The detective is dead, I did it.

What did she see in Chapter 85?

"Let me tell you! The breakfast here is delicious."

Shirley put down her fork, picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth, then looked at the mostly empty plates on either side of her, tilted her head, and asked, "By the way, aren't you guys hungry?"

Everyone picked up their knives and forks and began to eat in silence, including Charlotte.

Neither she nor Bridget ate dinner last night, partly because they were disgusted that these things were taken from the jailer's body, and partly because they were worried that the jailer might have put something inside.

It wasn't a concern about poisoning. After all, Li Ang had previously stated that the prison guards were very strong, and killing them would be no difficult task for them.

But what if it's a sleeping potion? That would allow the witch to silently kill everyone in their sleep at night.

Charlotte couldn't help but have this suspicion.

But with Bridget's death, this speculation was refuted; at least, she wanted to see the other's body.

Thinking of this, she looked up at Li Ang, who was also looking at her.

"I'm going to check out Bridget's death scene. Anyone want to come with me?" Leon stood up and raised his voice to make sure everyone in the restaurant could hear him.

Boudica straightened up. "I'll go too."

She pushed the chair under the table with a swift and decisive motion, a few strands of short hair falling across her forehead, which she casually tucked behind her ear.

She and Bridget knew each other in real life. Although they belonged to different branches, they graduated from the same class and had an extremely close relationship.

Although she remembers nothing now, including all the things she and the other person did in the past, for some reason, her heart still skipped a beat when she heard that the other person had died.

This even caused some resentment towards Li Ang for asking him to protect Lilith, which led to his irrational actions.

Although she later used the excuse of wanting to test him, it's likely that in this man's mind, the possibility of her being a witch has increased significantly.

Charlotte folded the napkin and placed it on the table. Without standing up, she turned to look at Leon, "And me."

"I'll go too." Isabella stood up as well, her eyes downcast, avoiding eye contact with anyone. No one knew why she wanted to go—whether it was to continue searching for clues or to prove something.

Shirley raised her hand, like a schoolchild answering a question in class, "Um... can I go take a look too?"

Li Ang nodded. "Then let's go together. Who's the others?"

Lilith and Emily hesitated, but ultimately remained silent.

Although the former really wanted to go, after all, Bridget died protecting him, his fear of death outweighed his gratitude.

The latter, however, dared not, fearing that seeing Bridget's death would make him unable to eat dinner.

Elena originally wanted to go too, but seeing that there were already so many people, she was too embarrassed to ask again.

Caltacia didn't stand up, but leaned back in her chair, her hair hanging down her chest. She glanced at Leon and said, "You guys go ahead. We'll wait here. Come back and tell us what you find."

"Okay." Li Ang turned towards the door, took two steps, then stopped, looked back at Eloi, and said, "Could you please stay here and look after the others?"

If we were to say who, besides himself and Charlotte, is the least suspicious in this game, it would be Aloy.

After all, the other party is a detective of the same level as Charlotte, and has the special professional ability of a judge. Even with this kind of identity memory distortion, he can still remember the association's various documents and laws, and even his own identity information that he just registered not long ago.

This is enough to show that the other party is the least suspicious.

Eloi didn't ask why, she simply said, "Okay."

Although she didn't remember her former identity, the subconscious thought that the presiding judge's duty wasn't to be on the front lines but to sit in the dock and wait for the evidence to be delivered still influenced her.

Li Ang led everyone out of the restaurant.

The light in the corridor was a little brighter than before. The jailer hadn't gone far; it was huddled in the shadows at the corner of the corridor, its body smaller than before, shriveled like a sponge that had been exposed to the sun for too long and was about to dehydrate.

"We're going to see Bridget's body." Leon stopped in front of it. "Is that in accordance with the rules?"

The jailer remained silent for a moment, or rather, it spent those few seconds pondering the system of rules within its body that Li Ang could not see.

"Permission granted," it then spoke slowly, "but the body must not be disturbed. Follow me."

"Understood." Li Ang stepped aside to let the jailer lead the way.

It began to wriggle, the wet, slimy substance beneath its body leaving a shimmering trail on the stone floor.

Leon followed behind it, Charlotte was half a step behind him, Boudica and Isabella walked side by side in the middle, and Sherry walked at the very back.

During this time, Shirley's expression had an inappropriate kind of curiosity, like a child entering a museum for the first time, but fortunately no one paid attention to her.

The corridor was long. They passed cell after cell, each marked with a different number, but the numbers were not in a consecutive order, as if someone had deliberately scrambled and rearranged them.

Li Ang recalled that his and Charlotte's cells didn't have such numbers, suggesting that the location of the cells could affect the room numbering.

The jailer stopped in front of a door. The door was numbered 177, and through the bars, they could see Bridget lying on a haystack.

She was curled up, her right hand outstretched towards the iron gate, her index finger extended, the tip touching the ground, as if she were trying to point at something at the last moment.

Her left hand was pinned under her body, she was lying on her side, her long hair was scattered on the dry grass, and a few strands were stuck to her cheeks, covered with dried blood.

Blood seeped from her chest, staining the fabric of her clothes with a large, dark, damp patch. The edges were beginning to dry, and the color had changed from bright red to dark brown.

Her eyes were wide open, her pupils dilated, but beneath that dilated light was a deep and intense shock, a look of utter disbelief that she had died with her eyes wide open.

This reminded Li Ang of how he looked when he first met Charlotte—both died with their eyes wide open in disbelief, and the same was true of that viscount.

It seemed that in both murder scenes I'd encountered, the victims both died with their eyes wide open in disbelief. Of course, the only one who truly deserved to die was the Viscount.

Bridget's expression now tells a story: she not only knows the person who killed her, but is also very surprised by her identity, otherwise she wouldn't have such a shocked look in her eyes.

What did she see? Or rather, who did she see?

Boudica stood in the doorway, not going in. Her feet seemed nailed to the threshold, her hands hanging limply at her sides, clenched into fists.