[TN: Suuan “kou” as a pun for Connan [1].]
Suuankou stood up slowly, silently staring at the scene before him.
The humming mill looked like the gaping mouth of a monster.
The surrounding air seemed to stagnate here.
Obviously, there was no “sun” as the primary light source in the underground world. Instead, the crystal wall dome shone for 24 hours, and there was no difference between morning and night.
However, Suuankou inexplicably felt the air of [Dusk] coming from around him.
Even though he did not know what the air of [Dusk] was, his intuition was telling him so, warning him urgently.
—Don’t go in.
Fear seemed to have liquified, seeping in through his pores. He felt the blood vessels in his forehead and temples pulsating fanatically due to this inexplicable tension.
—I have to flee.
In a trance, Suuankou felt the air around him become sticky and sweet.
The world before him instantly turned into a black-and-red sketch and reverted to its original state immediately after.
Even the bullet text in front of Suuankou’s eyes disappeared.
It was like playing a horror game with friends, but the world suddenly fell silent after some walking and came to a critical moment.
After turning around, the player would notice the room was empty at some point.
It was much scarier than playing alone since the beginning!
“…Ah.” Suuankou muttered, “Did I wake up from a dream… or did I enter a dream?”
—Motherfucker.
Suuankou’s lips moved slightly. He gritted his teeth hard and cursed silently.
Then, he gradually sank his face and looked seriously at the mill with its wide open door.
“Excuse me, is anyone there?” Suuankou yelled at the door.
However, there was no response.
—Indeed, there should be no response.
Suuankou approached the door slowly and entered.
But the next moment, the door behind him suddenly made a loud “squeak” and closed with a slam!
“It’s the same old pattern.” Suuankou commented with a calm expression, “I have anticipated that.”
He stopped at the door and looked around.
There was a peculiar smell in this massive mill. Suuankou tried to identify it, which seemed to be the mushrooms’ smell.
That’s right.
This mill was formerly called the Black Mushroom Mill.
Suuankou learned from Nieusel that the black mushroom was a strange mushroom unique to the underground world.
It was a lowly mushroom without needing to care for them. It could survive in dead wood but had to live in a dark environment. Since it appeared entirely black, it was called a black mushroom.
With just a little blood or feces, the mushroom would multiply and occupy the growing space of other mushrooms with incomparable strength, causing the other mushrooms to die and become nourishment.
That was right. It was a “fungus that could digest fungi”. Therefore, there was no need to look after them at all, and there was no need to worry about the growth of bacteria.
The value of this mushroom was that after it was dried and ground into powder, it would become a food that was rich in nutrition and could be stored for a long time.
Its status in the underground world was equivalent to that of wheat.
The powder produced by black mushrooms was equivalent to “flour”.
Almost all the larger underground cities would have their own Black Mushroom Mill. Its production did not shy away from cities with imports from other cities, even though it was not necessary.
That was because the cost of black mushrooms was low, and no cultivation techniques were required.
Black mushrooms ground into powder without being dried could be produced into new black mushrooms when sprinkled on rotten wood. The mill’s work was to constantly replace the dead wood, scrape off the grown black mushrooms, dry and grind the powder. Only two or three people were needed to handle the tasks above.
The task of “replacing wood” and “drying black mushrooms” had to be done at the same time; On the other hand, the “grinding” task did not require manual labor. Of course, it was not a traditional windmill doing the job but a steam engine.
The humming could be heard even from outside, which meant the mill was still operating.
But there was no one in this place at all.
Not to mention the sound of conversation, not even the sound of footsteps could be heard.
“What’s this…” Suuankou suddenly noticed a sharp detail.
A shovel was lying upside down by the hall’s corner on the first floor.
The tip of the shovel was bloodstained, dried, and brownish. On the ground nearby, there were still spots of blood.
However, Suuankou did not understand the relevant knowledge of forensic science and could not use these details to restore the scene.
If it was Citalopram, perhaps more details could be found.
Although Citalopram was a psychiatrist, Suuankou always subconsciously felt that Citalopram had a forensic-like cold air with her.
To put it into words, it felt like Orochimaru [2].
He picked up the shovel and assessed it carefully.
A system prompt appeared in front of him:
[Bloody Shovel]
[—It was once a murder weapon.]
There was no doubt that people had died here.
Even though Suuankou did not know who died, he could also guess that this should not be a murder.
In an underground city with no weapons shortage, no one would murder with a shovel.
At the same time, however, no one should be entering the place with a shovel.
Suuankou’s eyes turned to those bloodstains.
He took two steps forward, approaching the bloodstain.
Then, Suuankou suddenly felt an immense sense of fear for no reason when he got closer to the bloodstain.
The surrounding world adopted a red shade decorated with black lines.
In his ears, there was a distorted scream. It was like the rustling sound of a shell being brought close to the ear, mixed with a sharp and piercing voice like a devil:
“—Hurry up, he’s about to wake up! Take out his liver first!”
“—Kars, come here. I’ll turn on the machine!”
“—Where is Alice?”
“—She must be hiding in this mill!”
The next moment, the auditory hallucination ended.
Suuankou suddenly heard a wailing wind behind him.
He shuddered immediately!
A sharp pain came from the back of his head. His eyes widened, but his vision went dark instead.
Suuankou staggered two steps forward and fell to the ground.
The blood spilling from the back of his head slowly soaked the ground.
It was covering, eroding towards dried brown bloodstains.
Finally, the blood trails outlined identical traces.
“Hiss—” Suuankou was startled and sat up on the bed.
He clutched the back of his head as if he could still feel phantom pains.
He looked around vigilantly and saw the two beds at the first moment.
He was lying on the bed, still covered with a quilt.
Little Bear stood by the bed with an OvO smile stitched on his face with black thread.
Bullet text appeared before his eyes again:
“—Fuck, that scares me!”
“—Just now, I thought two people would come out, take out a test tube and feed Brother Koutsu a pill.”
“—I know. This story is called Detective Kou-nan (confirmed).”