Although his own suspicion had been cleared, the culprit had not yet been found. Naturally, Duanmu Huai proceeded with the most normal step in detective work—investigating the crime scene.
Returning once again to the smoking room, Williams' corpse still lay face-down on the ground at the center of the mysterious magic formation.
Seeing this scene, everyone couldn't help but shiver.
This time, accompanying Duanmu Huai were Williams' bodyguard Dort, Doctor Rose, and a female student from the Graduate Institute named Elita.
They came along as representatives with Duanmu Huai—partly to monitor each other and partly to serve as witnesses.
As for the others, they were all locked inside the observation deck, guarded personally by Lorena.
Duanmu Huai had absolute confidence in Lorena's combat ability.
In fact, arranging for Lorena to guard them also had a bit of a fishing intent.
If that idiot murderer thought Lorena looked easy to deal with and tried to attack her, then Duanmu Huai believed Lorena would definitely let him experience the heavy weight of the holy tome in her hands.
"How long have you been his bodyguard?"
Duanmu Huai asked while staring at the corpse before him.
Dort paused for a moment before answering.
"Not long. In fact, he only hired me recently. So I'm afraid I don't know much more than you do."
"Oh?"
Hearing this, Duanmu Huai turned toward Dort.
Originally he had assumed she was Williams' long-time personal bodyguard.
Now it seemed that wasn't the case.
"Why did he hire you?"
"I'm not entirely sure."
Dort sighed.
"He only said that his past kept troubling him, and that there were hidden dark threats or something like that… In fact, you saw it too. Ever since boarding the airship, he kept himself locked inside the cabin. Except for me, he wouldn't open the door for anyone else. I don't understand why he would leave the cabin and come here."
"Maybe his nicotine addiction hit and he couldn't resist coming for a cigarette?"
"I don't think so. He doesn't smoke. He has asthma. That's one of the reasons he hired me—he needed someone who doesn't smoke at all."
"So he had no reason to come to the smoking room."
"Yes."
At that moment, Dort seemed to remember something.
"Oh right. He kept a diary. He was always writing in it. I remember he once said that some cult needed his blood to accomplish a dark purpose. He told me that the reason he chose to hide and run away was to prevent some indescribable terrifying existence from being released into this world."
"But even now, I haven't seen anything capable of destroying the world… Could you let me see that diary?"
"I think so. I'll go look for it."
After saying that, Dort turned and left.
Duanmu Huai stepped forward, grabbed Williams by the collar, and lifted the corpse up like lifting a cat.
From this angle, the massive wound across his throat was clearly visible.
Black blood flowed from it like thick crude oil, dripping to the floor.
Hmm… alright, I understand now. The truth is obvious. The culprit is the U.S. military.
"…Sorry, what did you say?"
"Nothing. Just talking to myself."
Duanmu Huai curled his lips and then coldly glanced at the ground.
Perhaps the others hadn't noticed, but when Duanmu Huai first entered the cabin earlier, he had indeed sensed a dark, cold, ominous aura.
Unfortunately, that didn't matter anymore.
Whatever magic that idiot cultist had tried to cast had already been dispelled the moment Duanmu Huai stepped inside.
What remained now was simply a very ordinary postmodern abstract art magic circle pattern.
In fact, it wasn't just the circle.
The entire room was covered with runic symbols drawn in blood.
No wonder the others had been too scared to enter.
"How much blood do you think was used here?"
Duanmu Huai asked Doctor Rose.
Rose frowned, staring with obvious disgust at the blood symbols covering the room.
"Honestly, I don't know. One liter? Two liters? I must remind you that movies and television are inaccurate. Even if someone's throat is slit, a normal person wouldn't bleed out this much in such a short time. Especially since this man's blood is extremely viscous…"
"That makes sense."
Duanmu Huai nodded.
But at that moment—
"Meow!"
The black cat lying on Duanmu Huai's shoulder suddenly seemed to notice something.
It gave a soft cry, then leapt lightly from his shoulder and landed on the corpse.
After circling around the neck area, it tapped its paw toward Duanmu Huai.
Duanmu Huai leaned closer and looked where the cat indicated.
Then he saw it.
