After a pause, Tatsumi Seimaru asked uneasily, "Neither the victim nor the murderer usually wore hats, right?"
Hashimoto Maya asked curiously, "What kind of hat?"
Could there be hidden circumstances in this case that had yet to be discovered? Impossible. With Jiang Xia here, every last secret should already have been dug up.
Yet Tatsumi Seimaru refused to say more.
Tatsumi Seimaru: "..." Starting from the restroom, he had looked through the reflection in the door crack and vaguely sensed that his rare kindred spirit had been wearing a wide-brimmed Top Hat.
If neither the victim nor the murderer had that trait, then it seemed his friend, whom he had never met, really was still alive.
But if that person had been fine at the time, why hadn't he waited for him?
Tatsumi Seimaru felt a subtle irritation at having been stood up.
The speaker had meant nothing by it, but the listener took it to heart.
Nearby, Curacao had been quietly walking beside Mrs. Tatsumi, like a shadow with little presence. But now, the tips of that shadow's ears twitched.
Curacao: "..." She knew some people who wore hats. She had seen them on the Roller Coaster not long ago. Two of them, in fact.
...Though she had no idea what was going on, she somehow felt that Vodka and Gin were about to have a bad time.
Uzo really was a harbinger of disaster.
Still, as long as it did not fall on her, watching other colleagues suffer... was actually pretty entertaining.
Curacao had originally had no expectations for this amusement park trip and had even found it somewhat distasteful. But now, like any other person who had come here to have fun, she could not help feeling a faint, barely suppressed... excitement.
Curacao: "..."
...It was wrong