Brian looked weakly at his furious partner.
In his eyes, the person pointing at his nose and scolding him was a petite girl with long, curly red hair—Ada.
Even in anger, she had a flirtatious air.
Brian thought infatuatedly, even resisting the urge to reach out and pinch the cheeks flushed with rage.
But reason didn't allow it.
He realized that the Ada before him was, in essence, his partner.
"This isn't working."
Arthur looked at Brian's lecherous expression and just wanted to punch him.
"I'll have to report this and request the detective department send someone else to assist the investigation," Arthur said coldly, his tone resolute.
With that, he turned to walk out.
"Wait, wait, wait! Don't! Arthur!"
Brian tried to stop him.
Just then, the door was pushed open from the outside.
Another figure walked in.
Long red hair, familiar eyes, and even the walking posture... well, this one was a bit bow-legged.
But without a doubt, it was Ada.
Brian was stunned.
He looked left at "Ada Number One," who was about to leave, and then right at the newly entered "Ada Number Two."
Now, two Adas stood before him—one was Ada, and the other was also Ada.
This was practically heaven!
Or was it hell?
If two ex-girlfriends appeared at the same time and started arguing, it would be the end of the world.
"Arthur, I probably haven't slept off the alcohol yet," Brian muttered to himself.
The newly arrived "Ada" didn't give Brian much time to think; she spoke immediately.
"Brian, it's rare to see you willing to crawl off the floor to work."
The voice carried a sense of pressure from years of giving orders.
"However, I have some bad news for you."
"The coroner just examined the body in the temporary autopsy room downstairs."
The Ada at the door pulled a briefing from her coat, her brow furrowed.
"What's certain is that the time of death wasn't long ago, likely within half an hour before we received the report."
"In other words, we responded very promptly; one could even say the body was still warm when we arrived."
"But other than that, there's nothing special; we haven't made any progress with the information we have so far."
"How is that possible?"
Arthur took the briefing and quickly scanned its contents.
"What's even stranger is the cause of death."
This Ada lowered her voice, seemingly finding the matter somewhat embarrassing.
"The coroner said that although the gunshot wound to the chest was severe, even piercing the lung, it wasn't the fatal injury."
"Not the fatal injury?" Arthur and Brian asked in unison.
"The victim's true cause of death was... brain death."
The superintendent pointed to his own head.
"Aside from that gunshot wound, there are no external injuries, and no signs of poisoning."
"But he's just dead."
"The eyewitness testimony is also of no reference value; we seem to be at a dead end."
Arthur faintly felt that this matter held an unspeakable eeriness.
This wasn't just a simple murder case.
The hotel waiter heard the gunshot and immediately reported it to the manager, who sent someone to report the case; the reaction could not be called anything but swift.
The police station was only two streets away, and he had already examined the body when they first arrived.
Aside from the splattered blood, only the bullet that had passed through the victim remained.
Yet the bullet head had vanished into thin air after leaving a hole in the wall.
They had even chiseled a hole into the wall to look for it.
Furthermore, the doors and windows in the room were intact, with no signs of forced entry.
The killer was like air; after firing this shot, they had vanished without a trace.
They had even taken the bullet with them.
While Arthur was thinking, Brian was also thinking.
However, the direction of his thoughts was slightly skewed.
He was trying hard to distinguish whether the talkative Ada before him was the police chief or the superintendent.
"Ahem!"
The Ada at the door cleared her throat.
"Superintendent!" Brian suddenly shouted excitedly, his expression like seeing a long-lost relative.
"What? Did you find something?"
Superintendent Ada looked suspiciously at this subordinate whose mental state was clearly abnormal.
"Uh... well, no."
Brian instantly wilted and scratched his head.
"I just think that you look exceptionally... beautiful today."
"..."
The superintendent and Arthur glanced at each other, both seeing a deep sense of helplessness in the other's eyes.
"Brian, can you actually do this or not?"
