The Gods Are Fighting Over Me - Chapter 19

The heavy rain outside had just stopped, and the chill crept through the glass and into the room.

Not long after the chef’s body was taken away, the second murder case followed.

This time, the victim was the waitress who had been running back and forth in the restaurant, constantly apologizing. She had been stabbed several times and was found sitting against a wall in a pool of bl00d, her eyes wide open and lifeless.

Lin Jianyue wasn’t the first to find her this time, and she didn’t dare get close. She only glanced from a distance.

Bl00d from an artery was splattered everywhere. The dead waitress was slumped in the center of the bloody mess, like a blooming flower of human bl00d.

The boundless night and the waves crashing on the island cut off the possibility of the murderer escaping and blocked any outside help from arriving.

Over the phone, Inspector Megure’s voice came through, sounding a little helpless. “The weather is too bad. The waves are too high. We’ll have to wait until sunrise to set off. You must be careful.”

The classic isolated manor trope.

The murderer and the victims were trapped in a small area, where a game of investigation and slaughter would take place.

Conan Edogawa pushed up his glasses and stood in the middle of the lounge. His voice was much calmer than that of his peers. “I suggest everyone stay together. That way, we can protect and monitor each other to prevent the murderer from striking again.”

Jinpei Matsuda offered no opinion. He leaned against the door, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. His fingers were moving quickly on the screen, as if he were messaging someone.

Lin Jianyue sat alone at a table, propping her head up, feeling drowsy.

But not everyone bought into Conan’s plan.

“Why should we listen to you?” A man with bright red streaks in his hair rolled up his sleeves and said aggressively. “What do you know, kid? Detectives don’t have the right to enforce the law!”

A few people next to him also agreed. They were making a fuss and were about to walk out the door. Not even Kogoro Mouri announcing his title as the “Sleeping Detective” could stop them.

Just as the red-streaked man was about to step out of the lounge, Jinpei Matsuda, who was leaning against the door, suddenly moved.

He lifted his leg and stomped it on the opposite doorframe with a loud thump. His movements were as fast as a shadow, blocking everyone’s path.

“Jinpei Matsuda, Senior Inspector of the Metropolitan Police Department,” he said, showing his police ID. The photo on the ID showed a sharp look in his eyes, identical to his current expression. “I appreciate your cooperation with the investigation.”

The red-streaked man stuck his neck out and yelled, “So what if you’re a police officer? Do you have a search warrant? What gives you the right to restrict our freedom?”

Jinpei Matsuda scoffed and curved the corners of his mouth. “You need a search warrant for a home inspection. This is a murder investigation. It’s a citizen’s duty to cooperate with the police.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable sense of authority.

Lin Jianyue was no longer in the mood to listen to their argument. She rested her head on her arms on the table, her cheek against the slightly cool wooden surface, and was suddenly overcome with a strong sense of regret.

She shouldn’t have given in to her playful side.

She had stayed up all night for a few days to finish her drafts. Before boarding the boat, she had been considering going straight to her room to sleep after checking in and letting Jinpei Matsuda explore on his own.

But after getting on the island, she was captivated by the novel scenery and then drawn in by topics related to Kenji Hagiwara. She was so engrossed that she completely forgot about sleeping. She figured she could just catch up on sleep tomorrow.

But after the chef’s bloated corpse appeared inches from her face in the private screening room, her temples were now throbbing, and her eyelids felt too heavy to lift.

Lin Jianyue closed her eyes wearily, but just a few seconds later, she opened them in a startled manner.

As soon as she closed her eyes, the chef’s swollen, purplish face would appear in front of her. His eyes, which had turned cloudy and gray, stared at her as he hung from a rope.

Sure enough, I’m not cut out to be the protagonist.

In the fanfiction she usually read, the protagonists were incredibly calm when they encountered a corpse. Some were even smart enough to join Conan and become a part of Tokyo’s think tank, meticulously unraveling the truth.

There were even some intelligent transmigrators who could manipulate the protagonists like puppets. But she was not like that at all.

Lin Jianyue’s eyelashes trembled as she looked at Conan in the distance. The real protagonist of the story was currently squatting on the floor, frowning at a mark on the carpet, deep in thought.

She had no interest in the Red vs. Black showdown, or in deduction and intellectual battles. She just wanted to befriend the little detective so she could meet the powerful people behind him and become a millionaire illustrator as soon as possible.

This was probably as far as her ambition went. She was hopelessly realistic.

But as long as she remained friends with Conan, she would keep encountering all sorts of murder cases.

Lin Jianyue rubbed her forehead on her arm in discomfort, her eyelids half-closed. Conan’s thoughtful expression was reflected in her misty eyes.

The only silver lining was that most of the cases that gave people childhood trauma happened in the early days. In the later part of the series, people would die more “happily,” not like in the early days of the manga, where bl00d was splattered all over the walls like a squashed tomato.

As long as she got through the first few months, everything would be fine.

Lin Jianyue sat up and unconsciously opened Kenji Hagiwara’s chat window, but her fingers hovered over the text box, not knowing what to say.

Do you believe me if I told you that he’d jump into the sea and swim over here to find you?

Lin Jianyue lowered her eyelids, and her fingers trembled as she sent a dry message: ‘What are you doing?’

She wanted comfort.

But she couldn’t bring herself to ask for it.

But there was no reply from the other end. The chat window was eerily silent. Lin Jianyue’s lips trembled, and her heart suddenly felt tight. She couldn’t tell if it was from feeling wronged or something else.

