Chapter 1066: Prison... Well, That's It
Is this okay? Or does it require money? Perhaps the circle isn't the key, and the other three fingers are?
Bohemia stared at Snake-Skin's fingers for a few seconds, and he noticed her gaze. Slowly, he released his hand, probably thinking she understood.
The secretary, who was behind her, asked the inmates, "You're referring to inmate number 1718, the new arrival, right? I remember he's on your side."
Snake-Skin half-lowered one eyelid and made a sound from his nose, "Hmm."
"We won't give him a hard time," Moon Face, one of the guards, took over. "As long as he doesn't cause trouble for us."
Snake-Skin slapped the iron railing with force, and in the echoing thud, he grinned, revealing a row of darkened teeth. "We've had a good talk. Now, I need to sleep."
This was clearly a dismissal.
The next few faction leaders they met had various characteristics, some with large images of the Virgin Mary on their foreheads, some appearing like hobos, and some rugged and fierce. Even Bohemia, as a posthuman, couldn't help but be tense. However, regardless of who they were, without exception, they were polite and cooperative in her presence. Most importantly, there was another person who subtly gestured the same circle with his hand.
He also made a request, asking the guards to take better care of his side, this time referring to inmate number 1811.
Did the circle symbolize 'taking care of someone'? But how would a circle be used for that purpose?
On her way back to her office, Bohemia was engulfed in confusion.
"What a lousy game," she muttered as she prepared to go upstairs. "The hints are so vague; it's like they don't want people to pass..."
Walking a few steps behind her, the secretary said, "Huh? Miss Winters, were you talking to me?"
"No," Bohemia turned around. "I was just talking to myself..."
She paused without completing her sentence.
Once again, she saw the conference room's door, although half of it had disappeared behind the wall. There was always something about that door, causing a vague disturbance in her mind, yet she couldn't quite figure out what it was. She thought about it for a while, feeling frustrated that she couldn't put her finger on it.
When the two of them returned to the office, the clock's hands pointed to half past five, signaling that this long day was finally coming to an end.
As soon as they entered, the Descartes Spirit drifted out of the cabinet like a flowing mosaic, changing colors wherever it went. When it slid to Bohemia's feet, before it could speak, the phone on the desk suddenly rang, startling them both.
The secretary glanced at Bohemia and picked up the phone. Almost as soon as he said "Hello," the person on the other end began to shout, his voice loud enough to be heard through the receiver. The secretary listened for a moment, then covered the mouthpiece and whispered to her, "It's Detective Ravis."
Old Shoes!
Thankfully, the Sandwich Secretary didn't utter the nickname they had given Detective Ravis aloud.
"I'll put you on speaker now," the voice on the other end didn't stop for a second, and the Sandwich Secretary had to insert a word in the middle of the stream, "Hello? Say it again,"
Detective Ravis's angry voice, tinged with frustration, crackled through the phone, "What's going on? I've been waiting here all afternoon. Where's the doctor who was supposed to examine the body of Hersin? No one has informed me of anything from Gerald's side. The nurses don't know when the new doctor is arriving. I've been left hanging here all afternoon! I've called several times, and this is the first time someone answered!"
"Sorry, we were visiting the prison," the secretary apologized hurriedly. "I'll call the doctor right away... But I remember that the doctor was originally on vacation, and it's getting late now. We notified him on short notice, and I can't guarantee that he'll be able to come today. Maybe another day..."
"No, I won't leave!" Detective Ravis articulated each word, "I just examined Hersin's body, and it appears someone tampered with the wound on his abdomen. I'm not sure if it's that crazy female doctor... But even after the wound was disrupted, you can still see traces that suggest he was originally shot. If it's indeed a gunshot wound, this matter is far from minor..."
Sandwich Secretary made a bitter face in front of Bohemia.
Hersin was killed by a gunshot, which indicates that someone outside the prison wanted to assassinate him. He had a lot of evidence of a certain big shot's crimes in his possession. If it could be confirmed that he was indeed assassinated, it would inevitably lead back to that big shot. The damage to the gunshot wound was definitely prearranged early on. It's likely that even the cooperating doctor would have to be arranged again, so no one has come so far. It's just that they still haven't fooled Old Shoes.
Really troublesome, why didn't they arrange for the prisoners in the prison to stab him in the chaos?
Bohemia looked at the Sandwich Secretary, who was sweating profusely as he dealt with Old Shoes on the other end of the phone. After a while, she figured it out on her own: yes, Hersin held the fate of a big shot, which was too crucial. No matter how he died, his death would be thoroughly investigated. If the prisoners had killed him, it would inevitably lead to her as the prison warden. But if it was an outside investigator who killed him, what did she have to do with it? When asked, she could just play dumb, at most, it would be considered lax management.
