There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

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After the darkest time before dawn had passed, a hint of pale white began to emerge on the horizon.

Last night, nothing thrilling had happened, only imperceptible undercurrents flowed faintly.

Quite a few people had not slept all night. Tan Xiaohe was halfway through checking the housekeeper's room when she was called to stop, and upon returning, she promptly fell asleep, frustrated.

Yang Ming, sitting on the floor, was looking through the copied documents. He had been reading them all night, and the whole person was a bit spiritually absent.

His brain was just too heavy. Propping his head up, he was drowsy and struggling with an encrypted document, determined not to give up despite having decoded it for the better part of the night because he had a hunch that there was something important inside!

When Tan Xiaohe woke up, the first thing she saw was the geek sitting against the wall, staring solemnly at the tablet but in fact, spaced out.

"Hey!"

She called out, and Yang Ming instantly snapped back to reality, as if waking from a deep dream, with a bewildered look on his face, "Huh?"

Tan Xiaohe pulled a face, speechlessly saying, "Weren't you reviewing the documents? Did you find anything?"

Hearing this, Yang Ming fully regained his composure, rubbed his sore eyes, and looking at the tablet screen still being decoded, said, "There is some data that is very well hidden, I'm still decoding it, but I should be close."

"Aren't you a geek? How come you look like you can't pull an all-nighter?" Tan Xiaohe got up and stretched, looking quite refreshed as she spoke.

"I never pull all-nighters," Yang Ming yawned.

Who said all geeks are night owls? Homebodies just don't like going out, that's all.

Moreover, staying up late and pulling an all-nighter are two different things!

"I'm going out then, you keep decoding," Tan Xiaohe tidied up the props from last night's Scripted Murder Game that they hadn't managed to organize and then headed for the door.

"Go on, and cover for me while you're at it," Yang Ming said, massaging his temples.

...

Dawn had broken, and after a night of rain, the air outside had become especially fresh.

The villa's main door was wide open. The morning sun and a gentle breeze blew in, making the atmosphere much more comfortable.

The servants in the manor had also risen early. They were all silently going about their work, their light movements matching those of the people who had wandered around in the middle of the night, carrying a sense of oppression.

After Tan Xiaohe washed up and came downstairs, she saw two people eating breakfast in the dining room.

The breakfast was prepared by Xu Shuo, using whatever ingredients were available. Beside him eating was Zhan Qian, who had been too scared to sleep after being frightened by "ghosts", and came down early seeking food.

"Good morning~" Tan Xiaohe lifted a sweet smile onto her face and greeted the two.

Zhan Qian looked up at her, nodded gracefully, and continued to eat her breakfast with small bites.

Tan Xiaohe took a seat next to them, sizing up the person beside her with careful eyes, and suddenly expressed her concern, "Sister Zhan, you seem a bit under the weather. Did you not sleep well last night?"

Zhan Qian's movements paused: "..."

She suspected this woman brought it up on purpose—the implications were all too clear.

The owner of the body she was in had a good foundation; even after staying up all night, there were no dark circles under her eyes. Furthermore, she had put on makeup before going out, so she couldn't possibly look that bad!

The chef had just commented that she looked quite well-rested!

Full of silent complaints, Zhan Qian maintained her cool exterior, and spoke indifferently, "Thank you for your concern, but I rested quite well."

Hearing this, Tan Xiaohe sighed in relief and cheerfully said, "That's good. The weather seems nice today. After the police arrive, we should be able to uncover quite a few clues. Sister Zhan, maybe then you can lead us straight to beating the game!"

```

Zhan Qian was sure this girl was a little green tea, so she put down her fork and lifted an elegant smile, "Maybe, but sometimes even if you find the murderer, it doesn't necessarily end there. Many people play the Scripted Murder Game not just for the sake of deduction to find the murderer, but to restore the whole story of the script, and that's actually the essence of the game."

Therefore, the system that brought them into this game world can end the Scripted Murder Game in any unpredictable way.

Tan Xiaohe's eyes flickered slightly, "Why didn't Zhan mention this yesterday?"

Zhan Qian laughed, "After all, you're all newbies who have never played the Scripted Murder Game. Explaining too much might not make sense to you. For example, there's a type of game called Mutant Script..."

"..."

Sitting beside them, Xu Shuo saw the two women start to slyly probe each other for information and promptly slipped away after finishing his meal.

As the estate's resident chef, he still needed to prepare breakfast for the main house.

Mr. Guo used to come down for his meal promptly at eight o'clock every morning, and although he was now gone, there was still an autistic young master to feed.

When Xu Shuo arrived in the kitchen early in the morning, he found that someone had been there the night before.

But in reality, unless they opened up the sewer pipe, they wouldn't find anything at all.

The simplest methods of murder are the least likely to be found out—just like the flashy and flawed techniques used by the Grim Reaper Elementary School students.

Of course, committing a murder under one's own identity is quite stupid; it's like forcibly pinning oneself as the prime suspect.

If there were no tutorial for newbies, he'd prefer sneaking into Mr. Guo's room in the middle of the night and finishing him off with one strike, at least that way he could survive a bit longer.

Not to mention, so he wouldn't be immediately targeted by that photographer.

...

Then, as Xu Shuo was ready with the main house's breakfast and pushing the cart towards the elevator, he bumped into the photographer he had just been criticizing in his mind.

"Good morning, is this breakfast for the butler and Mr. Guo?" the photographer greeted him warmly.

"Just for Mr. Guo. Yours is already prepared at the dining table," Xu Shuo replied, nodding normally as he turned his head to indicate the dining room.

"Alright, thanks."

"You're welcome."

After exchanging pleasantries, they passed by each other. The photographer suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at the young man, just as the elevator doors were closing.

The doors soon blocked his view, and the photographer's smile faded. Rubbing his temples, he walked to the dining room, and only when he saw the two girls there did he bring back his warm and polite smile.

He sat down and observed the two women, noticing Zhan Qian's slightly flagging spirits—he didn't need to guess to know she had also stayed up late. The other girl, however, seemed to have slept well.

In fact, he had also stayed up late, inspecting the kitchen, and had even tried to check the chef's room.

The door was locked, and as he expected, nobody was inside.

The photographer noted down the people who had gone out last night, none of the task performers from outside had stayed quietly in their rooms.

Still, he felt the chef was the most suspicious!

In the process of deduction, if you first lock onto a target and then reverse reason from there, it makes things a lot easier.

The photographer's target was now the chef, so all his search directions started from the standpoint of "the chef is the murderer." The only thing he lacked now was information.

Hopefully, the police arriving later could provide some useful help—he didn't wish to fail the task.

After all, he had a main task, which was [to find out who killed Mr. Guo].