Jangxia Tongzhi turned around and, unsurprisingly, found that Conan had once again located the corpse with sniper-like precision—also managing to whack Jangxia in the ribs with a flashlight in the process.
The two girls next to him froze up like glitching NPCs.
A second later, their overlapping screams tore through the hallway, the pitch so sharp it could've shattered glass. Honestly, more alarming than any alarm bell.
Ran Mouri and Sonoko Suzuki huddled together again, eyes locked on Jangxia, sputtering: "You, you—"
"I didn't kill anyone," said Jangxia, deadpan.
The two girls clutched their chests and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, we thought so too—"
But before they could actually relax, Jangxia looked at them thoughtfully and asked, "You believe me just because I said so?"
"…"
Okay, that really sounded like the classic line right before a good guy jumps off a moral cliff and reveals he's the real villain.
The girls' eyes widened with fear: "!"
"I said, it's not me," Jangxia repeated patiently.
But this time, Ran and Sonoko still looked half-terrified and half-suspicious.
Jangxia watched their reaction, quietly amused. Yep, after being fooled by too many murderers, even these two bear children were starting to level up their suspicion stats.
Still, considering how many future corpses would probably be connected to Ran and Sonoko…
They were definitely valuable tools for ghost-picking. He should keep the relationship friendly.
So Jangxia softened his tone and explained, "What I said just now was just a normal question…"
He didn't even get to the rest.
His two classmates, clearly veterans at filling in blanks with dramatic assumptions, immediately supplied the missing dialogue in their heads: "I didn't expect you to think I was a murderer…"
Ran and Sonoko: "…"
Okay, yes, they'd definitely jumped to conclusions.
Thinking back now—even if Jangxia had just walked out of a room with a corpse in it… even if he didn't panic at all while stepping through puddles of blood… even if he had the dead-fish eyes of someone walking out of a boring lecture rather than a crime scene…
Maybe—just maybe—when he said "You believe me when I say it?" it wasn't villain foreshadowing. Maybe it meant something more like "You trust me that much? I'm so moved."
Their two kind-hearted little brains gradually filled with guilt.
Sonoko cleared her throat, strode back over, grabbed Jangxia's hand, shook it hard, and declared:
"Just kidding! Of course we believe you!"
…Wow, this hand feels kinda nice to hold.
Way different from what she expected.
It's not cool and clammy like she thought—it's actually warm. Maybe he could moonlight as a hand warmer in winter.
Just then, Conan returned from the exhibit hall.
He reminded Ran to call the police, then turned to Jangxia:
"We believe you didn't do it. But since you were the first one to discover the body, the police will naturally suspect you first. You should try to remember your movements today—ideally, find an alibi. Also, on your way here, did you notice anyone suspicious?"
Conan wasn't placing blind faith in Jangxia's moral character.
It was just—this murder was messy. Blood everywhere. A real art piece.
If Jangxia had been the killer, there was no way he'd still be that clean.
Besides, Conan had seen Jangxia fight before—bonking people on the head one by one like he was playing Whack-a-Mole.
But this scene? Someone had recreated a painting, nailed a guy to the wall like a gothic art installation… There was a whole ritualistic vibe to it.
Totally not Jangxia's style.
So, in Conan's eyes, the most likely scenario was that Jangxia just happened to walk into the hall, saw the mess, stepped in the blood by accident… and just… calmly walked back out.
As for why he didn't scream, panic, or call the police?
Well, personality differences.
Some people scream. Some people flee. Some people… Jangxia.
Conan honestly couldn't imagine Jangxia screaming and running away. If anything, the calm exit kind of tracked.
And besides, Jangxia was… y'know. Jangxia.
Some behaviors that looked shady on other people were basically default mode for him.
Still, Conan couldn't help but wonder: this guy takes ten sick days a month and skips half of school—does he actually go to the cardiology clinic like he claims?
Thinking back on what he'd observed… Jangxia's routine consisted of: racing, brawling, browsing exhibits…
Conan sighed. Probably not.
The exhibit hall wasn't far from the Metropolitan Police Department.
Four people stood by the entrance, haunted and theorizing—some of them ready to pick up ghosts—and it wasn't long before the police arrived.
Inside the blood-soaked gallery, the lights were switched on, flooding the room with white clarity.
Inspector Megure and the forensics team entered to investigate, while a few officers went to find witnesses and collect statements.
Officer Sato stepped out, scanning the group until her gaze landed on Jangxia's back.
Based on experience, the first person to "discover" the body was usually suspicious.
Compared to two pale-faced high school girls who could barely look at the body, and a grade-schooler who wasn't even up to her waist, Jangxia immediately shot to the top of the suspect list.
But then Jangxia turned around, and Sato blinked.
Wait, she'd just seen this guy in the office not too long ago.
Though she wasn't on forensics, she had enough experience with corpses to estimate time of death. Based on that… the victim had probably died while Jangxia was in her office, reporting a totally different case.
…So maybe—for once—the killer wasn't in the first wave of "witnesses."
That was new.
Unfortunately, the witnesses didn't have much to offer.
Luckily, the Hell Pavilion had surveillance facing the scene.
When the police replayed it, the entire murder process was caught—but not the killer's face. It was obscured by a knight's helmet.
As the footage ended, Jangxia pulled out his phone.
Not to rewatch the surveillance, but to show a different video—one he'd secretly recorded.
In it, Curator Ochiai could be seen crouching down, pretending to tie his shoe… but in reality, swapping a fancy pen with the one on the floor that the victim, Mr. Manaka, had used before dying.
The pen the curator planted was dry and couldn't write.
While the police were still pondering the mystery of the faceless knight, Jangxia skipped the reasoning theatrics and walked right up to the curator.
Ochiai stood there, hands behind his back, staring at the bloody oil painting on the wall—a knight slaying a demon.
In his mind, the late Mr. Manaka had betrayed him: agreeing to continue the exhibition, only to suddenly decide to demolish it. A knife in the back.
So Ochiai didn't regret killing him. In fact, the more he stared at the painting, the more he felt the knight looked just like him:
Dashing. Noble. Tragic. Willing to sacrifice everything to rid the world of evil.
He was mid-philosophical-sigh when a voice suddenly chimed in:
"The righteous knight defeats the demon… but in doing so, is also stained by evil's blood. Don't you think?"
The curator jumped and turned sharply, only to see Jangxia beside him.
Ochiai froze, his conscience twitching.
But after a second, he stroked his beard and convinced himself he was overthinking. No one could see through his plan that easily. Jangxia was probably just making idle conversation about the painting.
…Until Jangxia kept talking.
"You know, when someone sells land, they can include restrictions on future use in the contract—like requiring that the property remain an exhibition hall."
The curator stiffened.
"But those kinds of clauses make land harder to sell. And from the looks of things, your former boss didn't include any such limitations."
Jangxia continued, casually but with sharp precision: "An experienced businessman wouldn't overlook something that obvious. Which means…"
"You're already pretty old. You've worked in the industry for decades. As a curator, you must've signed all kinds of contracts. Think about it—shouldn't that have tipped you off?"
Conan, who'd been eavesdropping silently from the side: "…"
Even if I don't follow the details… isn't that way too yinbi to say to an old man?! Is he trying to make the guy keel over from shame?!
But never mind that.
The real question was: why did Jangxia suspect the curator?
And how the heck did he know so much about this exhibition hall?
Was it the lady at the ticket booth who told him?
Glossary:
yinbi – Sarcastic, snide, or subtly mocking tone.
bear child – A bratty or mischievous kid (used affectionately or mockingly).