Be the god of death in the world of famous detectives

Chapter 207 Hatred transfer.avi
At this time, several other people have sorted out the numbers from "two" to "eight" in their names, but they are still skeptical about Mumu's statement.

Koyamauchi Nana leaned against the back of the chair, crossed her arms, and her voice was much louder than usual:
"I have never met Mr. Murakami, and it's the first time I've met this uncle detective! Besides, there are so many people named Nana, why should he follow me!"

"Calm down, didn't the police officer say it? It's all speculation." Peter Ford comforted her with a broad palm.

The foreigner spoke English-style Japanese, and said in a rap-like rhythm, "By the way, my situation is the same. I don't know Jo Murakami, and I haven't had any contact with Mr. Mori Kogoro before today."

"Really..." Mumu Police Department was a little confused. If all four of them were like this, then the numbers in their names might really be just a coincidence.

He couldn't help but look at the remaining two freelancers, "The same for you?"

The two shook their heads at the same time.

Nishina Minoru frowned slightly, trying to recall, "I interviewed Murakami before he went to prison, and published a short article about him. As for whether he praised him or scolded him at that time... I really can't remember. .”

He couldn't remember what he was talking about at that time, and he couldn't reverse his thoughts—ten years was enough to make a person's brain circuit completely different from before. I also wrote a lot of things that go against my heart.

"I've seen Murakami as well." Shishido pushed his sunglasses, "I took portraits of a group of murderers a few years ago, and Murakami was among the people I took. His appearance is quite impressive. Profound."

After a pause, he leaned back in the chair again, and added with a confident face, "Of course, I took a good picture of him. It's impossible for him to seek revenge from me because he didn't take a good picture."

"Well... I understand." Mumu Police Department murmured, but his heart was still foggy.

To say that these four people have nothing to do with the case, this neat string of names is really a coincidence.

But to say that there is a relationship, the relationship is too weak, and the difference from "eight" to "thirteen" is that, except for Mao Li himself and Shiratori Ren Saburo, the others have little friendship with Mao Li Kogoro.

After thinking about it for a long time, I couldn't come up with an answer. In the end, Mu Mu could only use an old saying to convince his teammates and himself:

"We can't figure out the mind of the murderer. Some people are even hated and torn to pieces just because they glanced at the prisoner when they passed by..."

Hearing this, Nana Koyamauchi's expression suddenly turned ugly.

She is really a person of no city, and soon her temples are sweating, her lips are tightly pursed, and her hands are put on her nose, as if she is afraid that others will not see that she is nervous.

When the door panel raised its head to kill a bottle of fruit wine and put the empty soda can beside it, its eyes stopped on Nana Koyama for a few seconds.

This bird, which also has no city status, quickly saw what humans were worried about. It squinted its eyes, slapped the table habitually, and opened its mouth to make her explain quickly.

The others were taken aback by its movement, and turned their heads to look at him. Only then did the door panel slowly remember someone's warning. He opened his mouth, "You..." After a few seconds, he insisted on Facing everyone's suspicious eyes, he turned a corner and said in a calm and gentle voice, "...Did you remember something?"

Koyamauchi Nana bit her nails and asked instead of answering, "You said earlier that Murakami was released from prison eight days ago?"

"Yes." Mu Mu nodded.

"Sure?"

"Of course." Megure Police Department began to wonder why she asked this.

After repeated confirmation, Koyamauchi Nana breathed a sigh of relief visibly, she relaxed, leaned back slowly on the chair back, and tapped the armrest twice with her fingers, "Then it has nothing to do with me."

Looking around, she found that everyone was looking at her. Nana Koyama frowned and said, "Why are you all looking at me? I can't even ask a question?"

Nishina Minoru claims to be a cultural person, and he is not used to Nana Koyamauchi's sudden surprise, so he is also the first to express his doubts, "It's okay, but your reaction..."

crunch--

He had just uttered a few words, Koyama Uchi Nana kicked the stool away and stood up, stretching out her arms, her delicate nails almost hit his nose:

"By the way, you're the one who wrote the bad book "Paris Restaurant"! The restaurants recommended in it are worse than the last one. Have you ever eaten there? Or did you write it up against your conscience when you received the advertising fee? ?!"

Obviously, she was changing the subject.

But because the model sister was too imposing and the questions she asked were sharp enough, it really made Nishina Minoro unable to stop talking.

So the essay writer also took the case, "I did charge for the advertisement, but I only accepted it after I tasted it myself and thought it was delicious! You can question this, but you can't question my taste as a food writer!"

"Really? Then you have to show evidence, Mei~food~home~!", Koyamauchi Nana slowly recited the title with malicious intentions, bent down and took out a delicately packaged rectangular box from her bag:
"I've prepared a gift for Mr. Xu. Since he's not here now, I'll take advantage of you first—come on, try what kind of wine this is."

"...Do you want me to taste wine?" Nishina Minoru obviously hesitated, but he quickly took a deep breath, "Come on!"

Nana Koyama laughed, walked to another table with the packing box in her arms, opened the bottle with her back to them, poured the good wine into several goblets mysteriously, brought it back, and handed it to Nishina Minoru. "Try it."

The latter took it and tasted it decently. After taking a sip, he narrowed his eyes slightly and said in a very intoxicated tone, "This violet aroma and velvety smooth taste... It's Chamberlain."

"Tch..." Nana Koyama's lips twitched.

Seeing her expression, Nishina Minoru felt that something was wrong.

But the words were out of his mouth, so he could only continue on, "How is it? Am I right?"

Nana Koyama was about to laugh out loud.

But at this moment, someone suddenly interrupted, "Of course not, this is Pang Zhuo's windmill wine."

Both Xiaolan and Conan were startled, and turned their heads in the middle in surprise, only to find that Bai Shu had also touched a goblet at some point, which contained clear red wine.

He swirled the wine in the glass elegantly, then raised his hand, tilted his neck, and smothered it like dry beer.

"...", Sawaki Fairy's expression changed immediately, and he really wanted to slap him on the head with a word of chewing peony, but because he was not familiar with Bai Shu, he finally didn't say anything.

Xiaolan was afraid that Baishu would guess wrong, so she laughed and smoothed things over, "Brother Zhishu, are you drunk?"

It was Nana Koyama who answered, "No, this little brother is right!"

After a delay of a few seconds, she finally broke out into a long-prepared laugh. After laughing, she looked at Ren Sina, "What kind of gourmet is better than a layman."

This is undoubtedly the answer that agrees with the door panel.

So the bird took advantage of the situation and reservedly asked, "It's really good wine, can I have another glass?"

"Of course." Nana Koyama happily walked to the next table and handed him the whole bottle.

The process was different from what she thought, but she still used this game to attract everyone's attention, and Nana Koyamauchi was very satisfied with it.

Shishido has the biggest heart, and he has long forgotten her abnormality. He looked at the door panel and drank alcohol non-stop, so thirsty, he pulled the stool and stood up, "I'll go get some drinks too."

Conan originally wanted to grab a bottle from Bai Shu, but the other party didn't intend to share it with him, so he was slapped on the back of his hand mercilessly, and he withdrew his hand speechlessly, "I remember you don't drink so little?"

"What do you mean, you want to say that I'm drunk?" The door panel took out the phone and took a picture of his face through the screen. He didn't know how it could distinguish the color of his cheeks from the darkness. Anyway, after a glance, It put the phone back into its pocket, "You're not drunk!"

"...Then let me change the question." Conan asked with the corners of his eyes twitching while Xiaolan left to get a drink, "did you run into Murakami Takeshi by chance when you were searching just now, and then you were beaten to the head?"

(End of this chapter)