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"Mr. Gu," the leading officer nodded to the detective and then paused for a moment upon seeing the photographer next to him, following up with a greeting, "I didn\'t expect Mr. Yao to be here as well."

"You police have arrived late again," said the detective with a smile brimming in his voice, taking out the tablet he had obtained and passing it over.

The officer, with a resigned shake of his head, took the tablet and then looked inquiringly.

The detective\'s expression turned serious as he solemnly said, "Mr. Guo\'s evidence of crime, the truth about those matters from three years ago, it\'s all in here. I wasn\'t wrong in my conjectures back then. Besides—there\'s a wine cellar in the storage room, and beneath the wine cellar, there\'s a secret chamber; you can send someone down to take a look."

Upon hearing this, the officer\'s demeanor also became grave, and he nodded toward the detective.

"Right, did you bring tools?" the detective asked again.

"What kind of tools?" the officer said, turning back to look at the police cars behind him.

After receiving the manor\'s alarm last night, because of Gu Miao\'s obstruction, the police not only came to investigate the murderer of Mr. Guo this time but were also prepared to dig up the entire manor.

After all, the influence of Guo Corporation in the past two years was no longer sufficient to exert pressure on them, especially now that the principal was already dead.

Even though it had been three years since the incident, and even though the murderer was already dead, a crime that should be made public would not be buried.

"There\'s still one murderer that hasn\'t been found, but I see there\'s not much mystery left to this case," the detective sighed ambiguously after handing over the manor to the police.

...

Once the police took control of the manor, all the servants working in various places were gathered inside the villa, including several visitors who had entered uninvited.

In the vast manor, a dozen or so people were surrounded by a few police officers, and the presence of those in uniform exerted a strong sense of oppression.

There wasn\'t much time left until the game ended; the photographer, anxious about that final task, didn\'t waste any words after the police arrived and took them straight to the kitchen.

It must be said that his hidden identity as a detective made it much easier for him to earn the trust of the police.

Xu Shuo knew what the photographer wanted to find—probably planning to dismantle and inspect the drainpipe under the washbasin for any residual poison.

Because the washbasin was sealed, and for the sake of aesthetics, the basin was also integrated with the wall during the villa\'s renovation.

Unless it was smashed, it was impossible to dismantle without a professional.

Xu Shuo glanced at the countdown to the game\'s end and didn\'t bother with the actions of the police, continuing to sit on the sofa, drinking tea and playing with his phone.

The police originally thought that the culprit might be among these inexplicably lodged travelers, but while they watched closely, everyone appeared very relaxed and at ease, with no sign of urgency!

The players were indeed not anxious; after all, they were not from this world, and however many people died here, it would not concern them once the time was up.

The detective returned to Chef Zhang\'s room and searched around; after examining it, he let out a sigh similar to Xu Shuo\'s earlier one: So clean.

This cleanliness referred not only to how neat the room was cleaned but also to the cleanliness of having no information at all.

It seemed he was an old-school, honest chef—so clean that there was no sign of criminal activity, but after thinking about the chef\'s deft movement when smashing the wine jar on the housekeeper, the detective felt it was too fake.

...

Noises of dismantling the washbasin came from the kitchen, and among the players sitting on the sofa, Zhan Qian occasionally glanced at the young man, finding him truly composed.

The more she observed him before, the more she felt that the contours of his figure seemed familiar.

Zhan Qian was still unclear if he was the murderer, but her suspicion was indeed leaning toward him, despite her having said at the beginning of the game that it was highly unlikely for a player to be the murderer in a beginner\'s Scripted Murder Game.

But she also said, that was a probability...

At that time, Zhan Qian was misled by her own task, which directed her to investigate the manor\'s secrets, and she subconsciously pushed the plot toward the entanglements of love and hatred within the manor, simultaneously expecting the other few to help her investigate, so she came up with the "player is not the murderer" speculation.

Although now the whole plot had taken a bizarre turn toward imprisonment and savage killing, completely unrelated to love and hatred, the most critical question emerged—

Why did the murderer kill Mr. Guo?

Was it for Madame Guo, or for those deceased girls?

The game was nearly over, but there was still one last item in the entire Scripted Murder Game that hadn\'t been completed.

...

The murderer knew all this but didn\'t report it to the police or collect evidence; he simply murdered Mr. Guo.

The detective sat at Chef Zhang\'s desk, idly flipping through the cookbook for recipe improvements, trying to find a dish in it that could cause poisoning when consumed in combination. Suddenly, he remembered something.

He remembered Xu Shuo sitting on the sofa playing with his phone.

The detective got up, poked his head out from the doorway, and called out to the living room, "Chef Zhang, may I please see your phone?"

Xu Shuo, who was playing Candy Crush, heard the call and got up without wasting a second to pass his phone to him. The detective hastily took it, only to see the "level clear" screen of Candy Crush.