As his vision plunged into darkness, Fushimi Roku reacted instinctively. He swung his right hand fiercely, and the fruit knife shot like an arrow, aiming at the spot where Miyazaki Shizuka had stood, directly pointing at her throat—half a second later, Fushimi Roku realized that Minamoto Tamako was still beside him, and he was committing murder right in front of her.
But that wasn’t important.
What mattered was that he didn’t hear the sound of the fruit knife piercing the throat, instead he heard the sound of the knife tip stabbing into a wooden board.
If Nishino Fuyu hadn’t lied, then Miyazaki Shizuka was well-prepared—she surely knew what it meant for the police to search the Nishino siblings’ house, so she brought a sack and anesthetic gas.
Fushimi Roku didn’t intend to tangle with her too much. As long as there was a bit of light, allowing him to vaguely see the outline of Miyazaki Shizuka, he was confident he could incapacitate her within two seconds.
To avoid being held back by Minamoto Tamako, Fushimi Roku bent down to reach out and said, "Let’s go first..."
Before he finished speaking, he reached into empty air; Minamoto Tamako was no longer in her original position.
Simultaneously, familiar white noise emanated from the depths of darkness—the sound of rushing water, the rustling of wind swaying the treetops, a rhythmic tapping sound emerged, and again the familiar mutterings echoed in his ears. This text is hosted at NoveI-Fire.ɴet
For over a month, Fushimi Roku, in his sleep, would hear a vague murmuring in his dreams. He hadn’t taken it seriously, confusing it with the whispers from Angel and Kawai Demon.
Until now, the familiar murmur became clearer and louder, seemingly echoing from right by his ear, only then did he realize who the voice belonged to.
—It was Minamoto Tamako’s voice.
Her call echoed in his ears.
For a fleeting moment, Fushimi Roku felt as though he lost consciousness, yet simultaneously like he had just woken from a dream, his body losing and regaining sensation rapidly.
"Wake up... Hurry and wake up..."
The voice became clear, and he could distinctly hear what Minamoto Tamako was saying.
What wake up... Haven’t I been awake all along?
Fushimi Roku was bewildered, wanting to blink, he then realized he seemed to be laying on the table, resting his head on his arm, with his eyes not open.
"Teacher Fushimi... Stop sleeping..."
Fushimi Roku’s consciousness gradually gathered, detecting something unusual. Minamoto Tamako’s voice became oddly peculiar, softer than ever, like a cute girl’s voice in a children’s animated show.
Following this, he noticed someone was pushing his arm, not very forcefully but at a high frequency, indicating the other party’s anxiety.
Fushimi Roku opened his eyes, slowly raised his head, and before him was a six- to seven-year-old little girl, appearing as if sculpted from porcelain, with large, spirited eyes. A tuft of oval-shaped hair stood atop her head, dressed in a national elementary school uniform, looking exceedingly adorable.
Fushimi Roku ignored the girl’s pleading look, glanced around, realizing he was in a bedroom, with a pink bed and wallpaper, stuffed toys on the desk, and a shelf lined with various detective mystery novels.
Fushimi Roku scratched his chin, contemplating briefly. He was wide awake now; even with a casual guess, he should know that he must have been hypnotized.
... When exactly was I hypnotized?
Was it after entering the basement?
Or did it happen in the yard?
It should’ve been after entering the basement; if it was in the yard, Miyazaki Shizuka wouldn’t have let him inspect the car window.
Fushimi Roku estimated inwardly, from when he leapt into the basement until the instant the lights went out, it all totaled to less than ten seconds... Hypnotizing a wary adult within ten seconds was even more outrageous than Arima Toshio.
Is the level 8 hypnotism really this exaggerated?
Fushimi Roku felt skeptical, suspecting Miyazaki Shizuka had tampered with his brain during hypnotic therapy—up to this very moment, he was still troubled by the last hypnotic session.
It’s possible that during that time, Miyazaki Shizuka planted some ’suggestion’ instructions in him; then when he jumped into the basement, Miyazaki Shizuka directly triggered the suggestion instructions in his brain, causing him to fall asleep so quickly.
While Fushimi Roku pondered, his gaze inadvertently fell on the photo frame on the desk, inside was a family photo: the husband looked pale and seemed to be in poor health, with a serene smile on his face; the wife was tall with an outstanding aura, but had a stern expression, appearing troubled; the daughter stood between the two, timidly making a peace sign at the camera.
He recognized the wife in the photo, it should be Kujo Yua... She looked very young, probably in her twenties, her face unblemished by time, full of collagen, not yet with that later world-weary look, with a tinge of a young woman’s charm.
By this deduction, the little kid before him must be Minamoto Tamako’s younger self?
Fushimi Roku harbored mischievous thoughts as he scrutinized the juvenile version of Minamoto Tamako, realizing the elementary school-age Minamoto Tamako sported a watermelon-style haircut, with a bud of hair already forming atop her head... However, it was unclear if this image was his imagination or truly how Minamoto Tamako looked as a child.
He coughed lightly and asked, "What’s the matter?"
Little Tamako stood beside him, bowing her head and fidgeting with her fingers, nervously tapping her toes to and fro: "Mommy will be back soon... But I haven’t finished my homework yet..."
The contrast between little Tamako and Captain Tamako was enormous, Fushimi Roku’s wicked thoughts grew stronger. He coughed lightly, put on a serious face, and said, "Let’s not talk about those things, Tamako-chan, want to see a magic trick?"