You said you were going to make games, how did you become the richest man without doing anything?

Chapter 553 Investigation Site
"We can't be sure yet, maybe it's Qian Jin." Before Tang Yin finished speaking, a tall figure slowly emerged from the morning mist.

"Is there something you need from me?" Qian Jin's voice was still as carefree and lazy as ever, as if he didn't care about anything going on around him. He was wearing a dark gray jacket, his hands in his pockets, but his eyes were unusually sharp.

Tang Yin looked at this familiar figure and sighed inwardly: ...I knew you were still alive. As expected, in this strange village, everyone is hiding unknown secrets.

"Is Hualu okay?" Qian Jin suddenly asked, with a barely perceptible concern in his voice.

"I knew you would say that..." Tang Yin narrowed his eyes slightly, "It should be fine, but she hasn't come out yet. What's wrong?"

Qian Jin's eyes flickered. "...I have a bad feeling. I wish I were just worrying too much." He paused. "So, the deceased was Granny Rong?"

"Grandma Rong is still alive." Gao Mei suddenly interrupted, with a hint of impatience in her tone.

"Really?" Qian Jin showed a relaxed smile on his face, as if he had heard some good news.

How could he be so optimistic? Tang Yin thought, if he could still laugh in such a situation, he must be either too naive or hiding something.

"Xiaomei, take Xiaomei to the cafeteria." Tang Yin gave the instruction decisively, then looked at Qian Jin, "Qian Jin, let's go."

"..." Qian Jin hesitated, his expression flickering. Tang Yin knew that he must have also discovered that something had happened to that trustworthy man, Zhao Gang.

The two men walked through the misty village road and arrived at Zhao Gang's residence. Sure enough, the door was unlocked. A strong smell of blood seeped from the crack in the door, pungent in the early morning air.

Although he had prepared himself mentally, Tang Yin still felt a strong wave of nausea the moment he pushed open the door. This scene was far worse than he had imagined.

The two bodies found on the first day, as well as those of Gao Zhijie and Qin Yi, were horrific, unrecognizable. Yet, the sheer gore and gore of these scenes created a sense of unreality. Meanwhile, the bodies of Tong Xiaoliang and Wolf Master appeared remarkably "clean," completely unscathed, save for fatal abdominal wounds.

But Zhao Gang is different.

His body collapsed onto the worn wooden floorboards, and the entire hut was covered in blood foam and messy bloody footprints. Brain matter, brain matter, and bone fragments, mixed with eyeballs, were scattered across the floorboards. About 60% of his head was completely shattered. This level of destruction was neither a completely uncontrolled outburst nor an overly restrained execution, but rather a perfectly balanced cruelty.

Most striking was the rifle lying quietly beside the body. This was the first time the killer had left a weapon at the scene, and it was a firearm. Was it an oversight or deliberate? Or was the killer trying to convey a message through this gun?
Tang Yin's eyes scanned the bloody scene, countless possibilities flashing through his mind. This case seemed to be developing in a more complicated direction. But one thing was certain: the murderer's behavior was changing, and behind this change, there must be a vital clue.

Qian Jin remained silent at the door, but Tang Yin could sense his breathing becoming rapid. Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting mottled shadows on the bloodstains on the floor. The entire room was filled with the scent of death.

Even more heartbreaking was the clear evidence of Zhao Gang's final moments of agony on his body. The pain and terror evident on the half-remaining face resembled a frozen painting of despair. His hands were stiffly raised, not as if instinctively shielding his face, but rather as if he were trying to ascertain the severity of the fatal wound.

Tang Yin's gaze fell upon those hands, and an indescribable shock welled up within him—Zhao Gang had died clutching his own shattered brain. What incredible physical strength and willpower did it take for someone to pull off such an almost impossible feat after enduring such a devastating injury? Ultimately, he seemed to accept this harsh reality, his expression permanently frozen in despair.

At this moment, Tang Yin seemed to feel the despair of Zhao Gang at his death. The emotional resonance made him unable to hold back any longer, and he turned around and vomited outside the door again.

