Chapter 15: I’m Staying Here

In the spacious dining room, candlelight flickered.

Beside the bloodstained tablecloth, a headless corpse was praying with its hands folded on its chest.

Silent men and women stood around it.

The scene was both bloody and bizarre, like a wicked ritual to please a demon.

Jesse Holmes was the last to arrive, after Donahue Bobby.

Unexpectedly, this gentleman, who appeared timid and cowardly, had a very calm reaction after entering the dining room and stumbling upon the “crime scene.”

He even greeted everyone.

When something is this abnormal, there must be a sinister reason.

Rosie couldn’t help but steal another glance at Jesse.

The man’s gaze was peaceful, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a faint smile.

‘Is there something wrong with this person?’

As she was pondering, a voice suddenly cut in beside her, “What are you doing?”

Rosie turned her head and saw that Hermann had, at some point, walked up to “Hannah.”

His hand, reaching for the “corpse,” was caught in mid-air.

Dennis Sandek’s face was cold, his gaze towards the man unfriendly.

Hermann glanced at the hand gripping his arm but didn’t get angry.

He tilted his head towards “Hannah” and spoke, “What am I doing?”

“Looking for any clues left on the body, of course.”

“If Mr. Sandek minds, you’re welcome to check it yourself.”

Dennis fell silent for a moment before finally letting go.

Compared to this middle-aged man’s inner turmoil, Hermann was more concerned about the Baron’s daughter’s physical condition.

He flexed his fingers, tucked his thumb in, and extended his other four fingers to touch the corpse’s neck.

Fortunately, no horrifying scene of the corpse suddenly grabbing his wrist occurred.

Hermann furrowed his brow, then successively felt the arms, wrists, finger joints, and other areas.

Finally, he even knelt down, ignoring the pool of filth on the floor that had leaked out due to the relaxation of the sphincter muscles, and reached out to twist the corpse’s lower limb joints a couple of times.

Donahue Bobby fought back the urge to vomit and looked at the man who was now standing up straight, asking, “Mr. Rhys, what are you doing…”

Hermann took a dark blue handkerchief from his pocket and explained as he wiped his hands, “Rigor mortis has set in across all the upper limb joints.”

“It hasn’t reached the lower limbs yet.”

“The time of death should be within three hours.”

“Aren’t you a reporter, Mr. Rhys? How do you know all this?” Dewitt Nair asked.

Hermann paused his wiping, turned his head, and smiled at the middle-aged gentleman.

“A reporter? I’ve followed a few bloody cases, more or less.”

“You pick up a thing or two after a while.”

Rosie pursed her lips and suddenly asked, “Mr. Rhys, if I may ask, is Hannah holding this posture because she was doing something like praying before she died?”

Hermann shook his head.

“Just like animals, a person’s entire body goes into a state of relaxation soon after death.”

“The masseter muscles relax and the jaw drops; even the smooth muscles of the pupils are no exception.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the foul-smelling filth on the floor.

“She couldn’t even maintain her most basic reflexes, so how could she keep her back so straight and hold such a formal posture?”

“You mean…”

A rough guess formed in Rosie’s mind.

“After killing Miss Carter, the murderer didn’t leave immediately.”

“Instead, he held the body in position with his hands until rigor mortis set in before leaving.”

“Judging by the state of the rigor mortis, he hasn’t been gone for long.”

“He might have still been in this room half an hour ago.”

A chill crept up their spines, followed by a wave of nauseating horror.

What kind of psycho would commit such a cruel act and then spend several hours with the corpse in such a foul environment before leaving?

Does such a person, that so-called murderer, really exist?

Dewitt Nair uncontrollably recalled that sentence.

One salvation, one name.

“The, the parchment scroll.”

The middle-aged gentleman’s lips trembled as he mumbled.

In an instant, a heavy shadow fell over the dining room.

The prophecy had come true.

The one who resisted was now a headless corpse.

Any further words seemed pale and feeble now.

Suddenly, someone broke the silence.

“Everyone, on my way here, I found a staircase leading to the upper floor.”

The one who spoke was Jesse Holmes.

“A staircase?”

Swish.

Jesse snapped his head to one side with the speed of a spring, turning towards Dewitt Nair, who had spoken.

His smile stretched wider and wider, but his tone was calm.

“Yes, a staircase.”

“Keep walking towards where I’m staying, and there’s a staircase there.”

Dewitt knew where Jesse was staying; their group had passed that way yesterday and had not seen any so-called staircase.

However, looking at the clearly abnormal Jesse Holmes right now, he couldn’t bring himself to say a single word of rebuttal.

‘Truth above all, I just want to leave this room right now, dmn it, dmn it!’

Dewitt forced a smile and proposed, “In that case, why don’t we go together to check the staircase Mr. Holmes mentioned? After we’re done, we can…”

“Decide on the name for today’s parchment scroll.”

Suspicion and defensiveness descended once more.

“Apologies.”

Hermann shook out his handkerchief, then glanced sidelong at the crowd.

“I plan to act alone.”

“Mr. Rhys…” Donahue began to say something upon hearing this.

He had just called out the name when the other man interrupted him.

“Last night, we were all alone in our respective rooms.”

“In other words, any one of us could have returned to the dining room without the others knowing and killed Miss Carter.”

Bev Hardy had just suffered a huge shock and was mentally unstable.

Hearing this, she immediately raised her hand and pointed, her high-pitched voice vibrating in everyone’s eardrums, “You suspect the murderer is one of us?!”

Hermann shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to argue with her.

“In any case, I’ll be back for the vote.”

“See you later.”

With that, he turned and left the room without a backward glance.

Dennis Sandek glanced over at “Hannah’s” position, then withdrew his gaze and left the group with a single sentence.

“See you in a bit.”

Then, he also left the room alone.

Because of what Hermann had just said, Dewitt was also conflicted.

He glanced at the still-grinning Jesse Holmes, shivered inwardly, and grabbed his mistress’s hand.

He made a seemingly normal suggestion, “What Mr. Rhys said makes some sense.”

“Why don’t we split into two groups? If there really is a traitor among us, at least we won’t be wiped out all at once.”

“Besides, if one group comes back with fewer people, then something is definitely wrong.”

This suggestion was purely detrimental.

The more they split up, the easier it would be for them to be picked off one by one.

Evidently, faced with all this strangeness, the middle-aged gentleman had lost his ability to judge the situation.

Compared to the rational “optimal solution,” he was leaning more towards the emotional “safest option.”

“I want to stay here.”

Jesse Holmes suddenly spoke up.

Then, under the gazes of the other four, he walked over to the headless corpse.

His feet stepped in blood and filth, but he didn’t mind at all and sat right down.

Then, his mouth stretched into a grin as he smiled at the group.

“I want to stay here.”

“I want to stay here.”

“I want to stay…”

He had gone mad.