coobybook Chapter 426: Imitator Carnival (Part 6)
Chapter 426: Imitator Carnival (Part 6)
[Patient: Wuuwuwu, Ada, I was deceived, wuuwuwu~]
[Psychologist: Don't be sad, Emil, this is not your problem.]
[Patient: But, I didn’t recognize you right away. Will you think I’m useless and ignore me forever?]
[Psychologist: How could that be, Emil? You will always be the one I love the most~]
[Patient: Ada~]
[Psychologist: Emil~]
[Gravekeeper: I can’t stand it anymore. I’m going to dig a hole and bury myself in it.]
[Batter: Not really.]
[Puppeteer: Just be patient and you'll get used to it.]
[Ms. Farrow: I have earplugs, would you like some?]
[Gravekeeper & Bassman & Puppeteer: Yes!]
[Ms. Farrow: Oh, man.]
After laughing, the knight immediately sent the mercenary a summons from the conspirator.
The mercenary was furious. "Richard, you're kicking me out even though I don't have a knife. Are you trying to take revenge on me? You *Nepalese curse*!"
The mercenary then fell to the ground, but his sharp words were still echoing in the air of the conference room.
"It would be best if the second subpoena is sent to the sheriff. Let me think, who will the sheriff be? Will it be Miss Emma or Ms. Emily?" The knight held the subpoena in his hand, ready to write down his guess on it.
Conan was thinking from the perspective of a knight: "From Mr. Richard's perspective, Mr. Naib is a hunter, Mr. Egg is probably an orator or a boxer, and one of Ms. Emma and Ms. Emily should be a sheriff."
"According to the winning rules, as long as we guess one more person correctly, the number of imitators will be equal to that of the detective team, and the imitators will win." Amuro Toru looked at the knight who was about to write down the second person's name and reminded everyone of the winning rules of the game.
The knights in the arena were struggling to decide who was the sheriff. "How about I guess, is Egg a boxer? Or an orator? Damn it, which of these two is the sheriff?"
[Ms. Farrow: Richard began to struggle.]
[Puppeteer: Doesn't this directly suggest that Iger is a speaker?]
[Gravekeeper: Iger's final performance probably also showed that he was a boxer, so that's why it was so confusing.]
[Mercenary: I'm really impressed by this guy. The identities of the other two shouldn't be that difficult to guess.]
[Batter: It's convenient to have a bird's-eye view, but Richard doesn't have it right now.]
[Ms. Farrow: If he's wrong, the pressure will be on Florian.]
After thinking for a long time, the knight silently wrote "The Gardener is a Detective" on the flyer, but unfortunately he guessed wrong, and the flyer slowly fell into his own hands.
"Hahaha, as expected, I didn't guess it right." The knight fell to the ground.
"No, Richard, what are you doing, Richard! It's me they want the votes for, you could have struggled one more time, woooo!" The fire investigator still had a ticket on his head that the mercenary had hung before leaving. A full four votes directly sent him out of the game.
"You are only one step away from success." The gardener put his hands on his hips and looked at the fire investigator with a smile.
"Ah!" The fire investigator lay on the conference table in grief and anger, watching the messengers of the Cat God - the group of cats responsible for maintaining the imitator map approaching.
"The loser has to pay ten cans of cat food, Florian. Take them out." The gardener smiled and stretched out his hand.
"Um, can I ask Evelyn for it? I don't have any money in my pocket~" The fire investigator began to act pitiful.
The door to the conference room was kicked open again, and Ms. Farrow stormed out angrily: "Florian Brand! I gave you pocket money just last week! Where have you been?"
"I'm reporting Florian for hiding flammable materials in the stairwell." The knight following behind betrayed his teammates without hesitation. "He even hid it in Matthias's puppet display case."
The puppeteer looked at the fire investigator in shock: "How many places did you hide flammable materials?"
"Actually, after arriving at this villa, I've been secretly hiding flammable materials in various places. I've also used some new technology. For example, I've used pressure sensors to make the sofa spontaneously combust after being sat on for a while. It's definitely a great tool for creating accidental fires."
People outside: Huh?
"Oh my god!" The philanthropist jumped up from the sofa cushion and carefully looked under the cushion. "I was shocked. There's nothing there."
The next second, bursts of orange-yellow flames began to emerge from under Jack's buttocks. The sculptor sitting in the wheelchair saw this scene and started to hold back his laughter.
The grocer beside him also looked at Jack in surprise: "Mr. Jack, don't you feel anything?"
"What?" Jack, whose sense of pain had been greatly reduced by wearing the "Evil Eye Host", had no idea that there was a fire under him.
The prophet couldn't help but remind Jack: "Mr. Jack, you are in trouble."
Jack smirked. "Thanks, Mr. Clark. I'm a hotshot. Detectives, police, judges, and phrenologists all love to chase me."
[Wax sculptor: You are so narcissistic.]
[Recorder: ...]
[Novelist: Let him have fun.]
The prophet helplessly explained again: “Mr. Jack, what I mean is that there is a fire under you.”
Jack stood up from the sofa suddenly. The sofa was burning, and the hem of Jack's clothes and half of his body were burning together.
"Hahahaha!" The philanthropist finally couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Jack was speechless at this moment: "When did Florian install these devices here? I'm really impressed."
Fortunately, Jack Hongwen was used to it, and this kind of fire would not have much impact on the supervisor. After they hurriedly put out the fire on the sofa, they began to check whether there was such a device on other sofas.
The photographer walked around the long table. "It seems some people just can't change their habits. These flammable materials, huh, are quite high-end. He must have spent a lot of money to develop the perfect formula."
"Florian will probably be scolded to death by Evelyn when he gets back." The philanthropist, who had just finished laughing and was breathing heavily, finally recovered a little. "It's a good thing he didn't continue to set fire to the house."
This round of imitators' revelry was clearly a victory for the detectives, with the gardener and the doctor high-fiving each other, while the batsman and Ms. Farrow stared down the fire investigators.
The fire investigator huddled pitifully on the sofa, shielding himself with pillows, trying to play the ostrich to escape. By the way, he also asked for help from the puppeteer: "Matthias, save me, I really didn't put the flammable material into your puppet..."
The knight added fuel to the fire, fanning the flames: "Don't believe him, Matthias. If you don't believe me, why don't you call Louis out and ask him?"
The puppeteer thought the knight's words made sense and summoned Louis. Then he saw Louis pulling his trouser legs in grievance, showing him his burnt trousers. (Louis needs new trouser legs!)
The puppeteer was about to attack the fire investigator when Louis tugged at his trouser leg and pointed at the knight. The puppeteer quickly turned around and looked at the knight with a speechless look.
"Mattias, listen to my explanation. I just accidentally knocked over Florian's potion at the door of your collection room. Strictly speaking, it can't be considered my fault." The knight took a step back guiltily.
The puppeteer was so angry that he laughed. "I'm really impressed. You two are truly the poets of Plum Art Pavilion! Today I'll show you what it means that flesh and blood are useless!"