boyutpedia Chapter 141 The probability is lower than winning the lottery.
Chapter 141 The probability is lower than winning the lottery.
Chapter 141 The probability is lower than winning the lottery.
The knocking sounded like a hammer blow to everyone's heart.
The room was so quiet you could hear each other's heartbeats.
The man's voice came from outside the door again.
"FBI, open the door, I know you're inside."
Alex moved.
He walked to the door, put his hand on the doorknob, and glanced back at everyone.
Then, he opened the door.
There were three people standing outside the door.
The leader was Chen Yuan, the FBI agent he had met at the airport.
"Please sit down."
Chen Yuan's voice wasn't loud, it could even be described as very soft, but it possessed a power that made people subconsciously obey.
It's the kind of aura that only those in positions of power, who have seen life and death and are accustomed to power, possess.
After they were all seated, the room was quiet for a few seconds.
Those few seconds felt like an eternity.
Then, Chen Yuan spoke.
"Another one died."
The expressions on the faces of the seven young people changed simultaneously.
Only Alex stared at Chen Yuan, his voice dry.
"Who?"
"A man, in his forties, bald, very strong."
"How did he die?"
Alex pressed on, his voice growing drier.
"He just fell from the building and died."
When Chen Yuan said this, Xirek's expression was very unpleasant.
It's not just bad, it's incredibly ugly.
Because the man smashed it right in front of him.
Cyril closed his eyes, and the image reappeared in his mind.
He had just stepped out of the elevator, intending to go downstairs for a smoke.
Just as I reached the hotel entrance, I heard a scream from above.
He instinctively looked up and saw a dark shadow descending from the sky, growing larger and larger.
"Bang!"
He would never forget that voice for the rest of his life.
Blood splattered all over him.
Warm.
It smells fishy.
The burly man's face was less than a meter away from him.
His eyes were still open.
His mouth was still open.
It was as if he wanted to say something before he died, but he could no longer say it.
Cyril suddenly opened his eyes, shook his head violently, and tried to shake the image out of his mind.
"Fell to his death..."
Alex repeated to himself.
"Including the female passenger who slipped and fell to her death in the restroom, and the passenger who was hit and killed by a vehicle with malfunctioning brakes..."
Chen Yuan paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces.
His gaze was calm, as calm as if he were counting a flock of sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
"Three are dead now."
"They all got off that plane."
This sentence exploded like a bomb in the room.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees suddenly—not just seemed, it really did.
Todd even shivered and subconsciously rubbed his arms, which were covered in goosebumps, dense and thick, like the back of a toad.
Carter finally couldn't hold back and spoke up.
His voice trembled violently, but he still tried his best to appear calm.
"You...you mean, the deaths of these three people weren't accidents?"
Chen Yuan did not answer.
He simply looked at Carter, his gaze so calm it sent chills down your spine.
Wenner spoke up from the side, taking over the conversation.
"Our preliminary investigation shows that all three deaths are consistent with accidental occurrences."
He paused, his tone complex.
"There were indeed water stains on the floor of the woman in the restroom, and the corner of the metal tissue box was right where she fell."
"The surveillance footage also showed that she was fine when she went in, but slipped when she came out and hit the corner with the back of her head."
"The whole process took less than two seconds, and no one approached her."
"Regarding the car accident, the car's braking system did indeed have a malfunction. The owner reported it for repair a few days ago, but it hasn't been fixed yet."
"The surveillance footage showed the passenger standing on the roadside waiting for a car when the out-of-control car suddenly rushed up to him, and he had no time to dodge."
"The one that fell down..."
Wenner glanced at Cyric, whose face turned even paler.
"That window has a design flaw; it opens too wide and there's no safety railing."
"He probably wanted to open the window for some fresh air, but he used too much force, lost his balance, and fell straight down from the seventh floor."
"Based on the evidence, these are three accidents."
"But from a probabilistic point of view..."
Shirek took over the conversation, his face grim, as if he had just swallowed a live fly.
"Statistically speaking, the probability of three passengers from the same plane dying within an hour of being rescued is..."
He gave a wry smile.
"Lower than winning the lottery."
Silence fell in the room once again.
The silence was like a heavy quilt, pressing down on everyone, making it hard to breathe.
Billy raised his hand timidly, like a primary school student asking a question in class.
His fingers were trembling, trembling violently, but he was still trying his best to hold it up.
"So...what does the FBI plan to do?"
Wenner and Shirek exchanged a glance.
What should I do?
They don't know either.
If it's murder, there were no signs of foul play at any of the three deaths.
The surveillance footage was crystal clear; no one approached the deceased, and no one tampered with the body.
It's an accident, but it's just too damn coincidental.
It was so coincidental that it sent chills down your spine, so coincidental that it made you wonder if ghosts really existed.
Wenner cleared his throat and adopted a businesslike tone.
"We have contacted the police department and will conduct a further investigation into these three deaths."
He took out several business cards and distributed them to everyone.
When handing out his business card, he would always add, "Call me anytime if you need anything."
"In addition, for your safety, we suggest you do not travel alone these next few days. Please contact us immediately if you need anything."
Shirek added, his tone more serious than Wenner's.
"It could be a coincidence, or it could be that someone is targeting the passengers on this plane."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces.
"It's always good to stay vigilant until the truth is revealed."
After they finished speaking, they looked at Chen Yuan.
Chen Yuan remained seated, showing no intention of leaving.
He didn't even look at them; his gaze remained fixed on Alex's face.
Wenner hesitated for a moment.
"Chen, you tell us."
Chen Yuan nodded.
He looked at Alex and suddenly spoke.
"You foresaw this before the plane exploded."
This sentence is not a question, it is a statement.
Alex's pupils contracted sharply.
"The FBI would like to ask you to come and assist us."
"What?!"
Wenner cried out, his voice so loud it startled everyone.
He stared at Chen Yuan with wide eyes, his face clearly saying, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Chen Yuan didn't discuss this matter with them before he came!
"Chen, what are you saying?"
Wenner lowered his voice, but couldn't hide his shock.
Chen Yuan glanced at him, his eyes as calm as a stagnant pool.
"What else can we do?"
He asked rhetorically.
"Three are dead now."
"Who's next? When will they die? How will they die?"
He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to the crowd.
"Alex can foresee death."
Chen Yuan's voice echoed in the room like a death knell.
"This is our only advantage right now."
He looked at Alex, his gaze as deep as two wells.
"Would you be willing to help?"
Alex remained silent for a long time.
He felt that everyone's eyes were on him.
Those eyes held expectation, fear, doubt, and pleading.
Finally, he looked at Chen Yuan.
The man stood by the window, his back to the city lights, his face hidden in the shadows, his expression unreadable.
"...good.
""
Alex heard his own voice, dry, hoarse, but firm.
"I'll help."
Chen Yuan nodded.
"Then it's settled."
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