At the collar behind the victim's neck was a small burn mark, with traces of ash stuck to it.
Duanmu Huai rubbed the ash with his finger and brought it to his nose.
Soon, a bitter tobacco smell reached him.
At that moment—
Duanmu Huai's consciousness suddenly became dazed.
The world before his eyes twisted and tilted.
Then his perspective changed.
He was no longer standing.
Instead, he felt like he was lying on the ground—just like the corpse itself.
He gasped desperately for air.
But no matter how hard he tried, no air entered his lungs.
All he could do was feel the blood pouring out of his throat.
Standing before him was a vague shadow.
The only thing he could see clearly was a faint spark between the figure's fingers.
Then the shadow lifted the spark.
In the next moment, Duanmu Huai felt a burning pain on the back of his neck.
Then everything returned to normal.
Duanmu Huai snapped back to reality.
Frowning, he stared at the mark before him.
What was that just now?
Did I awaken some new ability again?
He checked the system.
But the system was just like the corpse before him.
Cold.
Silent.
Not a single response.
Could it really be dead?
Duanmu Huai shook his head and returned his attention to the corpse.
If the vision he had just seen was correct, then the sequence of events would be:
Williams was killed by the culprit.
The killer stood in front of Williams' corpse watching him die.
Then he raised his hand and took a drag from his cigarette.
The ash fell onto Williams' neck.
Alright.
The culprit was a man.
And a smoking man.
The suspect pool shrank further.
According to earlier testimonies, around 5 AM, the captain, the navigator, and Arthur had smoked together.
That meant those three were smokers.
As for whether the other two male students from the Graduate Institute smoked, Duanmu Huai didn't know.
Dort's words also reminded him of something important.
The victim had asthma and couldn't tolerate cigarette smoke.
That was why he hired Dort—a woman who didn't smoke—instead of a male bodyguard.
Similarly, one reason he locked himself in his room might have been to avoid smelling smoke from other passengers.
Which created a contradiction.
The murderer was a smoking man.
The crime scene was the smoking room.
A place the victim should have absolutely avoided.
Yet he still came there.
And died there.
Hmm…
"Here's the diary."
While Duanmu Huai was thinking, Dort returned with a diary.
"I found it under his pillow."
"Alright, let me see."
Duanmu Huai opened it.
Everyone knows normal people don't keep diaries.
So conversely, people who keep diaries are usually not normal.
And that was indeed the case here.
The diary covered a large span of time.
Fortunately, Duanmu Huai skimmed through it quickly and soon understood its contents.
In simple terms:
Williams was originally a typical rich second-generation heir.
He had money, status, and businesses.
Through an introduction, he joined a small private club among the upper class.
Such private clubs were common among elites, so Williams initially had no suspicions.
But the longer he stayed in the organization, the deeper he became involved.
And he gradually sensed something was wrong.
Honestly, a group of rich kids gathering to drink, throw orgies, ride horses, take drugs, and play golf could still be considered normal social activities.
But when those same people put on black robes, dressed like wizards, and sacrificed deer heads before statues of indescribable monsters—
any sane person would realize that was definitely not normal social behavior.
So Williams panicked.
He tried to leave the club.
But they refused to let him go.
They even attempted to assassinate him once.
Williams narrowly escaped and fled elsewhere.
But it didn't end there.
Not long ago, Williams learned that these people planned to hold another terrifying ritual.
They wanted to use his blood to summon a "monster".
So he decisively chose to flee.
Sigh… such a perfect commission…
Reading this, Duanmu Huai couldn't help but sigh in regret.
This was clearly a job meant for him.
If Williams had just seen his shop's advertisement, he wouldn't have died so miserably.
Too bad.
It was too late now.
So based on the diary's contents, it was obvious.
The murderer who killed Williams and conducted the ritual here must be a member of that cult organization.
And the name of that organization…
Well.
It wasn't unfamiliar.
Nor entirely familiar.
Because just a few days ago, Duanmu Huai had dealt with them.
That's right.
Silver Twilight Lodge.
Why are these damn bastards like cockroaches? They're everywhere.
Duanmu Huai silently sighed and closed the diary.
"Alright. We're done searching here."
"Let's check the other places."
(End of Chapter)