Smack!
In the cabin, Zhang Zhiyuan slapped the crime-scene photos down on the table one by one. "The answer lies in the way the bodies are arranged."
"Quit keeping us in suspense, buddy. Just tell us," the American said impatiently.
"It's a clock."
"A... clock?"
"That's right. The victims' hands and feet were positioned at corresponding angles, matching the three hands of a clock. Some of the angles were difficult to bend into place, or required overlapping limbs, so bones were broken, leaving the bodies twisted and grotesque!" Zhang Zhiyuan explained. "This isn't some bizarre fixation of the killer's. These people are deliberately announcing their crimes in advance!"
"Now that you mention it, I can kind of see it." Anthony Chekhov studied the photos for a moment. "So they're clues to the time?"
"No. All the crimes took place at night. That's the only time public places are nearly deserted." He shook his head. "The hands point to numbers; the numbers are what make up the answer."
"Wait, wait... We need to settle one thing first." Zhou Zhi cut in. "Does this game use the twenty-four-hour clock too? If they use a different time system, then none of these deductions hold up."
"Are you stupid, kid? This is a game made by Earthlings. What other time system would it use?" Joe Jam rolled his eyes at him.
"But..."
"The clocks here have twelve hours on the face, too," Taylor suddenly said.
"How do you know?"
"I saw someone take out a pocket watch when I was out earlier." He raised a finger as if to push up his glasses, but this body didn't have any. "I was pretty far away, so I couldn't see it clearly, but one of the hands was pointing right at six o'clock, which matched the dusk outside."
"How far away?" the Russian asked curiously.
"About thirty-five feet. The person was ahead of me on the right."
"Ha!" Anthony clapped his hands. "You'd make a great hunter."
Taylor smiled faintly. "I don't enjoy killing for pleasure. People should live in harmony with nature."
The smile vanished from Anthony's face.
Thirty-five feet? Zhang Zhiyuan was slightly taken aback. That was over ten meters! How could this man pick out such a detail from that far away? They hadn't even been watching closely. Pushing down his surprise, he cleared his throat. "Mr. Taylor has a sharp eye. In fact, when I asked where Yenie Holy Hall was, I also asked about the time—though I asked what time it was then."
"So you already knew what numbers the bodies indicated?" Asahara Naruko asked, puzzled. "Then why do we still need to visit the crime scenes ourselves?"
"Because we need to confirm the point of origin—or starting point." Zhang Zhiyuan pointed to the photo of the side hall at the holy hall. "The photos alone don't tell us which way the bodies are facing. If we don't go to the scene, we can't tell which limb is the hour hand and which is the minute hand. Now I know: the victim's head is the origin, and it always points north. The first thick limb to the left, whether an arm or a leg, represents the hour hand!"
"I see! How enlightening." After studying the photos for a while, Naruko suddenly understood. "This journey has certainly been a valuable learning experience."
"Using this photo as an example, the hour hand is at three and the minute hand at thirty-five, making 335." Zhang Zhiyuan picked up a case file and held it up for everyone to see. "The next crime after the one at Yenie Holy Hall took place at a café on Maple North Street, and its address is 335!"
That was the answer to the advance warning.
"But, Mr. Zhang, there's one thing your theory leaves out," Taylor said thoughtfully. "What about the second hand? If the thick limbs you count clockwise are the hour and minute hands, and the thinnest one is the second hand, then it should have a reading too. For example, in this photo, the second hand is pointing to around forty seconds."
"The second hand does have a reading, but it has nothing to do with the address," Zhang Zhiyuan replied. "That's what I was about to explain. You only need to look at its position. Forty seconds is around the eight on a clock face, and the café case happened exactly eight days after the holy hall case! As for why they do it this way, the address alone isn't enough to determine when they'll strike!"
"Whew—" Anthony whistled. "These guys sure are brazen. You'd think they wanted the police to find them!"
There was no doubt about it: this was an outright challenge to public safety.
"Buddy, how did you figure out the clock from the photos?" Taylor seemed curious. "Most people would either be too scared to look closely at such bloody scenes, or get so caught up in the details they couldn't look away. But you managed to see the whole picture. You've got a knack for this."
"I used to..." Zhang Zhiyuan almost blurted out that he had handled similar cases before, but stopped himself halfway. "I've read a lot of detective and mystery stories, and downloaded quite a few case files from the internet. It's a personal interest, I guess. When a killer wants to convey a message, they usually use numbers as the medium. And there are only so many things numbers can be linked to... codes, clocks, patterns. The most outrageous case I've seen had a solution hidden in a geometric diagram..."
"Enough, none of that matters," Zhou Zhi interrupted impatiently. "Just tell us where the latest crime is going to happen!"
"958, and there are two days left."
"Two days?" Joe Jam shouted. "We have to stay here for two days to clear the game? No way. I've got other plans tomorrow!"
"That's what I want to ask, too." Zhang Zhiyuan raised his voice. "Host, are you listening? Surely you can answer this kind of question?"
"Of course. I've been keeping an eye on all of you." A figure slowly appeared in the air. It was Chaoyang, Paradise's guide. "Please don't worry. This is just a game. I can adjust its speed at any time."
"Its speed... What do you mean?"
"When you're going about your normal activities, time feels the same as it does in reality, like it does now." Chaoyang paused. "But once you fall asleep, I can instantly take you two days ahead, just like—"
He snapped his fingers.
"—this."
Zhang Zhiyuan blinked. For a moment, everything had gone black, but only for an instant. Before he could even react, his senses had returned to normal.
"Host, does that mean it's already..."
"That's right. Two days later," Chaoyang replied. "The exact time is... 9:25 p.m. Outside the game, it's still the same second as before the time jump."
"Don't just skip ahead without warning me! I still had a lot of preparations to make!" Zhang Zhiyuan stamped his foot. "Forget it. Next time you jump ahead, give us a heads-up. Since it's already night, we should..."
"Ah! Why is one of my fingers missing?" the American suddenly cried out.
Everyone turned to look. He was holding up a hand missing its middle finger, howling in pain.
"This is... a minor glitch. Sorry, I'll fix it right away." Chaoyang clapped again, and Joe Jam's finger was restored.
"What happened!?" he asked breathlessly.
"Just a program bug. We'll fix it as soon as possible," Chaoyang explained.
"Time's running short. We need to get moving!" Zhang Zhiyuan urged them. "We've skipped ahead too far. We still don't know which building is number 958..."
"Sinclair Grand Theatre, on Golden Street in the north district," Chaoyang interrupted.
"..." Everyone was stunned. It was the first time the Host had given them a clue so directly.
"Consider it compensation for the bug." Chaoyang's figure gradually faded. "Just so you know, it's already 10:11."
"That took an hour!?" Zhang Zhiyuan's expression changed. "The killers may already be there. We have to move now!"
"I've been itching to get going. The grand theatre, huh? Let's go!" Joe Jam dashed out of the cabin first.
Watching the group disappear into the night, Chaoyang let out a quiet sigh... There was no denying that having an expert handle this sort of thing was convenient, but he had still made a huge oversight: the continuity of time. Creating these bodies cost Wish Force by the hour. To avoid losing money, he couldn't keep these mindless bodies going for two whole days. The most economical approach was to erase them first, then create a new batch when the time came. But it wasn't like molding clay. The bodies created before and after were fundamentally unrelated. He had done his best to make the two batches look the same, but the result was only passable—and he'd even forgotten a finger.
That meant he'd spent twice as much just creating the bodies, and this time there was one more person than last time.
Chaoyang shook his head and followed after them. At this point, he could only hope the Wish Force he got in return would be as generous as possible...
Before you continue