In the script, Hans, who had previously been a pickpocket, was discovered dead in their room, accompanied by his girlfriend/wife. The strange thing was that the cause of death was a gunshot, yet no one claimed to have heard any unusual noises last night.
Lina explained that she had been heavily sedated and found Hans lying on the floor when she woke up in the morning. When Brandon asked the others, they claimed that due to last night’s thunderstorm, they had heard nothing at all.
Yan Chuan lowered his eyelids. He had already gone to the kitchen to splash some cold water on his face to wash away the soot that had accidentally smeared on him, which helped to awaken him somewhat. The cold wind blew into the lobby through the open door, quickly dispelling the slight warmth collected by the fireplace.
Combined, these factors made Yan Chuan feel a bit cold. He silently buttoned up his jacket. The cause of Hans’s death was gunshot, and both Brandon and Yan Chuan quickly thought of Duncan as their prime suspect. However, Duncan indifferently argued that the caliber of bullet he used was different from the one that killed Hans.
He also brought some bad news: because of the heavy rain last night, the small hill where Duncan and the others had parked their car had been washed away, and now they had no idea where their vehicle had gone. All their equipment and weapons were in the car; they had only taken out a few personal items.
Yan Chuan pursed his lips. He felt this news was worse than Hans’s death. Originally, after the first day, the guests were all on guard, especially against Duncan and his group, and now they heard the news of Hans’s death. At this moment, Duncan claimed that Hans’s death had nothing to do with them. He said, “There’s someone in this inn who is armed.”
The identity of that gunman was unknown, hidden among the group of travelers in the inn. In this stormy weather, committing such a crime left everyone uncertain of who the culprit might be.
Yan Chuan bit his lip. The atmosphere grew even more silent. Outside, the cold wind howled through the dense, layered forest, battering against the windows. Dark clouds shrouded the sky, presenting a gloomy color that obscured the already dim sun. The rain intensified.
Ash broke the silence first. “I’ll close the door and get ready to prepare lunch.” This young man walked to the front door, shutting it to block out the cold from the outside. “Let’s sit down and rest for now.”
The door creaked shut. The cold wind and rain were isolated outside, making the inn a bit warmer. Yan Chuan sat behind the counter and added more embers to the fireplace. After Ash spoke, Brandon, who had been previously dazed, suddenly came to his senses.
He followed up, saying, “I’ll take care of Hans’s body.” It was summer, and with ample rainfall in the Misty Forest, the humidity was high; they definitely couldn’t let Hans’s body remain in the inn’s room. Just like how Duncan and his group disposed of Vincent’s companion’s body outside the inn.
Brandon didn’t specify how he intended to handle the body, simply continuing, “If it wasn’t Duncan who fired the gun, then there’s still someone else in this inn who is armed.” The officer’s expression grew serious. “I will check the inn’s rooms; I hope everyone cooperates.”
The presence of a killer was frightening, but a gunman was even more terrifying, especially when they had no idea who the next target was. Under such circumstances, Brandon’s proposal to check the guests’ rooms was understandable.
[Don’t be a riddle… I find everyone suspicious right now. However, my wife is just an innocent, pretty small-town girl who doesn’t know that there are so many bad people in this inn. You see, I have a legitimate reason to stay behind now. But I wonder if others will cooperate.]
Yan Chuan slowly blinked, his gaze sweeping over the various expressions on the faces of the others. He first looked at Hans’s girlfriend, Lina, who was sitting beside Mrs. Lan, her head wrapped in a scarf, covering half of her face as she silently wept. When she heard that Brandon was going to take Hans’s body away, she showed no reaction, as if overwhelmed by grief.
Mrs. Lan was comforting her while also holding her young son. She had protected the child well, covering his eyes so he wouldn’t witness the horrific scene. The boy, about eight or nine years old, seemed unable to understand what had happened, walking back and forth beside her, fiddling with the buttons on her clothing.
Mrs. Lan’s husband, a man reeking of alcohol with a very flushed neck, had taken out another bottle of beer from the counter and was drinking cup after cup. The remaining guests included Yan Chuan, Ash, and Duncan’s group, while Berkeley served as Brandon’s temporary “assistant.”
They had no objections to Brandon’s request to check the rooms. After all, aside from the contestants, no one wanted a gunman lurking in the inn where they were temporarily staying.