At the edge of the steep cliff, even the slightest movement of one's foot felt like taking a stroll among the clouds.
Frei's footsteps seemed to challenge the boundary between life and death as he stood at the edge of the precipice.
Looking down, the rugged rock face resembled the carved body of a giant. Only a few sparse plants, like scars, clung to it, while the bottom of the valley appeared and disappeared among the clouds and mist, occupied by a surging torrent.
If someone accidentally fell, they would inevitably be smashed into a pulp.
Even with a death-defying spell, they would quickly die from their severe injuries and inability to move.
And so.
The Detective gazed at the cliff, seemingly observing something in silence, yet also seeming to have no idea what to do next.
Because everyone standing behind him knew that there was nothing worth observing on this cliff at all!
Everything pointed to the cruelty awaiting the challengers.
Although the Detective had previously gathered the professions each challenger had written on paper through what was practically a private-chat method in the library, within everyone's view,
it seemed that there was still no information from which he could draw any conclusions.
The traitors had disguised themselves flawlessly.
If there was no further progress, they could only wait until the traitors began acting for the sake of their mission objectives tonight. Only after the first bloody confrontation began would they possibly be able to seize a crucial clue and continue advancing the investigation.
In such a passive situation, if the Detective was killed on the very first night, all would be practically lost.
And even if the Detective did not die, there was still an extremely high chance that someone would meet a gruesome end tonight.
Fear spread