Chapter 17

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Chapter 17: The Door-Kicking Squad, Move Out!

Slam!

Inside the small cabin, Zhang Zhiyuan slammed photos of the crime scene on the table one by one. “The answer lies within these corpse arrangements.”

“Don’t keep us guessing, buddy—just tell us straight,” the American urged impatiently.

“It’s about the clocks.”

“Clocks…?”

“Yes, the victims’ hands and feet were positioned at specific angles corresponding to the three hands of clocks. Some angles required bending or overlapping limbs, necessitating bone fractures, resulting in the twisted and eerie appearance of the corpses!” Zhang Zhiyuan explained. “This isn’t due to any peculiar preference of the killer; it’s a deliberate attempt to announce their crimes!”

“Now that you mention it, it does seem to have that vibe,” Anthony Chekhov scrutinized the photos closely. “So, is this a time-related clue?”

“No, all the incidents occurred at night when public areas are typically deserted.” He shook his head. “The positions of the limbs represent numbers, and it’s the combination of these numbers that holds the riddle’s solution.”

“Wait, hold on… We need to clarify one thing first,” Zhou Zhi interjected. “Does this game also use the 24-hour format? If they have a different time system, these deductions might not stand.”

“Are you kidding me, kid? This is a game created by humans from Earth; would it possibly use any other time format?” Joe James rolled his eyes.

“But…”

“Their clocks also run for twelve hours per cycle,” Tyler suddenly spoke up.

“How do you know that?”

“When we were out earlier, I saw someone take out a pocket watch.” He raised his finger as if adjusting glasses, but there were no spectacles on this body, “It was quite far away, so I couldn’t see very clearly, but one of the hands was precisely pointing towards the six o’clock position, which roughly matched the outdoor dusk.”

“How far away was it?” the Russian man curiously asked.

“Approximately thirty-five feet, and the person was slightly ahead to my right.”

“Wow!” Anthony clapped his hands. “If you went hunting, you’d definitely be top-notch.”

Tyler smiled faintly, “I’m not particularly fond of taking pleasure in killing. Humans should coexist equally with nature.”

The smile vanished from Anthony’s face.

Thirty-five feet—that surprised Zhang Zhiyuan slightly, as it was over ten meters away! How could this man capture such details at such a distance? It wasn’t like they were intentionally focusing on him at that moment. Suppressing his astonishment, he cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Tyler has a keen eye. In fact, when I asked about Yeni Cathedral’s location, I casually inquired about this too—of course, what I asked was for the current time.”

“So you already knew the numbers indicated by those corpses?” Asahara Naruko questioned, puzzled. “Then why did we need to visit the scene ourselves?”

“Because we needed to confirm the origin… or rather, the starting point,” Zhang Zhiyuan pointed at the photo of the side chapel within the cathedral. “From just looking at the photo, we couldn’t determine the direction. Without visiting the site, we wouldn’t have been able to identify which limb represented the hour hand and which the minute hand. Now I know—the origin is the victims’ heads, all uniformly pointing northward. The first thick limb to the left, whether it be an arm or leg, represents the hour hand!”

“Aha, I see now! Thank you for explaining.” After studying it carefully, Naruko finally realized what he meant and said, “This trip has certainly been quite educational.”

“So, based on this photo, the hour hand points to three, minute hand at thirty-five, making it 3:35 together.” Zhang Zhiyuan held up another file before everyone, “And the next crime scene following Yeni Cathedral was the coffee shop on Maple North Street—its exact address is number 335!”

That was the answer to their earlier question.

“But Mr. Zhang, there’s still something missing from your theory.” Tyler pondered briefly, “What about the second hand? If we follow the clockwise direction of the limbs representing the hour and minute hands, shouldn’t the thinnest one also represent seconds and have its own value? For example, in this photo, it seems to point around forty seconds.”

“The second hand does indeed have a value, but it doesn’t relate to the address,” Zhang Zhiyuan responded. “That’s exactly what I’m about to explain. To understand the second hand, we only need to consider its position. For instance, forty seconds aligns roughly with the ‘eight’ mark on a clock face. Interestingly, the time gap between the cathedral case and the coffee shop case was precisely eight days! The reason they chose this format is that knowing just the location alone isn’t enough to pinpoint the exact moment of their crimes!”

