Chapter 9

The police arrived faster than expected, in just twenty minutes.

During those twenty minutes, Barton helped Mrs. Carroll up and took her to the living room to rest; Henderson, the butler, was carried back to his room, and Aunt Oliver was taking care of him since he hadn't fully recovered yet; Jack and Powell returned to the scene of the crime soon after carrying Henderson away. However, Brother Jue was still strictly guarding the door, not letting anyone in, including himself. Even Mr. Coulston, who rushed over after hearing the news, couldn't get past Feng Bujue.

This head of the family was indeed extraordinary. Although he was very emotional when he arrived, when Feng Bujue explained the reasons for preventing everyone from entering the scene, Coulston quickly calmed down and affirmed Brother Jue's approach.

As a police car with sirens blaring stopped in front of the villa, the system prompt rang in Feng Bujue's ears. His mission was updated to: [Assist the police in conducting the investigation]

Barton answered the door and led several police officers to the door of the room where the crime occurred.

At this time, there were five people waiting in the corridor, in addition to Feng Bujue, there was Mr. Coulston, Mrs. Odette, Master Jack, and Dr. Powell.

Three police officers followed behind Barton. The lead detective was dressed in a suit, wearing a bowler hat, and his leather shoes were shiny. He looked about fifty years old, slightly overweight, with a well-trimmed goatee, and gave off a shrewd and capable feeling.

The other two police officers were younger, one of whom even had a baby face, looking like a recent graduate. They were both in uniform, and the style... looked a lot like the British black police uniform of the 1980s, but with some differences in the details. After all, this was a fictional country, and such differences were understandable.

"I'm Detective Schofield," the plainclothes detective said as he walked up to the crowd. "Which one of you is Mr. Lovecraft?"

Coulston stepped forward a few steps, leaning on his cane, and said, "I am Coulston Lovecraft, the owner of the villa..." He paused. "The father of the deceased..."

Schofield met Coulston's sharp gaze for a few seconds, not concealing his suspicion. A detective like him had long developed a professional habit, and he was better at dealing with "people" and finding breakthroughs in interrogations than finding evidence.

"So... where's the body?" Schofield asked.

"In that room," Coulston pointed to the door beside Feng Bujue.

"Okay, excuse me," Schofield said, and winked at the two men behind him, signaling them to follow.

When the three of them walked to the door, Feng Bujue moved out of the way.

Schofield sized Brother Jue up and down as he passed him, but didn't pay much attention and turned his attention to the door.

"Hmm?" Schofield hesitated slightly when he saw the key still in the lock. He tried to turn the doorknob and found that the door was not locked. Two seconds later, he saw the body on the sofa chair behind the open door.

"Has anyone moved the body?" Schofield asked, turning his head without immediately entering the room.

"No," Jack answered from the side. "After Carroll found the body, the room has remained as it was."

"You are?" Schofield asked.

"My name is Jack," Jack replied, gesturing towards the body with his chin. "The man sitting there is my brother, Dennis." He paused and added, "Carroll is Dennis's wife, she's in the living room now."

Schofield stared at Jack for a few seconds, then looked back at the room. "Did you tell everyone not to go in?"

"No, he did," Jack pointed to Feng Bujue.

Schofield turned around, but before he could speak, Brother Jue interjected, "Hello, officer, my name is Feng Bujue."

"Feng..." Schofield's expression changed when he heard the name. He widened his eyes and sized Feng Bujue up and down again. "What? Did you say your name is Feng Bujue?"

From the tone of the other party's question, Brother Jue vaguely felt that this policeman had heard his name before. Thinking of the setting in the script introduction, he tentatively replied, "Yes, Feng Bujue, I am a detective."

"Oh! Is it really you!" Schofield suddenly raised his voice. He stared at Brother Jue's face for a few more times, as if he had confirmed something, before continuing, "No wonder you looked familiar, now I remember, I've seen you in the newspaper! You are the famous detective Feng Bujue!"

"Hmm... I see... No matter what name I tell the NPCs, the system will default that the character I'm playing has this name, right..." Feng Bujue thought to himself, "Speaking of which... I really am a 'famous' detective. Even the police in a place like this have heard of my name, which means I'm quite famous, basically on par with Hercule Poirot (the Belgian detective in Agatha Christie's novels. Unlike a certain self-obsessed narcissist living in London, Poirot is set to be a very famous detective, with many of his cases covered by the media and his name known to the public. It is worth mentioning that in the work *The Labors of Hercules*, the author vaguely hinted that in 1864, the Holmes family visited the Poirot family during their second trip to the European continent. This should also be a tribute to Conan Doyle by Christie, everyone loves narcissists.)..."

"Ah, that's right, that's me," Feng Bujue replied with a calm and unfathomable expression on the surface.

"Oh! I was wondering why an ordinary person would know how to protect the scene," Schofield said. "It turns out it's because you're here!"

At this time, the faces of the Lovecraft family members all showed very complicated expressions. These expressions had two meanings: first, surprise, they didn't expect that this guy in front of them was really a famous detective. Second, guilt... Because people with secrets don't really want to deal with people who specialize in revealing secrets.

"Oh! That's great!" Schofield continued. "Please be sure to give us some guidance, with you here, I think the case will be solved soon."

"Heh... hehe... I'll do my best," Feng Bujue said with a dry laugh, muttering in his heart, "Although I'm quite confident in my reasoning ability, is it really good for the case to be solved quickly...?

This is only Chapter 9, if the case is solved within five chapters, the remaining twenty chapters can only let the readers watch the author roll out gibberish with their face on the keyboard...

Speaking of which, your name is five words long, plus the surname Lovecraft, which is six words long, appears frequently, and the long note above is a despicable means of secretly lengthening the word count... The effect of this kind of bottom-line-breaking method is actually negligible...

Sure enough, to last until Chapter 33, I still have to rely on my own strength!"