Red wine poisoning case 1.5
The cold light of the scalpel gleamed between Fan Jinci's fingers. As he cut open the butler's stomach, the tip of the scalpel touched a hard, undigested object.
It was a folded strip of paper, its edges yellowed from stomach acid, but the writing was still clear:
"The truth is the lie itself, forensic pathologist. Don't use your own eyes to see the truth."
The handwriting was sharp, exactly the same as on the invitation.
Situ Jin gasped: "This is... left behind by the manor owner?"
“Hmm,” Fan Jinci replied. His gaze swept over a hidden door in the corner of the dissection room—it should have been a wall, but now, a sliver of light shone through the crack in the door. He walked over and pushed the door open.
The room was small, with a sandalwood chessboard in the center, the black and white pieces arranged in a neat and orderly fashion, like an unfinished battle.
Beside the chessboard sat an oil lamp, its flickering light illuminating a line of small characters carved on the board:
"Win, and the truth will be revealed; lose, and you'll be trapped here forever."
Wen Lin peeked over and said, "Playing chess? This manor owner is quite cultured."
Li Weimian frowned: "This is no ordinary chess game." She pointed to the dark red stains on the edge of the chessboard, "It's blood."
Yu Yan's hand was already on his sidearm: "Brother Fan, don't touch this damn thing."
Fan Jinci ignored him. He sat down in front of the chessboard and lightly touched a black piece with his fingertips.
—It felt cold to the touch, like a dead person's fingernails.
Fan Jinci plays black, while the manor lord plays white.
The first step is for the black stone to land at the center (tengen).
The air on the chessboard seemed to freeze, and the flame of the oil lamp suddenly shot up, casting an eerie glow on the chess pieces.
"You like dissections because corpses don't lie."
A voice rang out in the room, as if it came from the depths of the chessboard, or as if it drilled directly into the mind.
Fan Jinci remained expressionless as he placed his pieces with lightning speed.
"But isn't a lie itself a kind of truth?"
The white piece falls, capturing three black pieces. Bloodstains begin to flow on the board, like tiny snakes, winding their way towards Fan Jinci's fingertips.
Situ Jin took a step back: "This...this isn't right..."
Li Weimian pressed down on his shoulder: "Don't disturb him."
Yu Yan pointed his gun at the chessboard, but Jiang Zhaoyan stopped him: "If you break the chessboard, we may never get out."
Fan Jinci's vision began to blur.
He saw the laboratory from twenty years ago, saw himself strapped to the dissection table, and saw a masked man holding up a syringe.
"M-0, you are the most perfect work."
Another white piece was placed, and the bloodstains on the chessboard coalesced into one word:
"Admit it, you enjoy killing."
Fan Jinci's fingertips paused slightly.
He recalled the feeling of holding a scalpel for the first time.
—Not fear, but control. The almost chilling satisfaction of seeing the blade slice through skin, of the truth revealed in flesh and blood…
The black stone landed with a "thud," cutting off the large white group.
“I don’t enjoy killing,” he said coldly. “I only pursue the truth.”
The chessboard trembled, and the white pieces shattered one after another.
As the last black piece fell, the bloodstains on the chessboard dried abruptly.
The moment the oil lamp went out, the hidden door clicked open, revealing a staircase leading underground.
Wen Lin's eyes widened: "...You won?"
Fan Jinci stood up, his sleeves dusty from the chessboard: "No, this is just the beginning."
At the end of the stairs, the sound of chains being dragged could be heard.
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