Black Butterfly, Where Does the Black Butterfly Go Drink Water

[-Well, I don't know why you called me here, but I have nothing to do with this!]

[There's testimony that all of the three dead kids were close to you, but you have nothing to do with it? You as a teacher has nothing to do with their deaths?]

[Oh, don't talk nonsense. I was close to them, and it's true that they consulted me. But I've never said anything crazy to them that it's better to die. It's true.]

A man with half-bald head, to a small degree was making a nervous impression. Tim, who was looking from outside the interrogation room at the scene of a man raising his thin silver-rimmed glasses that kept flowing down, narrowed his brows. Beckman was heated up - anyway, that's the only clue to explain this - but there seemed to be little harvest yet. While touching his chin, Tim headed to Jude, sitting in a lax position next to him.

"How do you see it? Is he lying?"

"Well, maybe."

"If not, there's a slim chance. A teacher who was spreading pessimism to his students, did he influence them unintentionally?"

"Well, maybe."

"......Jude. Be a little bit motivated."

Stretching out on the chair, the blond detective shook his hand to reach for Tim without even turning his head. There was a distinct annoyance on his face.

"Why, it's not even our case."

"If we've helped this much, the case is pretty much in our hands already, and with the kids dying like this, don't you feel like solving it?"

Speaking a little bit intensely, Jude glanced at Tim and put his hand on his stomach with a pitiful look on his face.

"Sorry, Tim. I'm a little sick right now."

"…….I’m speechless."

[Ah, I'm a teacher. I just told the children some of the philosophers’ ideas according to my teaching perspective! That's not how the kids die, okay? God, no way they died because of me! They are not old enough to understand Schopenhauer's ideas deeply!]

The man's cry was pathetic--and increasingly devoid of confidence in himself. Tim's face was darkened. It was a very unpleasant incident. If he was the main culprit, wouldn't it mean that he killed three children without realizing it? Can we accuse such a person for murder? Many thoughts confused his mind.

In Jude's pocket, sighing a little as he watched the tedious battle, the cell phone cried dryly.

"What, I told you not to call me when I’m working."

His sudden voice wasn't very warm, and Tim frowned at the thought of the debt-ridden friend. He is such a nuisance.

"......Ah. I know. To some extent. But........ Oh, I'm tired. Why do you want me to do that? I'm not doing it........ Ah, okay. I'm hanging up.”

Jude, who closed his flip phone, sighed for a long time while looking at the ceiling. After a few times roughly messing his dishevelled hair, Jude jerked his head away before Tim asked about the phone call.

"Tim, I'm going out. I have something to look for."

"Ah? Oh, yeah."

Tim, who stood up and stared at the back of Jude opening the door looking a little annoyed for a while, soon turned back to the interrogation room with his arms folded. I wondered if he was going to negotiate because that friend who kept bothering him, but now the man in front of me was more urgent.