn, kid, juggling two girls at once?" 

Roy rolled his eyes. This guy, seriously. 

Though, considering his current physical condition, handling two—hell, even five—wouldn't be a problem. 

During his time in the cell, Roy had finally figured out what he'd gained from his "starter pack." 

Mike Tyson's boxing skills? No need to explain—everyone knew about those. 

Bob Munden? The fastest gunslinger in history, capable of drawing, aiming, and firing in just 0.21 seconds. 

And then there was Grigori Rasputin—one of the most infamous figures of 19th-century Russia. According to the system, this guy had used his... unique talents to seduce nearly every noblewoman in the Russian Empire, including the Tsarina herself. 

As for those "talents"? Well, let's just say they included a 28-centimeter *baton* and an otherworldly presence. 

Sheriff Hughes left the cell to let the girls in. A moment later, Needy and Jennifer stepped inside. 

Needy immediately gasped. 

"Roy! Are you hurt?" 

The cut on Roy's face—courtesy of the Ghostface killer's thrown knife—was now covered with a bandage. 

"It's nothing," Roy said casually. "Just a scratch. The doctor said it won't ruin my handsome face." 

He grinned, making a joke out of it. 

Needy and Jennifer both laughed. 

"You're still joking at a time like this?" 

But as Needy playfully smacked his arm, she suddenly felt self-conscious. The interaction was way too... couple-like. 

She tensed, aware of Jennifer's sharp gaze burning into her from behind. It made her uncomfortable—almost guilty. Quickly, she changed the subject. 

"Roy, what happened? Why are they accusing you of second-degree murder?" 

"It's a long story," Roy sighed. "Needy, do you remember last night when I walked you home?" 

Jennifer's expression shifted again, and Needy felt a prickle of unease. 

"What does that have to do with this?" 

"After I got home, I realized someone had broken in. I checked the kitchen cabinets and found... a dead body." 

"Oh my God!" 

Both Needy and Jennifer gasped. 

"Since the police couldn't find the killer, they made me the prime suspect and brought me in. But you two believe me, right? You know I didn't do it!" 

Needy nodded without hesitation. 

"Of course, Roy! Jennifer and I even defended you at school today!" 

Roy shot a glance at Jennifer, a little surprised that she had spoken up for him. 

"Oh? What happened at school?" 

"Your teammate Billy wouldn't stop talking crap about you. Serves him right for breaking his leg last night!" 

Roy's eyes sharpened. 

"Billy got injured? Which leg? Thigh or shin?" 

Needy thought for a moment. 

"His left shin. Why? Is something wrong?" 

Roy's expression darkened. 

Last night, he had shot the Ghostface killer in the left shin. 

And Billy—Falls High's star running back—was one of the fastest guys on the team. The masked killer had also moved with incredible speed. 

"...Nothing. Just be careful. It's getting late—you two should head home. And for the next few nights, don't go out after dark. The real killer is still out there." 

"Don't worry, Roy! We'll stand by you no matter what!" 

Needy and Jennifer left, their footsteps echoing down the hall. 

 The Night Falls 

Time passed, and soon it was nighttime. 

The police station was nearly empty—only Sheriff Hughes remained on duty, with Roy still locked in his cell. 

Then, suddenly, the emergency phone rang. 

A deep voice reported a car accident. 

Hughes grabbed his coat and rushed out. 

Now, Roy was alone in the station. 

A moment later, the lights flickered. 

Then, everything went dark. 

(End of Chapter)