Infinite Murder Mystery Game: The Beauty with a Delicate Palm

DM turned his head, his eyes behind the mask fixed on Su Mian.

Su Mian quickly looked away and adjusted her breathing.

Persona, persona.

She reminded herself.

"Hmm, how are you feeling today... Cisheng?"

Su Mian searched the script in her mind and found the name: Wen Cisheng, which was DM's name in this instance.

Seeing Si Shi nod, she knew she had guessed correctly and breathed a sigh of relief.

Simply cramming the script into your head is a crude method, but it does effectively avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble.

"Not good."

Wen Cisheng's voice dropped several octaves. He turned his head, his tone tinged with displeasure.

"You didn't come to see me today."

Su Mian's heart raced even faster; she knew she needed to think about how to respond.

But her eyes were glued to the man's collarbone, unable to look away, and a strange idea popped into her head.

What beautiful bones.

wrong.

Su Mian shook her head. What was she thinking? It was so strange.

She suppressed an inexplicable impulse, blinked her moist eyes, and said, "I'm sorry, Cisheng, I've been too busy today."

Wen Cisheng did not respond to the "sorry," or perhaps he simply did not want to forgive.

He still liked looking at her, or more accurately, he liked "gazing" at her, just like before.

Su Mian escaped this suspended sentence only when the elevator doors opened.

She walked toward her department according to her memory, followed by a "dangerous person." Many people avoided her when they saw him, and even the voices that greeted Su Mian were much quieter.

Su Mian became increasingly curious about his identity.

It's one thing for players to be afraid of a mentally ill patient, but why are patients and nurses also afraid of him?

The two entered Qingci's office together.

"Director Xiao Ci."

He called again, his voice brushing against her earlobe. Su Mian trembled all over. She didn't understand what magic those four words had that made her feel so strange.

They were probably being too intimate.

Who would address their attending physician in this way?

"What's wrong, Cisheng?"

"You haven't asked me any of your routine questions today."

seems like it.

Su Mian's script did indeed contain this item. Relying on her memory, she opened the drawer and found Wen Cisheng's file.

Antisocial personality disorder.

I don't know much about sleep deprivation, but I roughly know what it is. It is something that is not bound by social and moral constraints and can do things outside of legal restrictions.

She usually only sees it in the news.

As Su Mian pondered, a stack of A4 papers fell out of the file.

Routine inquiry records.

Wen Cisheng was very patient. He sat down and rested his hands on the desk, waiting quietly. He was so docile that he hardly seemed like someone with antisocial personality disorder.

Su Mian frowned slightly upon seeing these questions. Would questions designed for ordinary mental patients really be useful to him?

Are you happy today?

"I'm unhappy because Director Xiao Ci didn't contact me today."

How's your appetite?

"It's fine, but the guy sitting next to me hasn't showered for days, and he smells a bit nauseating. Otherwise, everything is great."

Are you feeling tired?

"I never feel tired."

Did you have any arguments with anyone today?

Su Mian asked the first few questions with a blank expression, and Wen Cisheng answered them quickly.

As soon as she asked the question, she suddenly realized that the person in front of her had fallen silent.

Su Mian looked up and felt a gaze from behind the mask staring at her with a "half-smile."

"Director Xiao Ci."

"You should ask me how many people I killed today."

Sleeping fits, breathing becomes sluggish, and the spine becomes stiff.

The person in front of her slowly tilted their head, took the form from Su Mian's hand, and revealed a record sheet that had been filled out a few days ago.

The fourth question was crossed out and replaced with "How many people did you kill today?"

A murder likely occurred after an argument, but an argument does not necessarily mean a murder.

A subtle word game.

It's clear that this was specifically designed to correct Wen Cisheng's personality disorder.

"Are you too tired today? How could you forget that this issue has already been corrected?"

broken.

She was too careless; she should have looked at the previous records first. Su Mian's heart clenched violently, and cold sweat broke out on her fingertips.

People who frequently deal with DM (Dr. Direct Medication) usually die very quickly.

That sentence echoed in her mind.

She was so careless. She had a subconscious feeling that something was wrong, but she still jumped into the trap. How could someone with antisocial personality disorder ask such questions?

She had thought of it, but failed to verify it in time, and Su Mian felt extremely guilty.

There's no "newbie protection period" anymore, what should she do?

The air fell silent for a moment, then Su Mian suddenly spoke, giving an answer that stunned Wen Cisheng.

"Am I going to die?"

Wen Cisheng looked down and found that the girl's eyes were clear, with a soft, drooping curve at the corners, revealing a sickly and weak appearance, but he did not see the fear he had expected.

On the contrary, she was very calm.

He knew what Su Mian was asking.

She went against her established persona; will he execute her?

But he was curious why she could ask such a direct question.

"Director Xiao Ci, what are you saying? I don't quite understand."

Su Mian lowered her eyes, her heart pounding as if it would jump out of her chest.

Of course she didn't want to die, but the thing that "went against her character" had already happened. She managed to escape with an excuse this time, but what about next time? And the time after that?

No one can stay conscious forever. She didn't want to put herself in this fear of death, tormented or killed. She needed a definite answer.

"When you asked that question, you knew you wouldn't die, right?"

After a moment of silence, he suddenly appeared behind her.

Startled, Su Mian stood up, her back hitting the cold wall.

"You're smart. You can tell I'm curious about you, and you can also tell I don't want to kill you."

"But you've already done it, haven't you?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the lights suddenly went out, plunging the whole world into darkness.

Su Mian's shoulder was suddenly tapped, and her knees went weak.

Something unexpected was happening; a warm breath lingered on her neck.

The soft strands of hair tickled her, and Su Mian began to tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her neck and shoulders, and she instinctively curled up.

"Hmm—"

Su Mian let out a low gasp, her fingers instinctively gripping the man's clothes, and the man in front of her subtly loosened his grip.

Breathes mingled in the air as Wen Cisheng lowered his eyes, staring at the red mark that had appeared without any force being applied.

Is pain more frightening than death?

……

"never mind."

She heard a barely perceptible sigh, and a subtle, almost imperceptible aggression.

"But next time I'll bite your shoulder through."

The light flickered twice and then came back on. Su Mian's legs went weak, and she leaned on the table for support. When she looked up, the hour of Si (9-11 AM) had already disappeared.

Her shoulder was still throbbing slightly. Su Mian exhaled, and her pale face gradually returned to normal.

She put away the report with a blank expression, but her heart was still pounding.