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"Wait." Suddenly, Jack said, "I've heard enough of your unreliable reasoning." He looked at Feng Bujue and said, "Everyone here has basically been called a murderer by you. He raised his arm and pointed, "Before you falsely accuse the next innocent person, I would like you to explain how to clear your own suspicions? How do we know... Are you playing the role of a detective to assist you?" The police solve the crime in the name of framing others?"
"Humph... That's a good question." Feng Bujue replied, then laughed and said nothing, leaving Jack aside.
After a short silence, Brother Jue turned his head and said to the two police officers: "Detective Schofield and Officer Temple, you sit down and eat too. See, I have prepared your portion too. Is it served?"
"Uh... this..." Schofield and Templeton looked at each other.
These two were indeed hungry, and there were still several empty seats on the long table. After hesitating for a few seconds, they took their seats unceremoniously.
"Hey! Don't change the subject! You answered my question!" Jack said again.
"That's right." Colston continued, "I also want to ask you, what is your origin? How can you prove that you are not a murderer? Before in the study, you were swearing at each other and avoiding my questions. Now Can you please clarify in front of everyone?"
Just when the atmosphere was tense, Aunt Oliver returned from the kitchen again, and this time she brought soup.
At this juncture, no one got up to help anymore, every pair of eyes on the dining table were looking at Feng Bujue, wanting to hear his response.
Brother Jue took the soup bowl from Oliver and said comfortably: "It seems...you still haven't understood the meaning of my inquiries. It doesn't matter, I'll demonstrate it again."
Then, he began a shocking statement: "I think... the murderer who killed Dennis Lovecraft is me—Feng Bujue!" exactly the same...
"Hey... Is he mentally retarded... Why am I not surprised at all..." Police Officer Schofield thought to himself.
The other people at the table basically thought the same as him. Even Aunt Oliver, who was serving the soup, stopped her movements and looked at Brother Jue with a crazy look.
"Ms. Oliver, the soup won't taste good when it's cold." Feng Bujue turned his head and said, "Don't worry about what I said, you can continue serving the dishes."
"Uh... ok... ok." Oliver replied dully.
"The motive for the murder..." Feng Bujue gently stirred the soup in front of him, and continued with the words just now, "Maybe it was entrusted by someone..." He took a sip of the bouillabaisse soup in the bowl, "Hmm... the taste of the Mediterranean Jumping on the tip of the tongue, huhu..." He blew off a little heat and drank several spoonfuls.
"Feng...Mr. Feng..." Schofield couldn't turn a deaf ear to these words, "Are you joking?"
"It's interesting, isn't it?" Feng Bujue laughed, "If a person says something that is extremely unfavorable to him in an unusually calm tone, others will be confused." He paused, "Detective, You already know who the murderer is, don't you? Please don't question the conclusion you have made just because of my few words."
"Uh... okay." Schofield replied. He wiped his sweat with a napkin, and thought to himself: Indeed... Mr. Feng always acted nonchalantly when he was making nonsense, and it was impossible to judge his truth from his expression and tone. A famous detective is powerful, true and false, unpredictable...
"Where did I say... Oh yes, motivation." Feng Bujue continued, "There is one thing that cannot be denied no matter what, that is, my life and Dennis's life did not have any intersection before today. This point , even if checked repeatedly, the result will not change.
So... For me, the motives for murder that can be established are as follows. First, Dennis and I were on the same page, and I disliked him for no reason. He kindly gave me a ride, but I secretly wanted to kill him and then hurry up. He ate a few mouthfuls of the soup, and said again, "Secondly, I am a perverted killer. I kill people for basically no reason, out of interest and pleasure, or just treat it as an after-dinner activity or something." He looked up and scanned the crowd, satisfied with their expressions, "It seems that the first two are not convincing, but the third seems more likely. "
Feng Bujue leaned back in the chair and spread his hands, "Maybe, I'm a professional killer." He pointed to the dishes on the table with the spoon in his hand, "As you can see, I am versatile. Compared with Chef, the professional correlation between killer and detective... seems to be stronger, doesn't it?" He smiled, "As long as the physical condition allows, an excellent detective can also become an excellent criminal. Although I personally prefer For a position like a criminal consultant, but a professional killer...why not?"
"Yeah, it's pretty cool." Miss Nancy replied abruptly. Obviously, she already understood what Feng Bujue was doing, so... If you want to talk nonsense, let's talk about it together.
"Heh..." Feng Bujue smiled at her, and continued, "So, I, a professional assassin, took action. I found out Dennis' whereabouts in advance, and ambushed in the mountains, on his only way.
What do you guys think of the 'put a block in the middle of the road, and while he's parked, go out and shoot him with a mask on'? Do not! That's not what I'm going to do, I decided to pretend to be a car accident victim and get close before doing it.
Then you say what should I do? Put on a fake beard or something, put a gun in your pocket, and shoot him on the road as he steps out of the car to talk to me? Then I would be too inferior, it would be an insult to my professional name.
I have to follow him to this villa... In a place full of people, let as many people as possible see my face, remember my name, and then look for an opportunity that will come at an unknown time, go to make him… "
"That's enough!" Colston interrupted. "Your point is already clear, so there's no need to go on."
"You are the ones who interrupted, and you are the ones who can't listen." Feng Bujue glanced at Jack maliciously, "I might have been able to serve you when the raspberry vinaigrette arugula leaf salad and the pan-fried bacon tender chicken roll with fig puree were served. I just finished talking, now... huh... I guess I won't be able to finish talking when dessert comes."
On the surface, Brother Jue confronted the father and son arrogantly, but in fact, he was very grateful to these two in his heart.
"Sure enough... people can't do without a few enemies... thank you for helping me last a chapter." He thought to himself. RS
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