“Wow—” Anthony whistled. “These guys sure have guts; do they want the cops to find them or something?”

Without a doubt, this was a blatant provocation against public safety.

“Dude, how did you even connect these photos to clocks?” Tyler seemed curious and asked, “Most people seeing these bloody scenes would either be too scared to look closely or get stuck on specific details. But you managed to analyze it from a broader perspective—now that’s impressive.”

“I used to…” Zhang Zhiyuan almost blurted out his past experience with similar cases but caught himself halfway through. “I’ve read many detective and mystery novels and downloaded various case files online as a personal interest. Whenever a killer wants to send a message, they often choose numbers as their medium. The ways to associate with numbers are limited… such as codes, clocks, patterns. The most extreme example I’ve seen involved hiding clues within geometric shapes…”

“All right, all right, those details aren’t important,” Zhou Zhi couldn’t help but interject. “Just get to the point, buddy. What location does the latest case indicate?”

“Number 958, and there are still two days remaining from now.”

“Two days?” Joe James exclaimed. “We have to stay here for two whole days just to pass this level? That won’t do; I have other plans tomorrow!”

“That’s also what I wanted to ask.” Zhang Zhiyuan raised his voice. “Host, are you listening? Surely you can answer this kind of question?”

“Certainly, I’ve been closely monitoring everyone.” A figure gradually materialized in the air—it was Chaoyang, the Paradise’s guide. “Please don’t worry, it’s merely a game, and I can adjust its progression at any time.”

“Progression… How exactly does that work?”

“When you’re actively engaged, the perception of time aligns with reality, as is the case now.” Chaoyang paused briefly. “However, once you enter hibernation, I can instantly fast-forward you to two days ahead, making it seem like—”

He snapped his fingers.

“—just like that.”

Zhang Zhiyuan blinked. For a brief moment, he indeed felt his vision darken, but it lasted only an instant. Before he could fully comprehend it, all perceptions returned to normal.

“Host, does that mean we’re already…”

“Yes, two days ahead,” Chaoyang replied. “The exact time is… 9:25 PM. As for the time outside the game, it remains precisely at the second before your jump.”

“Don’t just jump time without warning! I still had lots of preparations to make!” Zhang Zhiyuan stomped his foot. “Well, forget it. Next time you plan to jump, remember to give us advance notice. Since it’s now evening, we should first head—”

“Ah! Why is one of my fingers missing?” the American suddenly exclaimed in alarm.

Everyone turned their gaze towards him, seeing him wince in pain while holding up a hand with its middle finger absent.

“This… is a minor glitch, apologies. I’ll fix it immediately.” Chaoyang snapped his fingers again, and Joe James’ finger instantly reappeared as before.

“What happened?! How did this occur?” Joe gasped, visibly shaken.

“Just a program bug, we will address it promptly,” Chaoyang explained.

“We don’t have much time; we must hurry and set out!” Zhang Zhiyuan urged. “The time jump was quite significant, and we still don’t know which building is 958…”

“North District’s Golden Street, Sinclair Grand Theater,” Chaoyang interrupted.

Everyone fell silent, taken aback. It was the first time the Host directly provided such a hint.

“Just consider it compensation for that glitch earlier.” Chaoyang’s figure gradually faded away. “As a reminder, it’s already 10:11 PM now.”

“It took an hour just then?!” Zhang Zhiyuan’s expression changed abruptly. “The murderer may already be in position; we must act immediately!”

“I’ve been itching to get going, tired of waiting. The grand theater, huh? Let’s move!” Joe James rushed out of the small hut first.

Watching as the group rushed into the night, Chaoyang softly sighed… It was undeniable that having experts handle the situation was advantageous, but he made a significant oversight—the issue of time continuity. Creating these bodies required Wish Power consumption by the hour. To avoid losses, it was impractical to maintain these unconscious bodies for the entire two days. The most economical approach would be to dissolve them temporarily and recreate a new batch when needed. However, unlike molding clay, there was no inherent connection between the bodies created at different times. Despite his best efforts to ensure consistency, the final result remained barely satisfactory, even forgetting one finger.

This meant he had already incurred double the cost just for creating the bodies, not to mention this time there was an additional person involved.

Chaoyang shook his head and followed closely—given the circumstances, he could only hope for maximum Wish Power feedback later.