It must be this Sandy Winters intentionally preventing the inmates from taking action.
"All right, let's do this. I'll have a nurse set up a bed for you," the Sandwich Secretary had no strength left to resist, "but do you really want to sleep next to a dead person? Is the next room okay? Fine, fine... I'll lock it, and you can have all the keys."
After hanging up the phone, he sighed deeply and wiped his face.
"This is going to be difficult," he said with a bitter smile. "Miss Winters, you need to inform that assistant quickly and have them prepare... Detective Ravis is known for being upright and obstinate."
Bohemia couldn't care less about their lives, anyway, protecting that mysterious big shot was not one of her goals. She said a few words to appease them, and she saw the Sandwich Secretary relax his shoulders and softly say, "This day has been really hard to endure, but it's still Friday night. Let's go home and rest well. Tomorrow we can go out for a good meal together... um, how about I take you home tonight?"
Bohemia immediately became cautious.
He had used that tone just now to invite her to that underground boxing restaurant that was covered in blood. If she wasn't careful, she might end up in the secretary's hands in the third stage!"
"No," she replied firmly, "I'll go back on my own."
"How far is it? Where is it?"
Bohemia opened her mouth but then hesitated. Where did Sandy Winters live?
The Sandwich Secretary thought she didn't want to say and explained a bit awkwardly and a little shyly, "I just thought... you told me, so I can pick you up for Japanese cuisine tomorrow..."
She chuckled inwardly. This person still wanted to find out where she lived—hiding ulterior motives!
Seeing that she didn't seem willing to share, Sandwich Secretary didn't dare to ask again. His face turned red, and he left her office in embarrassment, not even knowing what he had said. After watching his shadow leave the front door of the office building shortly after, Bohemia gave a triumphant hum and sat back in her chair. "Trying to harm me?"
Since she didn't know where she lived, she decided not to leave tonight. If there was nothing happening at the prison at night, it would be a perfect opportunity to talk to Lin Sanjiu—she still had that exam she saw in mind, feeling like there might be an opportunity in the questions.
The Descartes Spirit floated lazily onto the table, turning the objects on the table into a mosaic.
"Ahem—" even though it didn't have a throat, it pretended to clear its throat.
Bohemia ignored it—she was considering the flow of time in both games. The game's passage of time seemed to match her real-life perception; she felt like it had been an entire afternoon. But it seemed that Lin Sanjiu's game was progressing much slower... In other words, perhaps neither side had the actual flow of time...
"Hey!"
"What's up?" Her thoughts were interrupted, and Bohemia asked irritably.
"Since you left, I've been having a lot of fun."
"That's none of my business."
Seeing that she still didn't understand, the Descartes Spirit seemed a bit impatient. "I've discovered quite a few things!"
Those big, golden-brown eyes finally settled on it.
Bohemia waited in silence for a long while, and when the Descartes Spirit continued to say nothing, she urged, "Just tell me!"
"You used to find me talkative, didn't you?" The Descartes Spirit finally scored a point. "I kindly told you the secret to survival, and you didn't appreciate it, did you?"
She could list ten secrets like that with her eyes closed—Bohemia held her temper and decided to deal with it after leaving the Pocket Dimension. "I'm listening now, go on."
"Open the safe," the Descartes Spirit was almost bursting with information, "quickly—yes, take out that paper bag, no, the green one...yes, open it."
Bohemia pulled out a stack of documents.
The game was conducted in a language she could understand, so she recognized every word on the documents. However, when they were strung together, she had no idea what they meant. The documents were filled with legal terms and professional jargon, comprising several thick stacks, each separated into folders. Upon a brief scan, it seemed to be related to prisoners and cases. She knew this because two of the document covers had 1702 and 1718 written on them, which were the inmate numbers of the cannibal and Snake-Skin's inmate she had been asked to take care of.
"These are recent inmate profiles for this prison," the Descartes Spirit seemed to have no problem reading legal documents, "and they all have one thing in common... they are in the process of appealing."
It took several minutes for the Descartes Spirit to explain what the appeals process was to Bohemia.
"Why did you set aside these files separately? What does it mean?" It didn't sound like it was asking, more like it was preparing to answer its own question. Bohemia held her tongue and, as expected, it couldn't hold back any longer. "I've thought for a long time, and I've gone through your notebook, calendar... everywhere you can remember things, and I found a recurring pattern."
"A circle?" Bohemia blurted out.
The Descartes Spirit had just uttered one word, "Yes," when suddenly both the person and the spirit fell silent.
At the end of the corridor, near the stairs, there were footsteps slowly ascending, step by step.