“Jianyue-san?” Ran’s voice sounded beside her, light and worried. “You look pale. Are you okay?”

Lin Jianyue shook her head and gave a faint smile. “I’m fine.”

Jinpei Matsuda also walked over with big strides. His large hand briefly rested on her forehead and then quickly pulled away. He frowned. “Are you okay? I’m going to investigate the case soon, so I might not be able to keep an eye on you.”

“It’s okay,” Lin Jianyue said, placing her hand on her own forehead. “I don’t have a fever. I’m just tired and a little shaken up. I’ll be fine after a nap.”

Just as Jinpei Matsuda was about to say something else, a sharp scream suddenly came from outside, filled with panic, puncturing a hole in the morbid atmosphere.

Conan and Kogoro Mouri almost jumped up at the same time and rushed out first. Jinpei Matsuda’s face instantly darkened. He gave Ran a few instructions and then ran out after them.

At this moment, Lin Jianyue slowly stood up and said to Ran, “Ran, I want to go back to my room for a bit.”

“But…” Ran hesitated.

“I’ll be right back after I grab a blanket,” Lin Jianyue said with a smile, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “It’s a little cold in here.”

Ran only hesitated for a second before making a decision. “I’ll go with you. Officer Matsuda asked me to stay with you as much as possible.”

She paused, then added thoughtfully, “If you’re tired, you can go back to your room and get some sleep. I’ll stay here and watch over you.”

Lin Jianyue didn’t object anymore. She and Ran Mouri slowly walked toward the elevator. Their reflections showed up in the mirror. One was worried, and the other was exhausted, and both of them looked pale.

When they got back to the room, it started to rain again, pattering against the glass as if someone was gently knocking. Ran sat at the desk by the window, occasionally looking outside, her fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the hem of her clothes.

Lin Jianyue was curled up on the bed, holding her phone on her side. The screen was still on her chat with Kenji Hagiwara.

The message still had no reply.

Her eyelashes trembled. Lin Jianyue turned off the screen, pulled the blanket up, and closed her eyes.

Later that night, Lin Jianyue developed a low-grade fever. She felt sluggish, and her bones ached with fatigue.

In her half-asleep state, she felt someone touch her forehead with the back of their hand. Their fingertips were cool, as if they had just come in from outside.

A damp, salty air filled the space by the bed. It was as if a sea ghost had crawled out of the waves, dragging the damp air with it as it stood by her bed.

Someone was speaking. Their voice was like it was soaked in warm water, coming and going, muffled by a layer of cotton. She couldn’t hear it clearly.

“Rumble.“

A loud thunderclap suddenly boomed outside the window. The dark sky instantly lit up as if it were daytime.

Lin Jianyue opened her eyes. In the brief flash of light, she saw a blurry figure sitting on the edge of the bed. The person was a silhouette against the light, their features unreadable. She could only make out a white porcelain bowl with steam rising from it in their hands. The moment the light illuminated the water stains on the floor, they reflected a faint light.

“Kenji?” Her voice was hoarse from sleep.

The person scooped a spoonful of whatever was in the bowl, gently blew on it, and held it to her lips. Their voice was low. “Can you sit up? Drink some medicine.”

When she opened her eyes again, it was four in the morning. The room was empty and filled with only darkness and the sound of her own breathing.

Lin Jianyue reached for the lamp on the nightstand, but there was no response. She threw off the blanket and got out of bed, using her phone’s flashlight.

The windows were tightly shut. The chair was neatly placed in front of the desk. The floor was so clean it looked like no one had ever been there. There were no water stains.

She must have been delirious from the fever. She let out a bitter laugh.

The lights on the wall didn’t work, and the hallway was also pitch black. It seemed the power was out.

Lin Jianyue took out the manga book she had tucked under her pillow and flipped through two pages with her phone’s flashlight. Tonight’s case seemed to be related to a cold case that had happened on the island twenty years ago. In the latest panel, a cold glint flashed behind Conan, and the corner of his mouth curved into a confident smile, as if he had figured out the truth.

According to the plot, this should be the end of the case.

Lin Jianyue swallowed. Her throat was so dry it felt like it had been rubbed with sand.

She stared at the pitch-black hallway. After a long moment of hesitation, she slowly started walking, following her memory toward the stairwell.

Using her phone’s light, she stumbled to the stove and, by memory, found the gas switch. With a click, a blue flame licked the bottom of the kettle, illuminating her face, which had finally regained some color.

While the water was boiling, Lin Jianyue glanced at her phone again. The chat window was empty. The message she had sent was still lost in a sea of silence.

Lin Jianyue lowered her eyes, unable to decipher her feelings.

The water in the kettle began to boil. White steam rose, blurring her vision and the perpetually gray profile picture on her screen.

Lin Jianyue poured half a bowl of hot water. She took it to the table, blew on it with a spoon, and drank in small sips.

The dark room was terrifyingly quiet, with only the sound of her own heartbeat and the occasional wind outside the window.

After drinking the last sip of water, she sent a message to Jinpei Matsuda: ‘I’m awake. I’m in the kitchen. Where are you?’

Matsuda’s reply came almost instantly, surprising her. The screen lit up with just four short words:

‘Run. Get out of the kitchen.’

Lin Jianyue’s pupils contracted. Just as she was about to stand up, the wooden floor outside the door began to creak. The sound went from far away to near, getting louder and louder.

It was as if someone was tiptoeing, step by step, toward her.