"...Are you alright..." Qian Jin also looked away, his voice trembling. Even for someone who had seen life and death before, it was difficult for him to remain calm in the face of such a scene.

"Who..." Tang Yin swallowed his saliva, "Who can use a gun and bring someone here--"

Before he could finish his words, a figure appeared at the door. Tang Yin was stunned: I didn't expect that the person coming was you.

Wang Lina stood there, wearing a neat uniform, her expression serious and earnest. This aura made Tang Yin swallow the rest of his words involuntarily.

"...Brother Gang...damn it...!" Wang Lina's voice was filled with suppressed anger. But she quickly calmed down and turned her gaze to the murder weapon on the ground.

"This is Mr. Gao Zhijie's rifle." She bent down to pick up the blood-stained rifle and examined it professionally. "...All five rounds have been fired. Are there any shell casings on the ground?"

"Let's look for it." Tang Yin said, and began to search the ground carefully.

Soon after, they discovered five metal bullet casings stained with blood and flesh in the pool of blood. These casings were clustered about two meters from the body. Did the killer fire the gun from this spot? Or was the casing deliberately placed there to create an illusion?
"Look, the position of the handle." Wang Lina handed the rifle to Tang Yin and motioned him to observe it carefully.

Tang Yin took the rifle and immediately noticed something unusual. The gun was covered in blood, except for the handle, which had been carefully wiped. "Wipe for fingerprints...?" he said thoughtfully.

"That's right." Wang Lina took the rifle and expertly assumed a shooting stance, aiming the muzzle at Zhao Gang's body. Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a sharp ray of light on her tall figure. "The murderer fired the shot from here."

Her voice was calm and professional, but Tang Yin could sense the anger hidden within it. In the morning light, Wang Lina's profile looked particularly resolute.

The smell of blood grew stronger in the sealed room, mingling with the odor of burning gunpowder. Tang Yin's eyes darted around the scene, trying to find more clues. Why did the murderer use a gun? Why Gao Zhijie's gun? Why did he deliberately clean the fingerprints? Every detail seemed to reveal a larger mystery. And the core of this mystery might lie in Zhao Gang's face, forever frozen in despair.

"How do you know?" Tang Yin asked with a frown, his eyes moving back and forth between the blood-stained scene and Wang Lina's gun-holding posture.

Wang Lina narrowed her eyes slightly, and her slender fingers drew an arc in the air along the trajectory of the bloodstains. "Look at the direction of the bloodstains, that's the evidence. Moreover, the shooting angle is very low." Her voice was calm and professional, as if she was conducting an ordinary technical analysis. The morning light slanted in through the window, illuminating the dust floating in the air. Wang Lina continued to explain: "Unless shot at close range, an ordinary rifle cannot cause such a serious wound." She paused, her eyes sweeping across the barrel, "And if the muzzle was pointed at the head before firing, the muzzle would not be so clean."

Tang Yin's brain raced. Did this mean the killer fired at the location of the bullet casing? He shuddered. "Did he hit it?"

Wang Lina raised a meaningful smile at the corner of her mouth, "As long as you know how to aim and the target doesn't move, you will definitely hit it." There was a chilling certainty in her tone.

"In other words, the murderer is someone who can use a gun..." Tang Yin muttered to himself, a hint of thought flashing in his eyes.

Wang Lina casually slung her rifle over her shoulder, the movement appearing remarkably expert. "Well, as long as you get the sights right, anyone can kill with a gun. It's just that easy." Her tone was calm, yet it sent a chill down your spine.

"What about loading bullets? Ordinary people shouldn't be able to do that, right?" Tang Yin asked, hoping to find more clues.

"That's true." Wang Lina nodded slightly. "But even Granny Rong knows how to use a gun... I guess you can't find anyone in the Hidden Mist Village who can't use a gun, right?"

The Hidden Mist Village was a hunting village, and its inhabitants had lived with guns for generations. For them, firing a gun was as natural as breathing. This fact made Tang Yin ponder—could it be that Xiao Mei was the only suspect?
Wang Lina suddenly squatted down, her slender fingers gently tracing the scars on Zhao Gang's body. "Look, some of the bullets missed. One hit the ear, two hit the chest and shoulder..." Her eyes were suddenly drawn to something on the ground. "Ah, there's a bullet hole here too."

