There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

Chapter 155: Chapter 151: Find Out the Cause of One's Own Death



[Side Quest: Find the cause of your own death.]

...

The system's voice suddenly rang within their minds.

Everyone: ???

The brightly lit villa suddenly darkened a shade, as if a mist had enveloped it, and from all directions, a spine-chilling malice assaulted them!

After the blind girl unhesitatingly voiced that "assumption," it was as though the seal of the Abyss had been broken, and the air inside the villa turned abruptly cold and oppressive.

This cognition seemed to be a concept in itself, as the reality of "death" loomed over them, the world as seen through their eyes seemed to have changed as well.

At this moment, all the players realized that if they didn't end the game quickly, they might encounter great terror!

Xu Shuo's expression remained unaltered, and without pausing, he continued, "Then, who will be found dead at those places?"

There was silence in the villa, no one answered him.

This fact made everyone's expression somewhat strange—if—

How is that possible?

If everyone is dead, then is everyone a ghost?

I put forward myself?

But the side quest given by the system can't be wrong, perhaps, after they each discover the cause of their own death, the answer will be revealed?

"What's wrong?"

The girl's voice, crisp and timid, broke the silence.

The dancer's voice followed shortly, speaking with a soft laugh, "Little sister has a good idea, we are pondering how exactly we died."

Xu Shuo glanced at the progress on the Character Card and continued, seemingly troubled, "Actually, although I was groggy when I woke up, I have the impression that there seemed to be only six people in the villa..."

The pianist's gaze flashed, and he was the first to snap back to reality and asked, "Six people? Why do you feel that way?"

"Ah, I can't quite explain this feeling, it's just... there might be one person I've never seen," Xu Shuo leaned back into the sofa, saying with a bowed head.

The girl looked pale and fragile, her slight figure almost buried in the plush sofa, and she appeared somewhat wronged and innocent when faced with the man's relentless questioning.

The dancer immediately extended her hand to comfort her and glared at the pianist, "Why are you being so harsh!"

The pianist: ??? His tone was quite normal!

The lawyer tried to smooth things over, "Since it's like that, let's temporarily go in that direction and guess, if there really is a seventh person who attacked us, then the traces around the villa might provide some clues."

"And among us, one person must invariably be the 'murderer,'" the female author said with an ambiguous tone.

"Guessing the murderer now probably won't be so smooth," the accused pianist grumbled with a sour face, "I believe no one will admit to being the 'murderer' willingly."

Just now, when deducing the deceased, they were all proactive, because it seemed there was more than one death, but now that everyone is a deceased, things become interesting.

The target had shifted from "deceased" to "murderer."

The male servant scratched his head, "So... are we not cooperating anymore?"

"This sort of thing is better done oneself," the female author said coldly, crossing her arms, "Because, even if we suspect you are the murderer, you definitely won't tell the truth, right? Just like before."

"Eh? How did it become me?" the butler was startled.

"You said you found the bullet under the table, but before that, none of us knew what the truth really was. What if you deliberately took out the bullet?" the female writer took the bullet from the lawyer's hand and held it up by the head.

"The manufacture of this type of bullet is not exquisite, and it's easy for the smell of gunpowder to linger." The female writer sniffed the bullet and continued, "If you had been holding the gun beforehand, the smell would definitely be on your hands, but it's different if you found the bullet afterwards."

The butler's gaze flickered slightly, "I did find the bullet under the table, and the blood splatter on the sofa could give us some idea as to how the victim died."

The female writer shrugged, "You're right."

She threw the bullet back to the butler and then dusted the soot off her hands.

"As for the chef..."

"If we keep speculating like this, indeed every one of us is under suspicion of murder," the chef interrupted her, speaking helplessly, "Now that it has been brought up, the brooch you're wearing, could it prove that you've had an affair with the pianist? As a co-owner of the villa, you could also have had access to the gun and the opportunity to shoot the lawyer!"

The chef's sharp words turned the topic towards the female writer and laid the reason for the existence of her brooch out in the open.

The lawyer innocently pointed at the top of his own head.

The female writer crossed her arms and nodded, "But in fact, it was proven before the pianist arrived at the villa that I could also play the piano. Why couldn't I have bought the brooch simply because I liked it? And if I really had an affair with him, wouldn't I have been too generous to wear the evidence right on my chest?"

The lawyer suddenly froze upon hearing this, subtly shifting his head and glancing out of the corner of his eye towards the second-floor study.

Although the female writer could claim she hadn't had an affair, the original lawyer had definitely been suspicious of his wife's infidelity, otherwise, he wouldn't have secretly taken those photos and drawn a thick red line between the female writer and the pianist.

However, in those photos, he seemed not to have seen a brooch on the clothes of the female writer.

The other party's word was right, it made no sense to display the evidence of one's own infidelity so conspicuously, let alone that recently the two seemed to have also shared a romantic candlelit dinner.

He must have missed some clue...

"So, even if we all have our conjectures, they're still of no use, are they?" the butler said at this moment.

"Isn't that obvious?" the female writer shook her head.

"Since that's the case, let's split up and look for clues on our own again~" the pianist said with a shrug, looking at the female writer who had just confronted everyone.

The two who might have been involved exchanged glances and quickly looked away.

Seeing that no agreement could be reached, the others could only reluctantly end the meeting.

They had gathered to find out who the "deceased" was, and now they were separating again to sift through the clues for the cause of their own deaths.

Was it death from a severed carotid artery? Or a gunshot? Or dismemberment?

Cooperation and sharing clues would certainly be the best way, but now no one trusted anyone else, and nobody was willing to tell the truth, so there was naturally no point in talking.

After all, there might still be a "murderer" among them who killed everyone.

The people in the hall scattered once more, each scrambling to find the cause of their own death.

After the veil of the group's demise had been lifted, a dark malice was closing in on the entire villa, as if a pair of cold eyes were watching them from somewhere, sending chills down their spines.

They all knew time was running out—although the rewards for the side quests were said to be quite nice, they still needed to escape from the Abyss first.

Xu Shuo had been quietly listening to their arguments and witnessing their rift from the beginning, obediently nestling on the sofa the whole time.

The progress of the Character Card moved forward once again.

The blind girl seemed to be playing the role of guiding them?


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