Super Righteous Player-Chapter 1224 - 262 The Shell That Was Once Cast Aside

"""

Without a doubt, these are the "sticky notes" left by Crow.

Considering that the doctor couldn’t see them...

This might just be the "true thoughts" of these people.

The two pieces of paper belonging to the repairman and the philosopher, which Annan saw in the previous round, still existed. It’s just that the philosopher’s paper no longer had bloodstains and looked brand new.

What was obviously different this time was that the sticky notes had no bloodstains; instead, they were crudely circled with a black marker.

Annan originally wanted to check the other papers, but aside from the three he had already seen, the rest became blurry.

But it didn’t matter much.

Because at this moment, the door suddenly opened, and someone came in from outside.

One of them was the "repairman" with the appearance of an autistic child.

And the other one...

That was a man with disheveled hair and a scruffy beard, who looked quite haggard.

——Annan could recognize him immediately; he was the philosopher who had been "swinging" at the door earlier!

"Old woman... you guys got here first?"

Seeing the two, the philosopher forced a barely-there smile that seemed very perfunctory.

Generously speaking, it was like that awkward polite smile one might have after just discovering their wife cheating, their child failing an exam, being randomly lambasted by a stranger, and then having to patiently explain to a clueless boss "why things can’t be done this way"...

Both of them were clearly not the talkative kind.

After sitting down... they didn’t speak again.

The doctor looked at the repairman as though he had something to say. But the repairman kept his head down and his gaze never met with the doctor’s.

In the end, the doctor sighed silently, not uttering a word.

Just as he had said himself—he was a deserter.

The embarrassing silence didn’t last long. The repairmen had barely warmed their seats when the uncle came in supporting the pregnant lady, knocking on the door.

The rather plump pregnant lady loudly said as she entered:

"Doctor, I’ve been feeling really unwell lately... Am I about to give birth?"

"Let me check, madam."

The doctor behind Annan said in a deep voice.

He pushed Annan’s wheelchair to the table.

He went to the door and, together with the uncle, helped the plump pregnant lady sit at the table. The uncle also sat down, let out a deep breath, and took a big gulp of water.

"Don’t drink water so hastily," the doctor advised, "It’s bad for your health."

"Oh, thank you..."

The uncle replied.

And at this time, Annan raised his voice and said loudly, "Where’s that kid Crow? Has anyone seen Crow?"

With the identity of the "old woman" Annan was currently playing, it was absolutely normal for him to question the whereabouts of the "absconding employee" Crow.

So no one became suspicious.

The uncle was recalling, "I saw him earlier... just a few hours ago, he ran into my wheat field. He trampled quite a bit of my wheat."

"I saw him too when I went out..."

The philosopher said, "I saw him coming in this direction—hasn’t he arrived yet?"

"Don’t know."

The doctor replied, "There was no one here when we came in."

"Not exactly, doctor."

The old woman that Annan was playing let out a snide chuckle, "Although it’s true that there was no one in this room when we came in..."

As Annan spoke, he struggled to rise from his wheelchair and tapped the edge of the table lightly with his hand, drawing the attention of the people around.

"Take a look at this, friends.

"I believe the only person who would leave shoe prints on the table in my sister’s home would be that guy."

At the spot Annan was pointing at, there were clear signs of dust. It was precisely the mark left by shoes that had been resting on the edge of the table.

"This means Crow has already been here once. But for some reason, he left again."

The doctor said thoughtfully.

"""

""Not just that," at that moment, the repairman spoke up for the first time, "Since the ash is still on the table, it indicates that he didn’t say goodbye to his sister when he left. Otherwise, she surely would have cleaned the table."

More precisely, after Blondie left, his sister never came out from the kitchen.

Or is it that...

Annan turned his gaze towards the kitchen.

"Doctor," he uttered in a hoarse voice, like that of a crow, "go ask his sister—does she know when Blondie came and when he left?"

"...Alright, I’ll go ask."

The doctor seemed hesitant, as if he did not really want the old woman to find Blondie.

But seeing no objections from the others, he still went over.

"Sister? What are you doing?"

No matter how the doctor knocked, no one opened the kitchen door.

"The bubbling sound of stewing can be clearly heard from inside, yet there are no footsteps or other sounds..."

The doctor turned back, his face expressing doubt, and reported to the crowd: "Could it be that they both went out before we arrived?"

"Are you an idiot?"

Annan bluntly asked, "If they both left, then who locked the kitchen door?

"Go and break the door down. If I’m not mistaken...something might have happened inside."

—But as to exactly who it happened to, that remains uncertain.

Annan silently added this thought to himself.

He just sat there in his wheelchair, watching as the doctor broke open the kitchen door—

Blondie was found hanging in his sister’s kitchen, dead for quite some time already.

He appeared to have hung himself, but there was no stool under his feet for him to stand on.

The thing that Blondie was hanging from was a ceiling fan rotating slowly...the body rotated in place along with the fan, just like a roast chicken in a fireplace.

But it wasn’t a rope that he was hung by.

Instead, it was a pair of black stockings that, theoretically, should not have been able to support his weight.

And "sister" was not even there.

Long before Annan and the doctor had entered, Blondie had already been hung to death there!

Just like in the first loop—Annan saw a bloody handprint on the philosopher’s nametag, and as it turned out, the philosopher indeed bled profusely at his time of death.

And Blondie was marked with a black circle, ending up "hanged by something black."

Is this some sort of information? Or a prophecy?

—Of course not.

Because in reality, it is a code.

Someone is using this method to send some kind of message to Annan—that he can see this tag, too. And that person wishes Annan to know about this.

"...Heh."

The corners of Annan’s mouth lifted slightly: "It seems a third loop won’t be necessary."

"What?"

The doctor asked with some confusion: "What did you say?"

"There’s only one person who could have done this."

Annan spoke to himself.

"He, like me, is an outsider in this nightmare—we are the exceptional entities."

That is the other side of Annan.

Or rather, the "past self" that Annan once forgot... Hence the clues that only Annan was supposed to see have been altered.

"In Blondie’s death, it’s obvious that the murderer is ’sister.’ She hasn’t tried to hide it.

"Tracing back from this answer, one can also conclude...in the philosopher’s death, the murderer was also ’sister.’ No matter how she left the kitchen, when everyone was accounted for, she was the only person without an alibi.

"This means, unlike me—during these two cycles, your ’randomly’ assigned identity was fixed.

"What is this, some kind of test for me? Or a boring little game of [entertainment]? Leaving so many clues, I think you don’t harbor any ill will against me."

"—Certainly not."

The gentle voice of the sister rose from the living room: "You are wrong...probably by about one third."