Tang Yin looked in the direction she pointed and saw a small, round bullet hole on the floor. "Only one bullet hit the head?"

"Well, and he should have been alive when he was shot in the head. It was not until he was shot in the chest..." Wang Lina's voice gradually lowered, and a trace of imperceptible sadness flashed in her eyes.

Looking at Wang Lina's professional analysis, Tang Yin couldn't help but ask, "By the way, why are you so professional?"

Wang Lina stood up and brushed the nonexistent dust off her clothes. "I have a hunting license, and I know how to use it, whether it's a gun, a trap, or a net," she said with a hint of pride.

"Besides, I often shoot clay pigeons outside, so I'm naturally familiar with this kind of thing," she added, her eyes never leaving Zhao Gang's body. The sunlight on her face revealed a faint tear mark.

The smell of blood in the air seemed to be stronger, mixed with the burnt smell of gunpowder, making this enclosed space seem even more depressing.

Looking at Wang Lina's skillful movements and professional analysis, Tang Yin couldn't help but sigh: "...Oh, that's amazing, it's really unexpected." There was some sincere admiration in his voice, but also a hint of subtle temptation.

Wang Lina glanced at him casually and said, "I guess so." Her answer was brief and cold, as if she was already accustomed to such compliments.

Sunlight slanted in through the gaps in the blinds, casting mottled shadows on the floor. Tang Yin leaned against the wall and asked casually, "Are you planning to return to your hometown and become a hunter after graduation?"

"I just like the feeling of holding a gun," Wang Lina replied with uncharacteristic indifference. Her slender fingers gently stroked the barrel, and an elusive glint flashed in her eyes. The chilly tone of her voice seemed to lower the temperature in the room even further.

Tang Yin's mind suddenly flashed back to Qin Ming's words. Regarding Wang Lina's past, Qin Ming had said meaningfully, "Well, sort of. I almost killed someone."

As if she had noticed Tang Yin's thoughts, Wang Lina took the initiative to explain: "When I was in middle school, several senior students bullied students from the Hidden Mist Village, so I beat them up with a baseball bat." Her tone was terrifyingly calm when she said this, as if she was narrating an ordinary past event.

Tang Yin's gaze lingered on Wang Lina for a moment. Could a girl who had previously caused violence really wantonly harm those around her? But this was ultimately just his speculation. Although the girl before him appeared aloof, her every move exuded the aura of a professional.

"...It's almost time to clean it up." Tang Yin said softly, his eyes sweeping over the bloodstains and bullet holes on the ground.

Wang Lina suddenly turned around, her dark eyes staring straight at him: "Tang Yin, is this really okay?"

"Let's clean it up." Tang Yin's tone was firm.

"Did you find anything?" Wang Lina asked, her slender fingers unconsciously stroking the pistol on her waist.

Tang Yin took a deep breath, "I can only be sure that this is a crime committed by humans."

Shooting, fingerprinting—these are all typical human methods of killing. If the murderer were truly a supernatural being, there would be no need to go to such lengths to use a gun; simply using supernatural powers would suffice.

"Supernatural phenomena that can be achieved through magic must be caused by magic." This is the basic principle that Tang Yin has summed up through years of knowledge accumulation and practical experience.

Like those supernatural powers that require a specific sequence of preparatory rituals, these are typical cases of creating a blind spot through preparatory rituals, then cleverly hiding the blind spot through magic tricks, and finally using this blind spot to achieve the so-called supernatural phenomenon.

But the cause of death of the corpse before him was definitely not caused by any supernatural force. It was simply a crime committed secretly by a human being using some means. Tang Yin had no doubt about this.

"I think so." Wang Lina replied softly, her eyes wandering around the scene thoughtfully.

"You think so too?" Tang Yin turned to look at her and saw an inexplicable smile on her lips, as if she had already seen through something. The afterglow of the setting sun shone through the window onto her face, casting an ambiguous halo on her cold face.

(End of this chapter)