Chapter 112: The Small Hotel Murder Incident (5)

The female police officer lowered her arm again, returned the pistol to her waist, and approached the fat otaku.

Leaning over, she whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Stop acting, I know you are pretending to be asleep."

Seeing no reaction from the fat otaku, the female police officer didn't dwell on the topic and continued, "I am very curious. Between you, the fat otaku, and the calm, cigarette-smoking Old Man, who exactly is..."

As she spoke, the female police officer's ears twitched. She sharply caught the faint sound of doors opening upstairs and in the back room of the front desk.

Upstairs, the Little Girl tiptoed to the staircase. From the back room behind the counter, the Old Man crouched down and sneaked his way to the front desk.

However, just as the two prepared to listen to what the female police officer was saying...

"You lied!"

The female police officer suddenly raised her voice, accompanied by a sound similar to a pistol misfiring.

The female police officer, the Little Girl, and the Old Man bolted simultaneously. The former rushed out of the hotel and vanished into the torrential rain, while the latter two lunged and grasped nothing but empty air.

The two saw the fat otaku scrambling to draw his gun, knocking over the cola beside him in his frantic rush.

The two of them: "..."

The female police officer had failed her Judgment, practically delivering her head on a silver platter. Yet this deadbeat fat otaku had messed up the simplest task of drawing his gun.

What a complete piece of trash!

The Little Girl rubbed her temples and asked in exasperation, "What did the female police officer just say to you?"

The fat otaku seemed to realize his recent performance had been truly embarrassing. An awkward expression appeared on his simple, honest face. "She suddenly shouted 'You lied,' which scared me so much I immediately opened my eyes. I feel like she knew you were eavesdropping and did it on purpose to draw you out."

Having obtained the information, the two no longer spared the fat otaku a single glance, both frowning deep in thought.

The Little Girl suddenly asked, "Don't you find it strange? When the female police officer entered The Small Hotel, she didn't have a gun on her. But judging from the sound we just heard, she has a gun now. Where did her gun come from?"

The Old Man lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said uncertainly, "She probably hid the gun somewhere before entering the hotel. There is no point in discussing this."

"This trap was set up specifically to determine whether the fat otaku was lying."

To avoid lying himself, he stopped right there.

After all, the recent events had taken place in the dark. Unable to be certain if their ears had deceived them, they did not dare speak their deductions out loud.

They could only reason in their minds.

'If the female police officer failed her Judgment, it proves that the fat otaku has not lied from the very beginning.'

'The fat otaku previously said, "I am not the killer," and that statement was true.'

'Since he is not the killer, the wet pajamas in his room were planted by someone to frame him.'

'Who framed him?'

'If it was the female police officer, then she would know perfectly well that the fat otaku was not lying, and would never have come downstairs to pass Judgment on him.'

'Therefore, the female police officer can be ruled out first as the one who framed the fat otaku.'

'That leaves only the woman!'

'The woman drove a light-colored car. She did not lie, yet she broke free from her handcuffs and fled. Her only goal was to hide in the dark, muddy the waters of The Small Hotel, and trick us into telling a lie.'

'The woman is the prime suspect.'

'But how can the wet hair on the fat otaku's head be explained?'

Thinking of this, the two turned their heads to look at the fat otaku, only to see him dripping with sweat.

Sweat dripped down along his hair.

'So that's it!'

'People who are broad and heavy tend to sweat easily while sleeping. What wet the fat otaku's hair was not rainwater, but his own sweat.'

At this point, the fat otaku's suspicion was completely cleared from both of their minds.

The Old Man fished out the handcuff key and casually tossed it to the fat otaku. A short while later, the three were sitting on the sofa, occasionally knitting their brows.

The Little Girl broke the silence first, questioning the Old Man, "The female police officer ran out through the front door of The Small Hotel, and based on your position just now, you should have been hiding at the front desk. For the policewoman to escape the hotel, she had to pass by the front desk. Logically speaking, you should have had the chance to shoot her."

The Old Man lit a cigarette and retorted, "Why did she suddenly raise her voice when she said 'You lied'?"

"If she kept her previous words at a low volume and suddenly raised her voice only when saying 'You lied,' wouldn't I have easily fallen into her trap if I rashly passed Judgment on her?"

"I have reason to suspect that the female police officer never attempted Judgment on him from the very beginning." The Old Man pointed at the fat otaku, who was currently drinking cola.

"There is also a problem with your statement. Just now you said, 'She suddenly shouted "You lied"'. In that response, her suddenly shouting does not mean the policewoman only said those words, nor does it prove that 'You lied' was her Judgment command."

"Simply put, suppose the policewoman actually said, 'Just now, I heard someone downstairs say: You lied.' She merely raised the volume for the last two words to mislead us into thinking she was speaking the command."

Hearing this, the Little Girl cast a cold gaze at the harmless-looking fat otaku.

She felt it was necessary to reevaluate this 'trash' of a fat otaku.

The Little Girl turned her head and asked, "Then how do we explain the sound similar to a pistol misfiring that we just heard?"

The Old Man pulled out his gun and rapped it against his own knee, producing a sound similar to a pistol misfiring.

"Logically speaking, the female police officer knows whether she framed the fat otaku. If she was the one who framed him, the fat otaku would die; if she wasn't, she wouldn't have come to the first floor at all."

"You."

The Old Man looked at the fat otaku. "You knew the policewoman realized this was a trap, and you also saw through her plan to beat us at our own game. So you played along with her act, deliberately telling us some ambiguous truths."

"Also..."

The Old Man took a deep drag of his cigarette. His gaze toward the fat otaku turned sharp and serious, as if he had encountered a formidable opponent.

"The person who framed you could be the female police officer, or it could be the woman who ran away."

"But, there is one more possibility..."

"You framed yourself!"

"If it really was you, then your foresight and logical reasoning are absolutely top-tier among the eight people in The Small Hotel."

Just imagine—being able to realize right from the start that Chen Ran would be shot and the police would deduce the killer's identity. To preemptively soak the pajamas, toss them in his own room to disguise himself as the killer, and also ensure he was the last one to leave the room.

More importantly, he couldn't lie.

What kind of meticulous control over details, logical reasoning, and judgment of everyone's character would it take to accomplish all of that?

The Old Man couldn't help but recall the fat otaku's greasy appearance while eating spicy strips earlier.

'It was probably back then, by using a method that disgusted others, that he accurately judged everyone's personality.'

'However, he underestimated the guests' level of caution. Even though he created a trap capable of making people lie, no one actually told the lie he wanted.'

The honest and simple expression on the fat otaku's face gradually faded.

He gave a bitter smile. "As expected, I really shouldn't have played along with the policewoman's act."

"Perhaps it was her unfinished question that riled up my emotions..."

The two were stunned. The Little Girl hurriedly asked, "What was her unfinished question?"

The fat otaku stroked his chin. "I think she wanted to ask... between me, the fat otaku, and the cigarette-smoking Old Man, who exactly is..."

"Chen Ran's main personality?!"