"This rose looks like it has been picked for a long time."
Qin Xiaohe boldly picked up the rotten roses on the corpse and looked closely. They all wore gloves when they touched things anyway, so they didn't worry about leaving any fingerprints.
"If you keep such a thing, does it mean that the old housekeeper has some ulterior relationship with his husband?" Yang Ming fully dispersed his thoughts, and then suddenly frowned and murmured: "That's not right, there doesn't seem to be anything in the yard.
No roses planted..."
"Who knows." Qin Xiaohe put the flowers back and took a look at the body again, looking very perverted.
The color of the corpse and the stiff and pale face in the night vision goggles are indeed full of horror.
Yang Ming: "..."
Qin Xiaohe touched under the pillow again, but found nothing. He regretfully covered it with the white cloth and said, "Don't be stunned. Hurry up and find this room and leave, lest the people next door find anything."
Yang Ming looked away with a stiff expression and continued to rummage through the closet. The two of them didn't even miss the pockets of their clothes.
However, at this moment, when Qin Xiaohe, who was standing next to him, turned his head inadvertently, his eyes suddenly widened as if he had seen something.
"What...what happened?" He panicked.
"He, he, he..." Tan Xiaohe pointed behind him and couldn't say anything.
Behind him?
Isn't there a bed behind him?!
What can you see that makes this heavy-tasting girl look frightened, and it’s rare for her to come closer like a real girl?!
At this moment, Yang Ming's heart felt like a heavy hammer. A cold feeling of fear rose from his tailbone to the top of his head. Goosebumps appeared all over his body. He looked back tremblingly and fearfully.
At this moment, he had a lot on his mind.
Then I saw nothing.
Yang Ming: "..."
"Hahahaha!" Tan Xiaohe suddenly burst into suppressed ridicule, covering his mouth and shaking his shoulders, with a teasing smile on his face: "Okay, I'm just teasing you."
Yang Ming said with a wooden face: "It's not funny at all."
I don’t know if it’s a rule of horror movies that bad jokes usually come true, g.
After Qin Xiaohe interrupted him, Yang Ming would always turn his head to look at the bed involuntarily while searching, just to see if the flag he had planted could still be removed.
But until they touched every place where things could be stored in the master bedroom, there was no corpse incident there.
Yang Ming breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that they were not entering a horror film set.
"I want to go look for the housekeeper's room." Tan Xiaohe glanced at the task with some unwillingness and said suddenly.
"Why do you act like a real thief..." Yang Ming said slightly speechless: "I haven't read the information I just copied from the computer. Maybe there is some news in it."
"Then you go back and look at the information, and I'll continue to go to the housekeeper's room to feel around." Tan Xiaohe still refused to give up.
It's already two or three in the morning, but they still haven't found anything, and they don't have time to search all over this huge manor. There's no indication of when this scripted killing will end.
What if it’s over at dawn tomorrow morning?
Yang Ming consoled him: "No, script killing usually ends after the truth is restored."
"Then if the truth can never be restored, we can't be trapped here forever, right? Don't you have a time limit for killing in your script?" Qin Xiaohe asked rhetorically.
"..." That's not necessarily the case.
"No matter what, we just need to complete our mission anyway. Who knows what this treasure will be, what if we accidentally missed it?" Qin Xiaohe continued, as if she was determined to touch the other person's room.
Seeing this, Yang Ming sighed: "Then go ahead, I'll give you a break at most. But with all due respect, your insistence on going your own way is really like the first person to receive a box lunch in a horror movie.
.”
"roll!"
Qin Xiaohe rolled her eyes, walked to the door and quietly opened the door and glanced outside. When she saw no one, she quickly ducked out, followed closely by Yang Ming.
The lights in the study were still on, the door was ajar, and warm yellow light was projected onto the corridor from inside.
Two figures walking against the wall slipped past quietly. When they reached the corridor, Yang Ming pointed to the study room and then sat in the corner.
Since this girl insists on touching someone else's room, let him just relax and watch what's going on in the study.
Both of them thought very clearly that if they dared to turn on the light in the middle of the night, they would be nothing more than people in the villa, and the other party also had the key to the study, so this identity was ready to be revealed.
Qin Xiaohe made an OK gesture and ran away quickly.
The villa is extremely quiet at night, and those who fall asleep cannot imagine the undercurrent surging outside at this moment.
Yang Ming leaned against the corner with a calm face, not knowing what he was thinking. The darkness in the night vision goggles appeared cyan, but these glasses did not seem to be high-end. His vision was only about two meters to his side, and he could not see from any further distance.
Cleared.
He occasionally paid attention to the movement in the study, but more often, he looked at other places in the villa.
As expected, they are probably not the only ones who go out for night walks at night. I just hope that other people's missions do not conflict with theirs.
Otherwise it would be very ugly to fight.
In the silent darkness, there was only a whispering sound coming from the study. Yang Ming turned his head and suddenly felt that he heard something else, very subtle but familiar.
The reason why he is so sensitive is precisely because he has been frightened like this just now.
"Click... click... click..."
the sound of.
The speed was irregular, and it sounded again at a very strange frequency, as if it was reflecting the emotions of the being who made the sound.
In the extremely silent villa, the sound coming from the darkness suddenly became very clear in his mind.
Isn't this just someone pressing the door handle?!
Yang Ming came to his senses and quickly checked the nearby rooms. However, in the room in the second corridor where he turned left, there was no door handle that could be pressed down, and no one came out of the study.
He distinguished it carefully and found that this subtle sound was indeed not an illusion and was still ringing.
Is it somewhere else?
Wait, Yang Ming suddenly lowered his head and looked towards the hall.
This side was actually close to the gate of the villa. At this time, after he consciously turned all his attention, he felt more and more that the sound was coming from that side.
If you keep pressing the door handle, it's impossible that the person inside wants to go out. It's only when someone outside wants to come in, but the door is locked and cannot be opened.
If it was the helper hired by the housekeeper, if it was also a guest staying overnight with them, why didn't the other person ring the doorbell?
Deep mountains, late at night, thunderstorms, a gloomy house, a gloomy knock on the door in the middle of the night...
For a moment, Yang Ming's mind was filled with scripts.
He pressed the Bluetooth headset, lowered his voice and asked: "Hey, how are you looking for over there?"
"What are you doing? Is there something wrong?" Tan Xiaohe's voice came from the earphones.
"In the middle of the night, someone was playing with the doorknob of the villa outside. I think I can't stand it any longer. Let's evacuate first..."
The sudden tragic death of the owner of the manor, the rotten roses, and the occultist who was found... Yang Ming really didn't want to think too deeply about what the script might be.
Although he has never played Script Killing, he still knows a lot about this game after being exposed to the Internet for so long.
Although most scripts are based on realistic logical reasoning, there are also some scripts that can have surreal and mysterious elements, which are called variable scripts.
