Chapter 1
'Patta'
drops of liquid formed pearl chains and merged into a small stream, landed from the edge of the table, splashed high water, and landed on the face of the boy who was curled up next to him.
"Uh... um..."
Qingchi Lianyang was woken up by the continuous sound of water droplets and the cold splash on his face.
He struggled to open his eyes, but his dull blue-green pupils were as disintegrated as a dead person's.
The fuzzy white and black are scattered into abstract color blocks, covering the retina, and everything can only be seen as a general outline.
His head hurts...
He raised his hand and felt the source of the pain between the cold hair. The wound had stopped bleeding, so it should be just a scrape.
Qingchi Lianyang heaved a sigh of relief, he couldn't see clearly, probably because he was pushed to the ground before and hit his head against a hard object.
However, the impact may cause a slight concussion, and I need to find a place to do an examination when I recover. NSAIDs for minor concussions should be available at general pharmacies.
"Hmm..."
Qingchi Lianyang took a little effort and turned his head to the direction of the ticking sound. A square with edges and corners appeared in sight instead of the floor, and he judged that it was a wooden dining table.
He was originally lying on his side with his back to the dining table.
Qingchi Lianyang turned over and lay flat, successfully put his head under the dining table, but also moved himself from the edge of the pool of blood to the center, his upper body was completely soaked in the pool of blood.
Such cool blood.
At least one hour away from the human body.
Dragging the blessing lying flat, Aoki Lianyang could see the thing protruding from the table closer.
One was a semicircle next to the dining table, and the other was a long cylinder hanging down, only two fists away from his face.
arm?
The silhouette is kind of like that.
That semicircle is the human head.
No wonder there was so much blood, the rubber pad on the leg of the table next to his was terribly frayed. If someone dies on it, the blood will indeed be poured obediently along the height difference like in a blood tank.
The boy whose snow-white hair was soaked in blood thought calmly, he had basically recovered his ability to think.
The long black eyelashes fluttered a few times, and then opened again. Those blue and green pupils, which were the same color as the gallbladder of a poisonous snake, finally peeled off the obscuring haze and regained their clarity.
Qingchi Lianyang looked directly at the previous pair of bloodshot round eyes. The upper part of the adult male's head protruded from the table, the broken hair and the bloody wound on the forehead were stuck together, and the bridge of the nose was crooked to one side, very hideous.
You guessed it, it's a human head.
Qingchi Lianyang raised his hand, and he could touch the hanging hand without going too high. Judging from the hardness and temperature, he had been dead for about four or five hours.
Was someone grabbing her hair from behind and hitting the table, resulting in contusion and laceration of the brain, and death from brain stem injury?
Vendetta.
Qingchi Lianyang suddenly felt a little dull.
The living are indeed boring creatures.
Committing the crime of killing one's own kind because of an argument, 'on the spur of the moment', and -
too badly.
The more gaudy the killing technique, the more clues and flaws will be left behind.
Aoike Renyang is a novelist.
He wrote mysteries and horror novels, the latter more so.
In order to find inspiration, he confuses himself as a half-detective, chasing cases everywhere, only to find inspiration for novels among those grim corpses.
A corpse would be more affectionate to Aoike Lianyang than a living person.
Because they are quiet and eternal - even if the flesh / body rots, the voice and smile will be frozen forever.
Because of this, Qingchi Lianyang was also evaluated by the first adoptive father as a natural policeman, and wanted him to apply for the police academy, but was rejected by Qingchi Lianyang.
"People who are not afraid of corpses are more suitable to be murderers than policemen." "
...Then you should stop being a policeman, because the police can't afford to keep ghosts." The man who is a policeman said sincerely: "
But you You are so sensitive to corpses and investigations, it would be a waste of talent to be a lawyer or a doctor... If you have it, you can become a novelist, Qingchi." Mr. Police is clearly over half a year old, but his eyes are dark and bright, as if full of
vitality A young man, he is always so dazzling and humorous: "Be a rookie in the literary world, a rising star in society!"
So, Aoike Renyang became a novelist.
Now, for some reason, his soul has been transferred from a novelist to the teenager who was involved in the murder. Or, another self?
Qingchi Lianyang blinked, and finally remembered why he thought this corpse was boring just now. Because this face is clearly one of the novelist's adoptive fathers.
The reason why I say this is because Aoki Lianyang's childhood was a bit rough. Adoptive father is a bit much.
The long-dead Mr. Policeman is counted as one, this... let’s call him Mr. Writer. Because Qingchi Lianyang didn't remember his name.
He finally regained enough strength to sit up.
Aoike Lianyang moved himself to a place where he would not bump into the table when he sat up, or where he would not have a close contact with the writer Mr. whom he had not seen for a long time, and got up.
The white-haired boy held the back of his aching head and looked around, his blue and green pupils were chillingly calm.
He had a pair of long and narrow red phoenix eyes. His indifference to the living and the indifference and rationality in his bones made those already 'fierce' eyes sharper, just like the lower eyelids of a poisonous snake.
The room was not chaotic, and it could be seen that the murderer's goal was very clear, which was to kill people.
That's where it gets interesting.
An avenger who vented his anger by grabbing the opponent's hair and beating him to death was able to control the scope of revenge in the living room.
It looks like the work of a professional killer.
A hint of sarcasm flashed across Qingchi Lianyang's eyes. The boy finally gathered enough strength to stand up while supporting the legs of the table, and staggered a few steps.
