There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game

Chapter 462 - 402: Exchanging Names is the Beginning of Trust

But to say companion would be a stretch, a toy would be more apropos.

The cool night breeze blew gently, lifting the walnut-colored strands of hair on her forehead, her smile fleeting.

She lowered her gaze once more, half submerged in the shadows of the flowers, her expression outlined by the red light murky and indistinct, with only a hint of loneliness and sorrow showing in her eyes.

"Alex..."

Suddenly, she softly called out his name.

The hollow sound seemed to rise from the depths of his soul, shaking his consciousness, and it inexplicably brought about a strange palpitation, accompanied by unfounded bewilderment.

Alex, that was his name.

But something seemed to have changed just now?

Then, the Traveling Poet came back to his senses and looked toward the girl ahead, only to see her lifting the hem of her dress and turning to walk down from the flowerbed.

"Walk with me?" she asked, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

"Alright," the Traveling Poet paused before responding.

The two left the flowerbed in front of the castle and stepped onto the flying buttresses, proceeding from the outer walls onto the castle’s rampart paths.

The ramparts, designed for admiring views, were also spacious, with attractive patterns carved on the half-arched vaults, which appeared and disappeared under the light of the oil lamps.

The pitch-black night and the dim lighting made their shadows seem quite unremarkable.

The Traveling Poet looked up at the lamps hanging from the columns, his thoughts suddenly deviating—he remembered that crystal chandeliers were used during the banquet in the castle’s great hall.

He turned his head to look outside, the height allowing a distant view of Prague Manor, but apart from the red roses swaying under the light, he could hardly see any beautiful scenery.

Even the fields and vine trellises of daylight were submerged in the profound darkness.

From afar, it seemed as if only the castle was emitting light, and beyond its walls stretched the boundless Dark Abyss.

The manor’s gate did not seem far away.

Even now, as he had come outside the castle, there were no defenses at all. Perhaps with a little effort, he could leap right out of Prague Manor.

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The Traveling Poet did not believe that escaping from the manor was just a matter of running away.

Outside, there was the eerie Dark Forest.

After they ran out of the forest—or even just the moment they entered it—they would be intruding not just into a manor but into a domain known as "Prague Legend."

"Do you want to leave this place?"

Suddenly, the girl who was walking in front of him stopped, turned her head, and asked him this question.

The Traveling Poet’s gaze snapped back to reality, falling on the girl ahead, with her pitch-black eyes fixed firmly on him, devoid of any superfluous emotion, as if it were just a casual inquiry.

He did not respond directly but questioned in return, "Having stayed in this castle for so long, have you ever thought about leaving and exploring distant places?"

The girl was taken aback after hearing this.

She turned her head to gaze into the distance, then said, "Sister said it’s very dangerous outside..."

"Must you always listen to her?" the Traveling Poet interjected.

"Yes." The girl lowered her gaze, "In Prague Castle, Sister is the supreme authority to us; no one would think to go against her wishes."

"Margaret Green?"

"Mm."

"Cerys... may I call you that?" The Traveling Poet seemed about to continue but then seemed to remember something, and instead asked the girl before him.

"Of course, you can." The girl smiled.

The expression on the Traveling Poet’s face remained largely impassive, but he looked at her intently with his amber eyes, saying, "Then Cerys, why did you warn me earlier to leave this place? Because I am a ’guest’ invited by your sister, right?"

Upon the city walls, a chill breeze swept between the two, the girl’s black pupils dilating slightly before she quickly averted her gaze.

"This guy is really getting it."

Xu Shuo took a few steps to the side, attempting but failing to casually increase the distance between himself and the Traveling Poet, then said in a low voice, "You don’t belong here, Alex; you shouldn’t be trapped in Prague Castle."

"Why would I be trapped here?" the Traveling Poet persistently inquired.

"You ask too many questions."

Xu Shuo turned and, lifting her skirt slightly, continued walking forward, quickening her pace.

The Traveling Poet, left standing in place, lightly touched his temple with his fingers, intending to soothe the sudden strange tumbling in his mind, but upon lifting his head and seeing the girl turning to leave in quick steps, he subconsciously hurried to follow.

"Cerys, I did not leave before dark as you said, and even attended the evening banquet," the Traveling Poet spoke from behind her, "so do you think I still have a chance to leave?"

Upon hearing this, the girl ahead indeed stopped her hurried steps.

She stood atop the flying buttress stairs, suddenly turning around, gazing down from above at the Traveling Poet in the passage below, her eyebrows slightly furrowed and her expression hesitant.

"Can you really not tell me, Cerys?" the Traveling Poet looked up at her.

Xu Shuo blinked, bowed her head and, without saying anything more, turned and continued upward, with the anticipated sound of following footsteps soon coming from behind.

A smile crept onto his lips, and the two ascended the outer wall’s staircase to an even higher part of the castle.

Up here, the wind seemed even stronger, and looking off into the distance, one could faintly make out the layered shadows within the forest; those clumps of trees resembled clawing monsters.

The girl took a deep breath before turning to him and saying, "Alex, no guest is able to leave after attending a banquet."

Once again, the Traveling Poet lapsed into an inexplicable daze before realizing to ask, "Why? Your butler said that someone would go to the town tomorrow to ask the lord to send the Knight Order to escort us out."

However, the girl looked at him with confusion: "The Knight Order? No, I have never seen the Knight Order in Prague Castle."

"So your butler lied?"

"I don’t know..." The girl smoothed her hair away from her forehead and avoided his gaze as she spoke, "Alex, please stop asking me these questions."

"Alright."

The Traveling Poet stood beside her, watching the pitch-black scenery outside the castle for a while, then suddenly turned and pointed at the Tall Tower not far away, asking, "May I ask what that place is?"

From this position, one could see the tower’s surrounding corridors and stained glass windows very clearly.

Under the night sky, the Tall Tower was brightly adorned, with red rose vines wrapping around the walls and columns, almost completely engulfing the tower.

"That’s where my sister lives."

Xu Shuo’s eyes flickered as she explained, "My sister often stays there alone. She doesn’t like to be disturbed, so we seldom go there."

The Traveling Poet pondered, "Have you been inside?"

"No, my sister never lets us get close." He purposefully lowered his gaze to avoid eye contact as he said this.

"So Margaret Green is really not in the castle right now?" the Traveling Poet asked further.

"I’m always unclear about my sister’s whereabouts. If she says she’s not here, then she must not be. After all, in the entirety of Prague Castle, only she is free to leave."

That statement seemed somewhat illogical.

Thinking carefully, the Traveling Poet recalled that it was indeed odd how the butler invited them to spend the night at the castle yet later claimed that the hostess wasn’t actually there.

But it was best not to dwell too much on such eerie logic; it could lead one down a rabbit hole.

The Traveling Poet fixed his eyes on the girl before him, once again asking seriously, "Since she’s not here, have you ever thought about leaving this castle, going outside?"

The girl’s eyelashes trembled slightly; she glanced up at him in a somewhat panicked manner.

—Ah, he really is too much!

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