"Brother Gin had placed his bet, and Chianti and Korn had too. Huh? Why did Vermouth choose the Groom? That woman couldn't have picked at random, could she? She'd never acted this quickly before."
Vodka browsed through the backend records. "Wait, there's another vote for the Master of Ceremonies..."
He glanced at the name. "Curacao is spying on the screen again. Her schedule shouldn't be any easier than Brother Gin's, yet she still has time to open the program and earn Uzo Coins. Looks like she really is paying close attention to Uzo."
Although the votes were scattered all over the place, everyone else in the Passerby Mutual Aid Association had finished voting. Now, only his vote remained.
Having learned from the previous few times, Vodka knew that the betting window couldn't stay open for too long—otherwise, someone might die before all the votes were in, and wouldn't that make this whole wager a joke?
So this time, he had set a two-minute countdown. And now, the deadline for placing bets was fast approaching.
Vodka thought for a moment and suddenly realized something. "Come to think of it, didn't that little schemer go out just now?"
"Besides him, the Groom's Younger Brother also left the venue to get red wine. Could the next part of the story be the Groom's Younger Brother dying tragically in the warehouse, with Conan accidentally discovering the body?"
There was too little information. Seeing that even Brother Gin had already voted, Vodka pondered for a while before finally placing his precious vote on the Groom's Younger Brother.
Vodka: "..." No other reason—just the fact that he might run into Uzo's little lackey on the way meant the odds of something happening to him were massively higher!
In a sense, Vodka had guessed right.
At