The people sitting on both sides of Fukuzawa and Ranpo began to mutter to themselves in annoyance, but Ranpo paid no heed.
“The reason he got to be with the protagonist at the time of the first murder was because he used a candle as a time delay for the trigger! There were only two candles! You saw it with your own eyes, right, old guy?”
A small commotion began to grow around Ranpo. The actor onstage was glancing at him as well.
“Ugh! You’re so stupid! That guy you’re turning to for help is the killer! You still have the first picture you took, right? You’d be able to see he’s the killer if you just looked at it! Why are you dawdling?”
A few audience members began to whisper.
“What’s wrong with that boy?”
“But… Wait. That’s the killer? No way.”
“It would all make sense if he is, though, right?”
“Stop,” Fukuzawa lightly chided Ranpo.
But Ranpo continued.
“Oh, great. Just great. The two who went to the cargo room are gonna be killed next because they just happened to see the spider’s web that could have been used as evidence. Now just watch. The killer’s going to make up some excuse to leave the room like he needs to get the map or something. Ugh! Don’t let him get away!”
Ranpo stomped his feet on the ground in an aggravated manner. Almost immediately…
“I’ll go get the map,” said the character onstage as he disappeared behind the wing curtain.
“See?! This is so aggravating!”
The commotion started to get louder.
“No way. That’s the killer?”
“B-but he’s such a good guy… Why?”
“Was everything he said to his girlfriend just a lie?”
The whispers began to spread from seat to seat. Fukuzawa’s stomach pains were only getting worse.
“That’s enough. Some things you just need to keep to yourself,” demanded Fukuzawa with a little force.
“Why? Why is everyone watching this show? It’s so aggravating!” Ranpo’s eyes were ablaze with fury. “Seriously, why? It makes no sense to me. I don’t understand anyone! Why are adults like this? Why is everyone like this? Someone, just tell me why!” he shouted.
This outburst didn’t just come out of nowhere. Doubt and stress had been swelling inside him for the longest time, waiting to explode.
“I don’t understand what anyone’s thinking! I’m scared! It feels like I’m surrounded by monsters! It doesn’t matter what I say—nobody understands me! My parents were the only ones who did, and they’re dead!”
This time, he was screaming—an anguished lamentation aimed at nowhere in particular. The protagonist onstage was begging the skill user, who was nowhere to be found, to save them. As the protagonist cried for help, so did Ranpo.
“If there’s a skill user here, save me! If there’s an angel, then save me! Why must I be alone?! Why do I have to live alone in the middle of a bunch of monsters?”
“Enough!”
Fukuzawa grabbed on to Ranpo with both hands. Ranpo glared back at him with clear animosity in his eyes.
“I’ll tell you why. I’ll tell you what you want to know, so just stop.”
“…”
Ranpo didn’t say a word. Just then, the stage got dark, and lights began to shine one by one over the audience.