Oh? Mr. Cardon's mental state is becoming increasingly strange.
If Mr. Dickens continues to question who I am and what brought me here, Fu Qian would find it normal.
But it suddenly veered off to events from decades ago?
Moreover, how could someone like me, visiting this esteemed place for the first time, provide an authoritative answer in this regard?
"Wasn't that case already closed?"
Fu Qian, curious, retorted abruptly, tossing aside the bottle of pineapple-flavored liquid and with a pop, opening another bottle.
"It appears so, but we want to hear your opinion, after all, you're holding the deceased's possession."
Indeed not easy to fool, Mr. Dickens almost instantly responded, giving Fu Qian no chance to evade the question, finding a reason right on target.
"Could it be because he was a fraud?"
Fu Qian glanced at the cross star in his hand, and in the next moment, truly began analyzing the bloody crime from years ago.
