Jia Xiu had watched Conan.
First, he would use a whole pile of clues to mislead everyone toward someone who looked utterly, unmistakably evil. Then Conan would go, "Huh?" and uncover the twist: the quiet, harmless one all along had been the real murderer.
Of course, Jia Xiu wasn't actually that certain.
He simply believed that whoever took the initiative to seek him out was more suspicious.
So when the Flame Demon sent someone to find him, his vigilance immediately maxed out.
Of course, he hadn't come himself.
If he had been told to come himself and actually came himself, that would have been far too obedient.
The Flame Demon looked with mild surprise at the corpse on the ground. It showed no signs of life, just like a genuine dead body.
The puncture wound looked so real, and even the scorched parts were flawless. Yet that faintly mocking voice continued to come from all around it.
"Let me guess, what are you doing this for? Testing for some greater sacrifice? The club you established was designed as nothing but expendable material for trading in exchange for power. Did you never expect that so many people would actually believe this spiel?"
The Flame Demon gathered flames once more. With a wave of its hand, surging fire engulfed the corpse on the ground.
In an instant, the body turned to char.
The details were still so abundant.
Some kind of advanced illusion.
The Flame Demon reached its conclusion.
But no matter how exquisite an illusion was, there would always be flaws.
It still found the problem. The grass had burned to the wrong degree. As a member of the Devil Race born with the ability to control fire, it understood everything related to flames.
Fire capable of burning a human body