Chapter 45: The 1924 Train Murder Case (18)

All the NPCs and non-NPCs present immediately fixed their gazes on Tang Mu.

Suddenly being stared at by so many people, Tang Mu felt a surge of pressure. Yet after a brief moment of composure, she turned to Eli and offered a self-mocking, faintly sorrowful smile.

“So a Black Attendant can also ignore the game’s rules and directly announce to outsiders who the game players are?”

Eli's expression remained cold. “It was you who broke the rules first.”

“…”

“All right then. Call it my bad luck; I admit it. But Mr. Eli, I have to win this game.”

Eli’s face betrayed no reaction to Tang Mu’s declaration. He replied coolly, “Good luck,” as if he were not the same handsome man who had just pulled Tang Mu into the small room moments ago.

Eli then raised his wrist to check the time on his watch.

“After the heated discussion we just had, I believe you all have a general idea about the first murderer. However, the correct voting time is tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. You have the whole night to review, deduce, and make your final decision.

“In one hour, we will have dinner prepared for everyone. Esteemed guests, I hope you enjoy your meal.”

With these words, delivered in a tone laced with irony, Eli left the VIP lounge accompanied by James, who was also a steward.

Tang Mu watched Eli’s indifferent retreat, her thoughts deep and unreadable.

The guests all sat quietly in their seats. The silence was profound. No one seemed eager to be the first to speak and break the deadlock.

Instead, it was Tang Mu who once again proved herself the most adept at breaking through a predicament, swiftly snuffing out any unfavorable factors before they could take root.

“You all heard it, didn’t you? I’m a player. My compartment number is 04. From 7:00 to 9:00 tonight, I’ll be there and waiting.”

Both players and NPCs took her words to heart, though none spoke in response.

It was as if they hadn’t heard a thing Tang Mu said.

Dinner consisted of Italian pasta and sirloin steak. After finishing their meals in silence, everyone returned to their compartments for the night.

Since this was the VIP carriage, each person had their own private space in addition to shared areas like the dining room and restroom. Even the maid Dale and the butler Jim had their own quarters.

Tang Mu’s compartment was solitary—just her, a bed, and a small writing desk.

She sat quietly on the bed for half an hour. Glancing at her watch, the time read 6:50 p.m.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Who would have guessed—the first to seek her out was Lady Ottilia?

Tang Mu frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re a player.”

Lady Ottilia bristled at the accusation. “Of course I’m a player. What’s wrong with that?” Her real name wasn’t Ottilia, but she had no choice; those were the game’s rules.

The game dictated her identity, and she had to abide by it. If she revealed any information that didn’t match her assigned character, her fate would be the same as Tang Mu’s—her player status exposed, and she’d become the target of all.

Tang Mu couldn’t help but press her hand to her forehead at this unwelcome news.

“Oh, God. How is anyone supposed to keep playing like this?” Her expression was one of utter exasperation.

Once again, Ottilia was riled up by Tang Mu. “What do you mean by that?” One hand on her hip, the other waving her feather fan impatiently at herself. “Do you think I’m too dim-witted to be your teammate?”

Tang Mu sighed. “No, please, have a seat.”

Of course, only Tang Mu herself knew how much sincerity lay in that denial.

“So, who do you suspect?”

Unlike Ottilia, who was prone to emotional outbursts, Tang Mu went straight to the point.

Ottilia pursed her lips, thinking for a moment before replying, “I suspect Bartholomew, but I also suspect Mackey. If both of them are NPCs, then they could easily collude to cover for each other.”

“You’re not wrong. I have my doubts about that as well.”

“So who are we supposed to vote for tomorrow morning?” Ottilia scratched her head in frustration. “I’ve always hated these deduction-based escape games. They’re just not suited for girls like us with big hearts but not much for logic! Our strengths are on the emotional side, not rational or logical thinking!”

Tang Mu listened to Ottilia’s rambling in silence, offering no immediate response. Instead, she advised her to be patient and hear what the others had to say.

The next visitor was James.

At 7:11 p.m., James pushed open the door, visibly relieved as if he’d survived a disaster.

“My god, I never imagined that Eli, whom I work with, is actually a Black Attendant!”

He patted his chest, looking as though he’d only just recovered from a serious fright.

“You can’t imagine how nervous and on edge I was working with him in the kitchen just now. The person who could kill me using the game’s rules was right beside me! And I couldn’t even fight back or reveal myself!”

Tang Mu glanced at James, skeptical. “A train attendant can be a player too?”

“Of course!” James shouted, his voice sharp. “Even though we’re ruled out as suspects from the start, we still have voting rights! And while it’s relaxing to lie low as a player, we still need to identify the real murderer to save ourselves!”

“So between Bartholomew and Mackey, who do you suspect?”

“For now, I have no idea.” James spread his hands. “It’s too hard to guess. They sit in the same position, have similar motives, and both have experience with firearms.”

As James spoke, the maid Dale, the butler Jim, the doctor Adra, and the train driver Klan Vito all arrived as well. They came together, each declaring that they also had no idea who the murderer was.

It was simply too difficult to judge.

As for Ottilia’s husband, Mr. Hurt Arnold—when he arrived, he brought the players an important clue.

“My compartment is right next to Bartholomew’s room,” he said. “I’ve been eavesdropping through the wall, and I was shocked to hear them in the same room, whispering about how to deceive us and confuse our judgment!”

“It seems they don’t care if we, the players, can identify the real murderer. Their goal is simply to keep us all here!”

Mr. Hurt Arnold was visibly anxious.

“So what do we do now? We can’t just let these damned NPCs toy with us, can we?”