The room had erupted into a cacophony of noise. Everyone was talking about what Daimyon just said. Everyone was discussing its credibility, from how someone could live like that for so long to how he kept it hidden. Finally Cyrus snapped his fingers.
“Let me see that!”
Without warning, Noel plucked Daimyon’s notebook out of his hands and passed it to Dennis, who then passed it on to Cyrus. He opened the book to the first page, stared at it for a few seconds, and then turned the page. He then did so again.
“Um.” Bliss turned to look at Monokuma. “Does Daimyon really have a condition like that? I think I’ve heard of it before, but never met someone who suffered from it.”
“Well…” Monokuma rocked side to side in his throne. “Typically we have a full confidentiality agreement with our infinite patients, but since Daimyon was the one to spill the beans… ” He stood up. “Yup!”
“Tch!” Ice froze. “You’re serious?”
“It would be beary nice if I lied at a time like this. That’s more something the lion they were going to replace me with would do!” The bear ran its paws down the front of his stomach. “I mean, he might have been exaggerating about his short term memory, but every day to him is the first time he’s seeing your faces.”
Cyrus passed the book back so that it could be returned to Daimyon. There were a few new cracks in his glasses. “The only possible explanation is that Daimyon has other notes elsewhere. Maybe a second book that would detail the events of the murder. We did a thorough investigation, but I feel as though we need to see Daimyon’s room.”
Monokuma groaned. “I need to keep everyone entertained, and giving you more time to investigate is boring, so guess what?” He threw his hands over his head. “Your benevolent GM has declared that there was nothing of the sort in Daimyon’s room!”
Ice leaned folward. “Maybe, Daimyon burned the notes-”
Cyrus growled. “Perhaps the reason they call you ice is because of how dense your skull is.”
“The fact of the matter is that each morning Daimyon wakes up, he needs to catch up on everything that’s happened. He needs to relearn about us, catch up on the situation, and constantly record more and more information as they days pile up. To try and prepare a murder on top of that is nigh impossible. This murder was prepared over a course of days, and Daimyon can’t do something like that without keeping notes for it.” Cyrus put on a fresh pair of glasses. “But we aren’t without options. Daimyon was just the most likely suspect. We still have one more. It’s a little irritating that he almost got me to condemn Daimyon, but we’re rectify that now.” He turned to face Dennis. “You saw Max working out. About what time did that happen?”
Dennis scratched his chin. “Maybe eight-thirty-ish.”
Cyrus grinned. “Well, there you have it. Max could have been doing anything before that time.” He pointed at the police officer. “It seems Max Visser is our killer.”
Max folded his arms. “And what makes you so sure? You’re underplaying Daimyon’s intelligence a great deal if you don’t think he’s capable of murder.”
“And you’re underplaying mine.”
“It’s clear that the death trap at the top of the stairs was rigged some time ago. Maybe a day, maybe longer, but all that really matters is that it was prepared before today. As was the poisoning of the coffee pot that Zachary and Jezebel used every morning. All you had to do was wake up and head in to see if your plan worked, which it did.” Cyrus pushed up his glasses. “With Jezebel and Zachary unconscious, you were free to manipulate the scene however you chose. You gave Jezebel a bottle of sleeping pills to make it look like she overdose, then borrowed her handbook to set up her room. You knew that the most likely suspects would be the ones who took her into her room. Then all you had to do was wait for them to be discovered while you trained in the dojo. Just like you planned, They were discovered. The two were carried into their respective rooms, and that was when you sprung the second part of your plan.” Cyrus’s grin widened as he continued, but it never looked manacle or intimidating. But it did drip with an unapologetic amount of smug.”That was when you set up the stairway trap, and shortly after recruited Dennis and Henry to help you investigate. You also had to get Daimyon out of Jezebel’s room. Having more than one person watch Jezebel was probably an oversight on your part, but that mattered little.” He slammed his palm into the podium. “The crash was close enough to Jezebel’s room that Emily heard it and came running, something that worked to your advantage. You had Dennis and Henry watch over the trap while you, Daimyon, and Emily split up to gather everyone. But you took a little detour, didn’t you?” Cyrus wasn’t smiling anymore. His face became stern and serious. “Before your arrival though, Faith understood what was going on. How isn’t clear, nor is the why, but she entered the room. She swapped outfits with Jezebel and used mono-snooze to knock herself out. You had no idea, largely because of how… unique her uniform is. You yanked the fishing line off of the door and strangled her to death. Then you left the room to help round up the others, where they would eventually discover that Jezebel’s room had been locked, and that you killed Faith.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.” Max sounded unconvinced.
"There are a few other hints aside from you being the most likely culprit at this point. Nothing concrete, but it seemed fishy. Aside from Daimyon and Emily, you had the most control over the events of the case. You were even the one to trigger the trap, right? Because you didn’t want to kill anyone with that. Your target was Jezebel. You were even the one to open up a discussion about why they would have traded outfits. Because as the killer, that was the one part of the case you didn’t understand." With a sigh, Cyrus lowered his arms to his sides. “I know you did it Max. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re still holding that fishing line somewhere on your person. It wasn’t at the crime scene, and I’m willing to bet that there weren’t any safe places to dispose of it.”
With a sigh, Max pulled the fishing string out of his pocket and dropped it on his podium. “Very well.”
What followed was everyone voting for Max, and him being confirmed as the killer. Most of the infinites weren’t taking it well, but Noel least of all. “Why?” was all she said.
“I had seen Jezebel carry a bunch of strange items into her room, and I thought she was going to murder someone. Though it seems in my haste to deliver justice, I hadn’t noticed it was all a joke from the infinite trickster.”
Noel shook her head. “And you were going to have us all die for it?”
There was a knob in Max’s throat. “It’s become increasingly clear to me that murders are going to keep happening. I don’t know what I was planning. My brother is dead, and I haven’t been in a very good place since then. But I’m glad you were able to catch me. In a strange way, I’m glad that Faith thwarted my attempt to kill Jezebel. If there are people willing to sacrifice themselves so that others may live, it proves that my choice to kill was wrong. I should have been more patient.” He looked at Noel. “Please continue to serve justice in ways that I couldn’t. I did not mean to create a tragedy. I just…” He trailed off.