Chapter 1 The Beginning

For the next hour, Feng Bujue returned to his guest room, continuing to wait for the "case" that might happen at any time.

This script was the most relaxed Nightmare script he had ever played. Although his character's abilities were severely limited, he hadn't encountered any obvious death flags since the initial car explosion. Moreover, the NPCs were all quite friendly and treated him with courtesy.

He figured as long as Brother Jue himself didn't act recklessly, like exposing his true nature... nothing should threaten his safety.

"So... the difficulty is concentrated on this thirty-three chapter setting..." Feng Bujue lay on the soft, comfortable bed, his hands behind his head, and lazily muttered, "Hmm... generally speaking... whether it's a mystery novel or a detective movie, the setup and the crime itself don't take up more than a quarter of the story. So... something will happen before Chapter Eight, no matter what..."

Just as he was muttering some meaningless nonsense, faint footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway outside the door.

Feng Bujue immediately sat up alertly, listening intently.

Brother Jue had conducted a non-systematic, but very practical, study of footsteps. Differences in height, gender, occupation, attire, habits, and even personality could be reflected in the sound a person made while walking.

At this moment, he knew at once that the person coming was the short gardener, Barton.

Knock knock—

Barton gently rapped on Feng Bujue's door.

"Who is it?" In fact, Feng Bujue was already standing behind the door, and he knew who it was, but he still had to pretend to ask.

"Uh... I'm the gardener, my name is Barton," Barton replied from outside the door. "We met once outside, do you remember?"

Feng Bujue opened the door and greeted the other man with a calm expression. "Of course, hello, Mr. Barton. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Barton exaggeratedly looked left and right along the corridor. Then, he lowered his voice and asked, "Mr. Feng... are you really a detective?"

"Yes," Feng Bujue replied in a very ordinary tone, exuding a convincing confidence. As he spoke, he stepped aside and said, "I believe you have something to say to me. Please come in."

"Uh..." Barton hesitated for a second, then turned his head again, carefully making sure that no one was watching, before stepping inside. "Sorry to bother you."

Feng Bujue casually closed the door, bolted it shut, and then naturally turned around and moved a chair for the other man. "Please sit down and talk, Mr. Barton."

"Thank you." Barton took the chair, but didn't sit down immediately. He was waiting for the host to sit first.

Feng Bujue naturally took in all these details. Without saying anything, he moved another chair and sat down directly.

Seeing this, Barton followed suit and sat down as well.

Through a few simple conversations and actions, Feng Bujue had successfully created the illusion that "this detective is very easygoing."

"There's something very important that I feel I need to tell you." As soon as Barton spoke, his expression became very nervous. "But before I tell you this, there are some things about myself that I want to confess to you."

"I'm all ears," Feng Bujue said.

Barton nodded, as if he had made a great decision. "I... used to be a burglar who picked locks."

"Used to be?" Feng Bujue interjected.

"Uh... yes, of course I'm not anymore," Barton explained. "Actually, when I was young, I had a bright future... Ah... never mind. Anyway, at the age of thirty, I spent two years in Pandanville Prison, and it was terrible. Even in winter, the prisoners only had a coarse linen work uniform, the food was grey broad beans cooked into a greasy paste, and there was endless work to do every day. One night, I was cold and hungry, and I was drenched in the rain. I thought I was going to freeze to death..."

"The point, Mr. Barton," Feng Bujue said. "Please get to the point."

"Heh... sorry," Barton said. "Anyway, that experience had a big impact on me, and I've reformed ever since."

"Then... what does this have to do with the very important thing you're about to tell me?" Feng Bujue asked.

"I just hope you can fully trust me," Barton replied.

"Hmm..." Feng Bujue pondered. "That's strange... how would describing your criminal past help gain my trust?" Without waiting for the other man to respond, he continued, "I presume the 'very important' thing you're about to tell me will be very unfavorable to someone in this house?"

"How did you kno..." Barton started to say.

Feng Bujue interrupted him. "It's obvious... A says something bad about B. If B wants to refute it, the best way is to attack A in return, reducing the credibility of his words. 'Do you really believe what that thief is saying?' Something like that..." He scratched his head. "You're well aware that others will use your disreputable past to make a point. So, you simply told me about it yourself first."

"Oh! Sir, you're amazing! You really are a great detective," Barton said with wide eyes.

"Hmph... overpraise..." Feng Bujue replied with a "modest" expression that showed he was enjoying himself immensely.

A few seconds later, he added, "Please feel free to tell me what's going on, Mr. Barton. I have no prejudice against you. I will judge the truth for myself."

Barton nodded, swallowed, and began, "What I want to tell you is..." He lowered his voice and said solemnly, "Young Master Dennis may be planning to murder Mrs. Odette..."

"Based on..." Feng Bujue understood at once that the gardener must have seen or heard something.

"Before, when Young Master Dennis and Master Colston were arguing in the room, I overheard a few words..." Barton said.

"Let me guess..." Feng Bujue raised both hands, extending two fingers on each, making quotation marks. "You 'just happened' to be pruning the branches of a tree outside that room, right?"

Barton blinked awkwardly. "Uh... yes."

"Okay... please continue, what did they say?" Feng Bujue shrugged, gesturing for the other man to continue.

Barton continued, "I only heard a few words... Young Master Dennis seemed to be trying to persuade the Master to remove Mrs. Odette's name from the will."

"The Master refused?" Feng Bujue asked.

Barton nodded. "Yes, and he was furious, and even scolded the Young Master." His expression darkened. "Just then, Young Master Dennis actually said..."