Chapter 2172: Chapter 2167: Confinement (41)
"No, it was him who helped me; otherwise, what I did would have remained as rubbish."
Facing Fu Qianâs question, the artworks he had warned not to touch earlier were scattered indiscriminately across the floor.
It was clear that Rachel was not as satisfied with them as she had seemed.
"What you see is just the surface; itâs far more than this cabinet and the paintings on topâ"
The intense resentment in her eyes did not lessen with such actions.
"You know, this is a unified whole, right? All your actions, your reactions to threats... perfectly conceal him in the end."
Fu Qian interrupted her indifferently, gesturing around.
Whatâs difficult to understand about this? Performance art is art too.
It was obvious that Rachelâs "artistic awakening" had reached a deeper level; simple symbolism in paintings could no longer satisfy her, making her feel shallow and tasteless.
Dennis, who came to her doorstep, provided a new theme that sparked her creative enthusiasm.
Using a forceful, pure, and unrestrained posture to completely conceal a personâs existence is indeed quite unusual.
Especially when the subject to be concealed is quite special.
Fu Qian looked down at the boy in the cabinet; his eye movements had become larger but he still wasnât in a hurry to get up.
Even so, it couldnât stop the discovery of bloodstains on his hands and body.
"Did you kill Yiven?"
Fu Qian casually nodded and greeted.
This was certainly not his blood; the boyâs vital signs were entirely normal.
Right under this area, to his knowledge, was a fresh corpse with a slit throat.
Although he had previously commented on the mediocre knife skills, theoretically the victim should have been Yivenâs prey.
But experienced individuals know never to underestimate the lethality of half-grown youths.
...
Dennis remained silent, though his eyes blinked once.
He seemed not to want to "have the right to remain silent," but was indifferent to speaking.
"Do you want to tell me that Iâve harbored a murderer? Haha... Do you think I care? If he hadnât done anything, that would be what disappoints me the most... Hahahaâ"
Meanwhile, someone beside him was very active.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Rachelâs face filled with such radiant joy, comparable to that of a Saintâs infectiousness.
"Donât overdramatize; donât you know the best art is always imperfect?"
Unfortunately, this mad statement was ruthlessly interrupted by Fu Qian, who pointed back at the cabinet.
"Such good material helped you complete the work, perfectly depicted earlier, yet youâre still not satisfied?
"Perfect representation shattered only enhances sublimation, while your actions now are precisely the opposite."
These enlightening words of a master successfully plunged the room into silence.
And that was far from the only effect; it was evident that under such mental coercion, both Rachel and Dennis had significantly increased their communicative capacity.
"Where did you meet him?"
Satisfied, Fu Qian wasted no time, verifying specific details directly.
"On the road... he was walking alone, and I thought he was in trouble, so I stopped and asked... then he asked if I could make sure nobody found him."
Her mental state still seemed unstable, but at least she could answer questions.
The smile settled at the corner of her mouth as Rachel finally began to reveal her creative journey.
And indeed, it seemed Dennis likely killed someone and eventually found that exit, not some underground passage leading here.
"Then your inspiration erupted, and you brought him here? No one saw you along the way?"
Fu Qian nodded with satisfaction and continued to confirm.
"No, it was pretty late by that time."
Rachelâs tone was very certain.
"And you skipped work today just to complete the work?"
Everything seemed in order, and life seemed far stranger than the story.
The paint on the cabinet was still fresh, some of it even smeared onto Dennis.
"Yes, it hadnât been long before you arrived."
Rachel admitted frankly.
Even though he had been lying there all night, he still showed no intention to leave, allowing the operation to proceed.
Fu Qian glanced at Dennis, his earlier evaluation of "living dead" proving accurate.
Praising Rachel for completing a stunning creation wasnât actually false praise.
Because theoretically, heâd already had close contact with the cabinet earlier, but because of her work, only on the second visit did he open the cabinet.
And apart from Rachelâs performance, Dennisâs own qualities were also crucial.
Worn, rusty, locked chests, how many could calmly lie inside? Even spend a night there?
In the absence of Extraordinary Perception, this chestâs suspicion wouldnât be larger than any enclosed places within a prison.
"Can you stand up?"
Ignoring Rachel, Fu Qian spoke directly to the boy in the cabinet.
Creakâ
Sure enough, the boy didnât make a sound but pushed himself up anyway.
Unfortunately, there was no key inside the chest, and his thin shirt revealed no outline suggesting a key.
"Letâs go."
Having listened to his and Rachelâs conversation was enough to know he was an officer.
Fu Qian wasted no words, directly signaling Dennis to follow.
"Someoneâs looking for Emily."
Soon, Fu Qian drove his black car again, letting Dennis sit beside him like a regular passenger.
Facing the living dead-like figure, Fu Qian neither comforted nor questioned him but directly gave information.
...
"A dangerous person."
Dennis remained silent, and Fu Qian added.
While speaking, he had already driven out of the prison.
"...Not police?"
From the beginning until now, Dennis finally spoke for the first time; dry and frankly unpleasant during voice-change.
"Not police, and you need to answer a few questions to help me find her before they do."
Fu Qian continued rightfully.
"Youâre not tricking me... to find her?"
Unfortunately, the young man appeared to be quite wary.
"Do you think itâs better if the police find her or donât find her?"
This situation doesnât benefit from explaining; Fu Qian directly gestured to the blood on Dennis.
"...Ask away."
The effect was immediate.
"Very simple, have you ever seen a white key?"
While silently estimating the distance from the prison, Fu Qian finally addressed the key point.
"No... Whatâs this question?"
Unfortunately, Dennisâs response sounded no better, seeming to have no concept of it.
"Any special objects related to white?"
Fu Qianâs tone seemed indifferent.
"No, neither of us even like wearing white clothes... Wait, the car we drove was white.
"Emily didnât like it... later hit it against a tree, and then we walked all the way here."
At one point, Dennis seemed to remember something.
"What about the car key?"
Fu Qian nodded.
"In my coat..."
Dennis began but then spoke lower.
The key wasnât in the coat.
Uncertain whether the White Key was the white carâs key, Fu Qian recollected his underground tunnel experience and confirmed an observation: the person before him had been heartbroken, mainly due to Emilyâs attitude toward him.
Teenagers naturally struggle with such emotions.
Now the focus was, where could that key have gone?
Must he venture back into the Art Prisonâs Inner World and dissect Brother Tantou?
"Where did you hit the tree?"
Ultimately, Fu Qian didnât retrace his steps but genuinely planned to fulfill his earlier promise.
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