He delivered both statements in the same calm voice. Like either option—snacking on human flesh or suffocating women with fabric—wasn’t insane at all.
I know what the problem is. He’s really good at lying. They saved the best for last.
I frowned at Kenji.
Rin was the true test.
Kenji smiled, probably knowing exactly what I was thinking.
Whatever, Dragon. I’ll still beat you. I hope. . .
I considered the statement and returned my gaze to Rin. “Alright. Statement one.”
My stomach twisted in disgust, but I made sure to not let it show on my face. “You eat a human heart once a month. Question: what’s your preparation for the heart when you eat it? Raw, boiled, or grilled?”
He stalled. It was so small most people would’ve missed it. The first flicker of confusion I’d seen on his face.
He blinked, once, like he’d glanced at a word in a foreign language and needed the dictionary to show up on its own. Thenhe looked at me the way you look at a stranger who has asked for a secret. “Raw.”
My skin hummed. The word wasn’t wrong. It just didn’t fit him. His nails were too clean, his teeth too unstained, his posture too serene to have swallowed that kind of iron.
Naw. You’re not a raw sort of guy. I could see Satoshi eating a heart raw, but you. . .no way.
Additionally, his answer showed that he didn’t even cook for himself which made sense since I was sure he was royalty.
So. . .he really couldn’t figure out a proper answer to say. You probably should have said, “I don’t know. My cook prepares it.”
Still, I wasn’t completely sure just yet. “Statement two, a bag over a woman’s face while you have sex. What kind of bag?”
“Silk,” he replied instantly.
A slice of disdain cut through the air, like he was annoyed I’d asked a question with such an obvious answer.
I could see Rin yelling at me now.“Of course it would be silk! What am I? A peasant! Only the best bags when I cover a woman’s face while I fuck her.”
My heart thumped twice, hard.
Wow.
The speed of the answer sold it.
People lied slower than they told the truth.
Lies needed manufacturing.
Truth arrived with itself intact.
Dude really is putting silk bags over women’s head while he fucks them? I now have even MORE questions. . .I could write a book on him.
I had to blink a few times just to keep my focus on the test and not go into journalist mode. “Umm. . .statement three.”
I tilted my head. “Royalty. Third in line. Then who is the Emperor to you? What is your relationship?”
If he were bluffing, a web would spring in his eyes. He would reach for a branch and grab air. He would—
“My uncle.” he said, immediate and flat. No pause. No flicker. He did not over-explain, which liars loved to do. He simply had the answer ready.
Reo closed his notebook. “Time.”
