"Sis, can you not rub it in...?" Klein complained inwardly, feeling his head start to throb again.
The knowledge the original owner had forgotten wasn't too little, but it also wasn't too much. The interview was the day after tomorrow. How could he find the time to catch up?
And he was caught up in a bizarre and terrifying incident. How could he possibly have the mind to "review"?
After placating his sister with a few words, Klein pretended to read. Melissa pulled over a chair, sat beside him, and did her homework by the light of the gas lamp.
The atmosphere was peaceful and content. Near eleven o'clock, the siblings said goodnight to each other and climbed into their respective beds.
...
Bang! Bang, bang!
A series of knocks woke Klein from his dream. He glanced at the morning light outside the window, sat up with a slightly confused expression, and turned around. "Who is it?" It was already this late, why hadn't Melissa woken him up?
"It's me, Dunn Smith." A calm, steady male voice answered from outside the door.
Dunn Smith? I don't know him... Klein shook his head, got out of bed, and walked towards the door.
He pulled open the door and saw the gray-eyed police officer from yesterday.
"Did something happen?" Klein asked cautiously.
The gray-eyed officer replied with a serious expression. "We found a coachman. He confirmed that you went to Mr. Welch's residence on the 27th, the day Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya died. Furthermore, Mr. Welch was the one who paid your fare."
Klein was taken aback. He felt no fear or guilt at being caught in a lie.
Because he hadn't been lying at all. Instead, he felt the evidence provided by the gray-eyed officer, Dunn Smith, was exactly what he had anticipated.
On June 27th, the original owner had indeed gone to Welch's residence. On the night he returned, he committed suicide—exactly the same as Welch and Naya!
Klein opened his mouth, then gave a bitter smile. "This isn't strong enough evidence to directly link me to the deaths of Welch and Naya. To be honest, I want to know what happened too. I want to know what happened to my two poor friends. But, but I really don't remember. I've almost completely forgotten what I did on the 27th. You probably won't believe me, but I only managed to guess that I might have been to Welch's residence on the 27th because of my own notes."
"Good composure." The gray-eyed officer Dunn Smith nodded, showing neither anger nor a smile.
"You should be able to hear my sincerity." Klein looked directly into the other man's eyes.
Everything I said is the truth. Of course, it's only *part* of the truth!
Dunn Smith didn't respond immediately. He slowly swept his gaze across the room before speaking unhurriedly. "Mr. Welch lost a revolver. I think I should be able to find it here, right, Mr. Klein?"
Just as I thought... Klein finally understood the origin of the revolver. Thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning, and he made an instant decision.
He half-raised his hands, stepped back to clear the way, and gestured with his chin towards the bunk bed. "It's on the underside of the bed board."
He didn't specify which one, because a normal person wouldn't hide something on the underside of the upper bunk, which would be completely visible to a visitor.
The gray-eyed officer Dunn didn't move forward. He twitched the corner of his mouth. "Nothing you want to add?"
Klein answered without hesitation. "Yes!"
"When I woke up the night before last in the middle of the night, I found myself slumped over my desk. There was a revolver next to me, and bullets at the foot of the wall. It looked like I had attempted suicide. But maybe I was inexperienced, never used a gun before, or got scared at the last moment. Anyway, the bullet didn't achieve its intended effect. My head was still intact, and I survived."
"Since then, I've forgotten some memories, including what I did and saw at Welch's residence on the 27th. I'm not lying. I really don't remember."
To clear himself of suspicion and resolve the bizarre event that had entangled him, Klein said almost everything, except for his transmigration and the "gathering."
Besides, he had phrased his words carefully so that every statement could withstand scrutiny. For example, he didn't say the bullet missed his head, only that it didn't achieve its intended effect and that his head remained intact afterward.
To anyone listening, the two phrases meant almost the same thing, but in reality, they were completely different.
The gray-eyed officer Dunn listened quietly, then spoke in a deep, slow tone. "This is very close to the development I had hypothesized. It also matches the hidden logic of previous similar incidents. Of course, I don't know how you managed to survive."
"I'm glad you believe me. I don't know how I survived either." Klein breathed a slight sigh of relief.
"However," Dunn threw in a conjunction, "my belief doesn't matter. You are currently under high suspicion. You must be cleared by an 'expert' to confirm that you genuinely forgot the encounter, or that you didn't directly cause the deaths of Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya."
He coughed once, his expression turning serious.