At this mont, Minister Bader, who had not shown any significant emotional fluctuations, suddenly lowered his head and looked at the detective's body he was holding!
The corpse, which had long lost all signs of life, resembled a fleshy rag doll. Its eyes remained still, the mouth did not move, but incredibly eerie, it continued to emit sounds, with a hint of mockery in its tone...
"So, following this line of thought, why did you take the victim's clothes? It's obvious because you gave them to her, right? Perhaps you only gave her this one gift since you got married... She had shown it off in front of her few friends and only wore it when she saw you, right?
Haha, it was that alley where you invited her, wasn't it?
A busy minister finally invited his wife out on a date after many years of marriage.
But who could have anticipated... such a woman, who should have been admired and envied.
Turned out to be a promiscuous adulteress..."
"A splat!" resounded.
Minister Bader stomped forcefully on the head of the corpse.
The kick was strong enough to instantly crush the hardest bones in the human body. The shockwave splattered the scattered pieces of flesh, brain matter, and bone fragnts all over the walls, creating a crackling sound.
However, sothing was not quite right. Despite the force that could have smashed through the floor, the kick didn't cause much damage to the small room. Not even a speck of dust fell.
Minister Bader seed to have finally realized sothing. He reached towards the back of his neck and then... touched an extrely imperceptible spider silk.
"So... why did you kill those won in the lower district?
Initially, you didn't want to kill your wife, so you vented your anger on other impure individuals?
Then why were you so insistent on dividing all the internal organs into four parts?
Hmm, did your wife cheat on you with four different n... and you wanted to distribute her equally among all the n she was close to?
Although I sotis don't quite understand, you repressed individuals always have so peculiar thoughts.
And why leave behind the uterus?"
The detective's voice continued to echo from all directions in the apartnt, amidst the shattered and splattered body fragnts:
"Sss... Could it be that her uterus already held another life?
Did you discover it after cutting it open? But you don't know if that life belongs to you... so you hesitated for a mont?
Or perhaps you felt disgusted because her uterus had carried soone else's sticky genetic information, so you didn't want to touch it?
Tsk, although these are all speculations, it's probably the case..."
Sherlock's voice was not loud, but it was extrely penetrating. Every sigh of surprise or chuckle sounded particularly grating.
Minister Bader slightly lowered his head...
Although he remained silent, the veins on his thick neck were pulsating with anger. The blood inside seed to be bursting through the vessel walls, as if it wanted to erupt with tangible fury.
At the sa ti, he pulled the spider silk behind his neck, breaking it...
In that instant, all the scenery before him blurred, as if pignts were dissolving and rearranging in water.
The corpse disappeared, the blood vanished, and everything returned to how it was when he first entered the room.
As it turned out, he hadn't moved since then...
And Sherlock, still sitting in the worn-out leather sofa, crossed his legs with his fingers interlocked on his knee.
Beside him...
Catherine stood upright, while the High Priest sat on another sofa, with a terrifyingly huge spider crawling beside him.
"See... I told you the murderer would co knocking on the door," Sherlock said, spreading his hands, as if he didn't sense the suffocating oppression in the air.
But just as he said, the killer had confessed their own guilt, leaving no room for doubt.
This case... at this mont, the truth had been revealed.
Although many doubts remained... for example, when did Minister Bader discover his wife's infidelity? Did the beautiful woman cheat on four different n at different tis, or did they all co together? If they ca together, how big of a bed would they need? What positions did they maintain? What frequency? And whose child was growing in the uterus?
Well, these details didn't matter, as ntioned before, so cases don't require knowing too many specifics, just catching the culprit is enough.
As for how Sherlock knew who the killer was, it was quite simple.
Because Minister Bader was getting impatient...
Impatient to the point that every ti Sherlock recounted his deductions, he would raise questions at the most crucial points...
This didn't fit his character. As an executor of judgnt, his job was always about pursuing and judging, the group of law enforcent machines who only cared about the target, not the reasons. Everyone in the empire was well aware of this... And as the husband of the deceased or a devout follower of the church, he should have been consud with the desire to find the killer within 24 hours and throw them into the church's blood dungeon for torture and death!
But such a person, actually paying attention to the details of the investigation?
It felt as if during an exam, he asked the student behind him for the answer to multiple-choice questions but demanded that the student write down the solution process for each question.
It was too strange. Copying multiple-choice answers naturally only required knowing the options...
Of course, all of the above was just based on the detective's experience, along with his irresponsible arrogance and self-importance.
But Sherlock was exactly that kind of person. He knew with certainty that his deductions were correct, just as he knew how to stuff a person into a suitcase without worrying that they would die imdiately.
Thus, the killer arrived as expected and, with the help of so abyssal power, cleverly presented their identity within the radiance of holy light.
The case was perfectly concluded.
...
Hmm... it seems it's not entirely over yet.
Because the huge spider next to the High Priest started emitting sharp hissing sounds, Catherine's gaze beca increasingly solemn, and the air seed to thicken.
And at Bader's side, a pitch-black crack silently tore open.
It was an abyssal fissure that connected to hell...
Imdiately after, accompanied by a low roar, several enormous fangs protruded from the crack.
...
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