Infinite Murder Mystery Game: The Beauty with a Delicate Palm

This feather was originally blood red.

Su Mian stood there stunned for a long time before picking it up. The photo frame reflected her moist pupils and tightly pursed lips.

She forced a stiff smile, an expression she didn't often make, which made it look somewhat awkward and comical.

But she still wanted to laugh, laughing until her nose stung and tears streamed down her face.

She knew that Si Shi was watching, but she didn't deliberately hide her expression.

Su Mian knew he liked to see her smile, in every sense of the word, as a return gift from Feather.

"Hey?! Evelyn, you weren't there for the whole celebration party. Are you still feeling unwell?"

Just as the players were about to leave the palace, they spotted Su Mian in the garden and rushed over. Su Mian quickly wiped away her tears and pretended that nothing had happened.

"I'm fine, I just don't like crowded places."

Adele smiled and nodded, taking her arm. "Tiffany just went to apologize to you, but I haven't seen her."

Bruce: "I don't know. I saw her come back a few minutes later, and her face was suspiciously red."

"Ah...did I stumble upon something? Oh well, it's not important anymore."

Adele waved her hand, and Duncan rushed over and put his arms around Charlie and Adrian's shoulders.

"The Governor-General is going to award you with merit medals. When are you going to collect them? You're all heroes!"

Charlie slapped him away disdainfully, "I know, I know, you have one too, don't you?"

"Mine isn't as impressive as yours. I can brag about it in the game for ages, like I became the savior of a medieval dungeon, hahaha."

Adrian smiled silently and looked at Su Mian.

"Have you received your merit award, Your Majesty?"

Su Mian sighed, somewhat amused and exasperated by the form of address, but ultimately simply shook her head. "It's not necessary."

She tucked the photo frame into her sleeve.

"I already have one."

(Complete Dungeon 3)

–This world recap is told from Cecily's perspective.

*

My name is Cecily. I am not a hero, but just a failed idealist and a clumsy redeemer.

My story is full of holes, hesitations, and unfinished sentences.

I was once the daughter of Lord Tarren, and later became a saint of the city-state of Vebens.

The Taren and the Vebens have been at war for many years. The Vebens have seized countless territories from us and taken the lives of countless people of our race.

Year after year of war, year after year of defeat. I don't understand the supreme glory that victory in war brings. I only know that the people and the land suffer unbearable sins.

In addition, a plague broke out, and putrefactive disease, like the claws of death, reached out to the already barren borders.

The father took advantage of this to smuggle people infected with the plague and grain stained with black blood to Vibens.

The way border villagers died is now being reenacted in the small town of Wibens.

I couldn't sleep all night, unable to believe that my father wanted to achieve success through such means. War never ends, and there is no breathing room between life and death.

Someone has to step in and stop it; maybe that person will be me?

And so, I began my naive and ridiculous plan.

I copied the format of those imperial edicts and forged a ceasefire agreement. I sneaked into my father's room at night and used his fingerprints and seal.

I told my father I wanted to study elsewhere, but in reality, I used a stolen seal and a forged pass to cross the ocean among the pilgrims.

I helped bandage festering wounds at the local almshouse, listening to the death knell toll seven times a day, and never asked for a penny.

The people of Vebens say I am "an angel of unknown origin".

Perhaps Heaven saw my wish, and after the old saintess died, I succeeded her.

Just then, Sera and Ollie, who had taken care of me since I was a child, found me. I was shocked, but they didn't seem to have discovered the forged agreement. They just said that my father had sent them to take care of me, and I chose to believe them.

Later, I volunteered to go to the Anvil Fortress with the bishop to participate in the purification ceremony. I wanted to let the people of Vebens know that the plague was not caused by any "stillborn baby legend".

When Bishop Cain first called me into his study, I knew he had already seen through my identity.

His eyes were like a deep sea shrouded in mist, with unfathomable whirlpools beneath the calm surface.

But the bishop said nothing and tacitly approved of my actions. The night before the purification ceremony, I was so nervous and excited that I went for a walk by the river and happened to run into him.

I didn't expect him to speak to me. He asked, "If you were to leave this world one day, have you ever thought about who would take your place?"

I didn't understand at the time.

I thought he was asking me who should take over the duties of the saintess.

Looking back now, he was probably asking, if I die, who will stop the war, who will be the destined savior?

I was unable to answer him.

Because my mind is filled with tomorrow's ceremony, and with the truce agreement in my arms, stamped with my father's seal, which I can never publicly present as the daughter of Lord Taren.

I imagined it unfolding on the parliamentary table, and I imagined even the slightest hint of wavering on the faces of those arrogant nobles.

But I never made it that far.

As the boulder fell, I remembered what the nun had told me.

"Aren't you afraid that you might become the next ghost?"

I thought I would be scared, but I wasn't. Instead, a deep sense of regret washed over me like a tide.

It's a pity the agreement hasn't been sent out yet, and it's a pity I couldn't see for myself what the lavender fields at Mill Ferry would look like in peacetime.

It's a pity I can never return to that hometown I betrayed, yet loved so deeply.

What happened next was what I, in my dead state, saw while wandering in the hazy sky.

The audacious nun Evelyn suddenly found me in the church's secret room and discovered my identity.

When she saw that realistic oil painting that I had casually commissioned someone to paint, she seemed to understand, and so did I.

It turned out that the falling boulder was not a punishment from God, but a command from the father.

He had his two servants tamper with the mine, turning the originally smooth rocks into the shape of a dead infant, causing the boulder to fall shortly after the horn was sounded.

Sera even disguised herself as me with a human skin mask so that the people of Taren would believe that I was really just going abroad to study.

It's ridiculous.

This bloody game of chess was orchestrated by my father.

Fortunately, the nun named Evelyn, or perhaps the devil, is indeed getting closer to the truth step by step.

She joined forces with Duke Hill to uncover the secret of the holy water and debunk the myth of the stillborn baby.

She rode the legendary immortal horse into the battlefield, and shot the parchment scroll, which was imbued with my despair and hope, at the ship that should have been the center of the carnage.

Who will succeed me?

I can finally answer now.

Countless people.

everyone.

Everyone who longs for peace.

Plague knows no nationality, and suffering knows no boundaries.

We are all trapped in the same fear.

Fear of each other, of the unknown, of losing what we love.

And the hatred born of fear is killing us all.

My story has ended, but the truth has finally begun its journey.

Like the projections in the Anvil Fortress mine, the light never disappeared; it just needed to find the right angle to shine where it was meant to go.

My name is Cecily.

I have lied, and I have sought the truth.

I died from a falling rock.

I live among all those who refuse to let hatred crush their lives.

—Cecily von Taren, her last thoughts before losing consciousness