Seeing that Zhao Xun remained as unhurried as ever, Whistle felt relieved, but also a little puzzled.
Zhao Xun wasn't rushing him, giving him more time to gather information at ease, carefully verify its reliability, and compile his final findings. That was certainly a good thing.
But he couldn't quite figure out what Zhao Xun was thinking.
Even though Zhao Xun knew perfectly well that both his parents were dead, he still wanted to know what had killed them. He clearly seemed to care about them.
Yet every time they came up, he was so calm and composed that he seemed almost emotionless.
Even after learning the cause of his father's death today, he hadn't shown much emotional reaction.
There had been no regret, grief, resentment, or anything of the sort.
Whistle felt that he couldn't understand Zhao Xun at all.
He couldn't tell whether Zhao Xun cared about his parents or not.
While Whistle was silently trying to figure him out, Zhao Xun had also become interested in how Whistle gathered information.
Without surveillance equipment, eyewitnesses, or even access to the bodies, he could still establish an approximate time of death and determine where they had died. Conventional methods couldn't possibly accomplish that.
Only players who had participated in the same dream game should know the circumstances surrounding someone who died in it.
Even if other players had entered the same dream game as his adoptive parents, it was hard to say whether they were still alive aboard the Endless Train a year later.
Besides, Whistle had said that his adoptive father hadn't been killed by a player.
The chances of dreams merging without prior agreement were low. It was more likely that his adoptive parents had been the only two players in that dream game.
With both participants