Limbs are fine.
There are no major wounds on the body.
According to memory, Qingchi Lianyang found the mirror and stared at the young and immature face.
It's him.
It is the 'Qingchi Lianyang' in his youth.
Difference between parallel worlds? The Mr. Writer in his memory was not murdered.
Qingchi Lianyang looked back at the ferocious corpse on the table, his expression was indifferent, there was no nostalgia or hatred in his eyes, it was just as natural as plain boiled water.
Instead of wasting time, why not think about what to do next?
Loot your belongings and get out of here.
No, it's still...
'Bang'
From outside this room came the wailing sound of the door being violently broken open from the outside, and the poor door being slammed against the wall.
"Woo-woof!"
There was also the sound of police dogs barking.
Have the neighbors called the police? That's right, after all, Mr. Writer has been dead for so long, so the taste is not too small.
Qingchi Lianyang glanced at the table not far away, where there was a crumpled white mask and a crochet needle for cleaning Wenwan walnuts.
He walked over quickly.
After the police broke into the house, the first thing they saw was a thin young man standing at the coffee table not far from the corpse and looking at them coldly. On the white mask that covered most of his face, there was half a fresh bloody handprint. .
The hideous corpse and pool of blood are not far away.
The traces of blood being trampled on, the blood dripping from the boy's hair, skin, and clothes, the redness on the floor...
The strong visual impact of this picture made the young policeman hold his breath, and he raised his gun.
"Don't move."
Qingchi Lianyang raised his hand obediently, and the police rushed up to control him.
For the time being, no one noticed that there was a bloody needle lying quietly under the tea table.
"He is the murderer, and you can torture the rest yourself!"
A young man in a khaki detective suit hugged the telephone pole tightly, with an expression on his face that he would not leave.
"You are idiots, you are all idiots, you can't see such obvious things."
Several policemen didn't dare to touch him, and looked at the tall man on the other side as if asking for help.
"Mr. Fuze..." A middle-aged police officer wanted to cry, "We can't write in the closing report 'the passing detective boy can see who the murderer is at a glance', please help me.
" The silver-haired man in the traditional kimono was expressionless: "Ranpo."
Edogawa Ranpo protested loudly: "No!"
This extremely willful genius boy began to regret why he talked too much.
Who knew that the murderer was so stupid that when people called out his name, he knelt down in panic and begged for mercy. With this psychological quality, he would follow the example of passers-by and go back to the scene to watch the police solve the case!
Uncle Fukuzawa promised that his Luyuanji fruit tart buffy will be sold out!
"Ranpo..."
Edogawa Ranpo predicted what Fukuzawa Yukichi was going to say: "Even if it's a double serving of red bean rice cake, yokan, and rice cake adzuki bean soup, it's not okay for Luenkichi's fruit tabafay." Seasonal limited, if you miss it, you will have to wait for half a year!"
An outspoken young policeman beside him couldn't help but said: "Is a dessert more important than human life?"
This questioning tone stepped on the thunder of Edogawa Ranpo, and he held the telephone pole tightly with both hands, Look at the young policeman.
"First, the murderer has been captured. The details of the torture are your police's business. A detective has no obligation, let alone participate in it. Second, it's not an ordinary dessert. It's a decapitated meal that a detective promised to go to the dentist in exchange for. Three, after getting the answer to this simple killing case, anyone who catches a passerby can see what happened." The
young policeman blushed angrily: "You are insulting..."
"Hey!" Interrupting the young policeman's words, he stared straight at not far away, when a group of people were approaching: "Do you want to get rid of the suspicion?" Qingchi
Lianyang, who was surrounded by the police, gave him a cold look, Did not speak.
Edogawa Ranpo didn't get an answer, so he snorted dissatisfied and muttered something in a low voice.
This guy doesn't want to clear the suspicion at all... Fukuzawa Yukichi who was closest to him heard Ranpo say: " Weird
." The weird boy who could be adopted by him thought he was a weird guy. What was the origin of that bloody boy who seemed to come out of an American horror movie? The young policeman who had just questioned Edogawa Ranpo looked at the blood-soaked boy and asked his colleagues, "This is? " I heard from the intercom that you are also handling cases nearby, so I want to borrow your motorcycle." At least motorcycles are easier to clean than the interior seats of cars. The young policeman nodded, then looked at the young detective who had rested, with a flash of contempt in his eyes. "You said just now that anyone can see the process of a murder case?"
Edogawa responded arrogantly, and then seemed to forget the invisible confrontation just now with a deflated look.
"Yeah, like him."
He pointed to Qingchi Lianyang.
"Show him the dossier twice, and he will be able to tell the whole story of the murderer's crime!"
Qingchi Lianyang: ...
It was very uncomfortable for him to be looked at by a group of people, but he was pushed away. It's a life that requires a lot of talking.
If it weren't for...
the way he looked at Edogawa Ranpo became colder and colder.
Edogawa Ranpo didn't seem to see Aoike Renyang's eyes, or if he did, he didn't care.
"Tell him the case, don't say who the murderer is, he will be able to tell the characteristics of the murderer at once, and there is no need for those boring reasoning! If he can do it, you can go to torture yourself, name the detective and Fuze Uncle leaves."
After the young detective finished speaking, he lamented his intelligence in his heart, and then looked up to Aoike Lianyang confidently.
——If you don't cooperate, a detective will tell the police the purpose of your arrest.
Qingchi Lianyang: ...
This guy is indeed a trouble.