More and more people gathered around afterward.
Robert Broheim, who had risen early for morning training, squeezed into the crowd with a curious look on his face. The instant he saw the scene, his eyes widened. The Prairie Elf who had been so high-spirited yesterday was now lying limp in the corner, his entire body weak and slack.
The sight instinctively reminded him of what he had gone through in the past. But compared to the Prairie Elf's current condition, what Robert had experienced could only be considered a rather mild prank.
From his experience, although the Prairie Elf's limbs had not yet stiffened, his breathing was already faint. Death was not far off.
He did not rashly step forward and interfere with the upperclassman's examination, merely observing the victim's appearance by instinct.
"There are no visible wounds."
At least on the skin exposed outside his clothing, there were no obvious injuries other than abrasions.
There were no clear signs of a struggle at the scene either. "What about a dying message?"
Robert, who had once obsessively read detective novels for a time, immediately began to ponder.
But though his gaze darted rapidly about, he still found nothing, leaving him instinctively disappointed.
"Magic Guidance Summon!"
The upperclassman conducting the examination had already taken out a Magitech Card and begun emergency treatment.
Magicians might lack everything else, but they were exceptionally versatile.
Even though that upperclassman looked like he belonged in the Sports Club, he still took out a healing Magitech Card.
As raindrops like spring rain gradually fell, the Prairie Elf's nearly extinguished breath suddenly grew a little stronger.
"Yoni, what happened?"
The president of the Sports Club, Shrek Holmes, suddenly squeezed into the scene. But Shrek, who bore the surname Holmes, began ruining the crime scene almost as soon