Chapter 383: Secret Room Murder
Chapter 383: Secret Room Murder
“This time, it’s probably not the author’s smoke grenade…” Feng Bu Jue mused internally. “The Task has already updated, and given terms like Investigate the Scene and Wait for the Police, this definitely feels like a proper murder case.”
“Feng… Feng Mr.,” Barton stammered, glancing at Feng Bu Jue. “Did you hear that…?”
Feng Bu Jue replied, “Let’s go check it out first.” He strode toward the door, signaling Barton to follow.
The pair dashed down the corridor, sprinting toward the source of the activated voice sound system.
The scream had come from the first floor, the villa’s eastern wing—directly opposite Feng Bu Jue’s guest room.
Feng Bu Jue and Barton were the first to arrive. Rounding the corridor’s corner, they found Mrs. Carol, her face ashen, slumped on the floor. She muttered, “Oh… God… no… this isn’t real…” Her wide eyes fixated on the open door ahead.
“Ma’am, what happened? Are you alright?” Barton asked.
Feng Bu Jue barely spared Carol a glance before striding forward with a Meteor Strike, peering into the room.
From the doorway, a man’s corpse was visible, slumped in an armchair. His head tilted sideways, eyes rolled back, mouth slack, and his neck, collar, and shirt were drenched in blood.
Footsteps echoed as more arrived—Jack led the group, shouting, “What’s going on?!” Behind him followed Doctor Powell, Butler Henderson, and Mrs. Odette, their faces etched with confusion and dread.
Without a word, Feng Bu Jue rushed into the room before the crowd approached. He checked under the bed, wardrobe, and bathroom for anyone hiding, examined the victim’s wounds up close, confirmed Dennis’s death, then swiftly retreated to the doorway, blocking Jack’s path.
“God! Dennis!” Jack recoiled at the sight of the corpse, then tried to push past.
A firm arm barred him. “Stay out.”
“Who do you think you are?! Let me in!” Jack snapped.
“He’s dead,” Feng Bu Jue stated calmly. “You’ll only make things worse.” He added, “Unless you want to leave incriminating evidence at the crime scene, don’t step inside.”
By then, Henderson had reached the door. A single glance at the corpse made his face twitch violently. He clutched his chest and collapsed.
Jack, nearby, instinctively caught him. “Henderson! Are you okay?!”
Doctor Powell hurried forward. “He has heart problems! Quickly, lay him down.” He turned to Barton. “Mr. Barton, there’s a medicine case in my room. Please—”
“I’m on it!” Barton interrupted, sprinting back without waiting for Powell to finish.
As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Maid Oliver.
“What’s going on, Mr. Barton?” Oliver asked, puzzled.
But Barton rushed past, ignoring her.
Standing at the room’s entrance, Feng Bu Jue coldly observed everyone’s actions. He addressed Oliver, who stood at the corridor’s end.
“…Yes, Mr.?” Oliver asked, bewildered.
“Call the police,” Feng Bu Jue said flatly. “A murder has occurred here.”
Oliver gasped, startled but realizing the gravity of his tone. “Oh! How terrible!”
Feng Bu Jue had no time to soothe anyone. He turned to the stunned Mrs. Odette. “Madam, would you mind going to the second floor to inform your husband of what’s happened?”
“Hey! Staff!” Jack, still kneeling beside Henderson as the doctor treated him, glared up. “Who even are you? Since when did you take charge here?”
“I’m simply the calmest outsider here,” Feng Bu Jue replied, scanning the group. “Surely you all realize—where there’s a victim, there’s a killer.”
A collective shudder passed through the crowd.
“So until the police arrive, I hope everyone cooperates and preserves the scene.” Feng stepped outside, reaching to close the door, when he noticed—protruding from the corridor-facing lock, a Key.
“Mrs. Carol,” Feng asked immediately. “Was the door locked before you opened it?”
After minutes of chaos and more people arriving, Carol had calmed slightly, though she now sobbed uncontrollably, unable to answer.
“Please answer,” Feng pressed. “It’s critical.”
“Waaah… Y-yes,” Carol choked out.
“What’s that mean?” Jack demanded.
Feng Bu Jue pointed to the window across the room. “That’s the only window in the bedroom—closed, with the latch down. The layout mirrors my room, and the bathroom has a frosted glass window, barely ten inches wide. Impossible for anyone to escape through.”
Jack’s face paled. “You’re saying… the killer… is still here?!”
“Unlikely,” Feng countered. “Who would commit a crime, then secure the doors and windows and stay? I already checked—there’s nobody else.” He rubbed his chin. “Looks like… a Secret Room Murder.”
As he spoke, Barton returned with the medicine case.
“Quick! Hand it over!” Doctor Powell grabbed the case, swiftly administered an injection to Henderson, then listened with a stethoscope. He sighed in relief. “He’ll be fine. Just severe shock. Rest for half a day, and he’ll recover.”
Wiping sweat, Powell asked, “Jack, help me carry him to his room?”
“Fine,” Jack agreed, shooting Feng a sharp glare. “After all, we’ve got a great detective here to handle things.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