The superintendent frowned, his handlebar mustache twitching.
"If your brain is truly broken, I can specially authorize you to stay at Landon Asylum for a few days, on the public's dime."
"Don't! I can do it! I'm just... adjusting my state!"
Brian quickly stood at attention.
"From the time of the incident until now, we've cordoned off the entire hotel; I haven't even let a cat leave."
The superintendent's face was very grim.
"But, we've found nothing."
"Ahem!"
"Just now, the owner of the Golden Rose arrived."
At the mention of this person, the superintendent's cheek twitched.
Arthur looked at the bitter-faced and somewhat frantic superintendent, also feeling a bit awkward.
This matter was indeed troublesome.
The Golden Rose was the most high-end hotel in Hope County; those who could stay here were either rich or noble.
Now that a murder had occurred, and it was a cold case with no evidence, it was practically a disaster for the police station.
The superintendent leaned in, disregarding his image, and whispered to the two:
"You know, that guy knows the county governor!"
"The chief probably found out about this case because of that!"
"I just went to report to the chief, and he told me to get lost!"
"The pressure on me is really huge!"
The superintendent appeared somewhat frantic.
"Can you imagine?"
"I had just entered the office, hadn't even said two words, and I was kicked out."
Arthur patted the superintendent's shoulder understandingly.
"It's normal for the chief to be in a bad mood if the case can't be solved immediately," Arthur comforted.
"After all, if the higher-ups blame him, it won't look good for him either."
"Don't take it too much to heart."
The superintendent nodded, seemingly thinking Arthur's words were quite good.
"That new female secretary of the chief has a rather white and perky backside."
"When I went there, they were on the sofa..."
As the superintendent spoke, he even made a very vivid gesture with his hands.
Arthur was quick and immediately covered the superintendent's mouth.
"That's enough, Superintendent, any more would be impolite."
It's no wonder he told you to get lost!
"Mmm mmm..."
The superintendent struggled twice, signaling he wouldn't say more.
Meanwhile, Brian was listening with great interest.
He was just about to hear the rest.
However, as partner Ada covered superintendent Ada's mouth, Brian's gossiping heart was forced to stop.
It was at this moment.
In the gray sky outside the window, the clouds seemed to crack open a gap.
A beam of noon light pierced through the gloom like a sharp sword, stabbing diagonally into this room filled with a stale atmosphere and the smell of blood.
The light wasn't intense.
It crossed the windowsill and shone onto the giant bookshelf in the corner of the room.
It was a very grand mahogany bookshelf, deep red throughout and carved with intricate patterns, reaching all the way to the ceiling.
It was filled with heavy books, though most were likely decorative pieces no one would ever read.
Brian's gaze subconsciously followed the light, sweeping toward the massive bookshelf in the room.
It was originally just an unintentional glance.
Wait!
What did he see?
Brian froze for a moment.
Due to the angle, a glint of reflection happened to shine on the inner wall of the bookshelf's compartment.
That was a blind spot usually covered in shadow; no one would normally notice it.
Look again!
Brian whipped his head around, narrowing those eyes that always looked drunken and dazed.
This time, he saw clearly.
On the polished, smooth inner wall of that mahogany bookshelf.
A series of messy handprints were exceptionally obvious in the reflection.
They extended from the side of the bookshelf all the way to the top.
Brian didn't speak.
Like a ghost, he walked silently toward the bookshelf.
As the distance closed, the details of that corner became clearer and clearer.
He followed that series of eerie handprints upward.
His gaze crossed those rows of gold-stamped book spines, finally landing in the deep shadow at the top of the bookshelf.
There seemed to be a dark clump of something there.
No, it wasn't a thing.
Brian looked up, locking eyes directly with a pair of eyes in the shadows atop the bookshelf.
They were a pair of terrified, panicked, yet eerily familiar eyes.
Long red hair hung down from the shadows.
It was very obvious.
Hidden on top of the bookshelf was an Ada.
Rate on N.U.
