Nearby, Vermouth was pondering something else.
"Two people actually died. Strictly speaking, doesn't that mean none of us guessed correctly?
"No, this isn't the participants' fault. The key is the options—Vodka never gave us the ability to choose two people at once.
"He damaged the participants' morale and confidence. Shouldn't he compensate each of us with a few Uzo Coins?"
While the detectives and police examined the bodies, Vermouth stood in an inconspicuous corner, planning to open the Passerby Mutual Aid Association and launch an attack on Vodka.
However, she had barely taken out her phone when a wary gaze fell on her.
Vermouth: "..."
She had never taken this female FBI agent who was always hovering nearby seriously before, but today she realized that this woman could be truly irritating at times...
"Dr. Araide" clicked her tongue inwardly, yet she could only pretend she had taken out her phone to check the time, then silently slipped it back into her pocket.
Just then, perhaps noticing how idle she was, someone spoke from nearby. "The local police say the roads still aren't open, so they won't be here until later—Dr. Araide, could you examine the bodies first?"
Vermouth looked over and saw Officer Sato, who had made the request... as well as the High School Detective behind Sato Miwako.
"..."
"Dr. Araide" gave Officer Sato a look usually reserved for a large puppet, then put on the gentle smile expected of a warm-hearted man. "Of course."
A fake doctor was forced to moonlight as a forensic pathologist.
Not far away, Curacao watched her busily at work and felt a faint measure of consolation: only with a doctor for comparison did she realize that her own side job as a lawyer was fairly decent—at least she would not be forcibly dragged