[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Qt9DFLQ.gif[/img][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] Bliss seemed to be a dead end, which was almost a relief to Daimyon. He really did not want the caring, protective nanny with whom even cooking was—relatively—enjoyable to be guilty. Personal feelings aside, it also meant that they were unfortunately no closer to the truth than before. The poet racked his brain, but he knew it would not serve with much useful information. Instead, he tried digging into his notebook, looking for something, anything at all that would help them further this case. All the while, a series of negative thoughts clouded his concentration: his usefulness during trials was situational at best—he knew from his notes that he was not particularly effective in previous cases, either—and if he could not even keep murders from occurring again, then what was he good for? The Infinites counted among themselves a politician, a police officer and a metal worker among the people whose talents were instrumental in the group's survival. Others, like Mercy herself, fit the same role before their lives were robbed from them. What could he, the Infinite Poet, say about himself? He felt like he was just tagging along for the ride while more deserving people died around him. And it made him feel very guilty. Shrugging these nagging thoughts off, he found a short diary-like portion in his notebook where he described the events leading up to the party. He had written that the cooking had been done [i]‘after four hours of, hopefully rewarding, toil and sweat’[/i] and that the organisers, including him, had gone out to invite the rest of the Infinites shortly after. Knowing that he had started cooking about an hour after his own lunch at noon, that placed the invitation period after 5 pm. He remembered having a lengthy discussion about the equipment just before, so that placed the exact time at the 5:30-5:45 mark. That was when he, along with Krista, Felix and Faith, visited everyone to bring them along for the party. As he was ordering the timeline in his head, the topic of contention turned back to Mercy. Thomas mentioned seeing her, apparently fine, at 4:30 and Felix mentioned that her movement was off at the party, which had been long planned to start at 7 pm. Thinking back, Daimyon could also support the free runner's claim... [color=seagreen]“Aside from her clumsiness, I believe she was also more...conversational than usual at our table,”[/color] he said, following up on Felix. [color=seagreen]“Admittedly I did not know her too well, but her demeanour seemed different regardless. This might...really mean she was infected...”[/color] He paused and raised a hand to his chin, getting a sudden burst of inspiration. [color=seagreen]“And, Thomas, you said there was nothing wrong with her at 4:30. Are you certain? I was the one who went up to her to invite her to the concert. That must have been around 5:30, or slightly later. Though I was not perceptive enough to notice anything suspicious about her there, I can say that she was in the presence of others from that point. All of us were, for the concert started shortly after. I sincerely doubt anyone could have infected her in the period after 5:30. Which gives us a window for the infection of...one hour? Is that possible?”[/color] Still driven by this thread of logic, he reached for his e-handbook and checked the available truth bullets once again. They confirmed his thoughts. [color=seagreen]“And...!”[/color] he continued. [color=seagreen]“I can also assert that the mask, which was found in that area, was [i]not[/i] there when I visited her. If everyone was supposed to be taken account of from that point on all the way until the murder, then who could have dropped it? And when?”[/color]