Matt refused to give the younger man a full reaction to that statement - or any reaction, really. He had the upper hand here, the brunet knew, and he wasn't about to give it away. So it's not English that I'm hearing everyone speaking, he resolved, his eyes narrowing at empty space, off to the side, as he contemplated. He spoke fluent Japanese, yes - one of the many advantages of being brought up in a House like Wammy's - but at that exact moment, he could swear he was listening to Ishida speak English to him. To be honest, he was somewhat ashamed that he hadn't wondered about the varying origins the other "patients" seemed to come from; not everyone in the world spoke perfect English, like he'd been hearing them speak since his arrival in Landel's house of weird.
He'd noticed, his first day, that Minako was a Japanese high school student. Why, then, had he been so all right with her speaking fluent English? All right, so it was more than likely that she'd learnt such grammatically correct English in a top knotch school in her country, but she'd even greeted him in English. Now that he thought back on the entire situation, it should have set off some bells.
But it hadn't.
Matt silently berated himself as he tried to think of how to handle answering this particular line of questioning. There was really no other conclusion for him to come to, based on this new information, other than that Landel had to have some sort of mechanism at work, right at that moment - something with the ability to alter brainwaves, or some shit along those lines, to give everyone in the facility the impression that they were hearing everyone else speaking their own native language. Which, strangely enough, wasn't an illusion; they were actually having a coherent conversation, one in which both parties were speaking completely different languages and hearing the responses in the one they needed to hear to understand fully.
"Nah," he finally responded, "the language doesn't screw up all the time." In his own mind, he was starting to sound paranoid even to himself, so he wasn't entirely sure if broaching this subject with someone he didn't trust as far as he could throw him was a good idea. Probably not. Mello, though... That was when he decided their next course of action, and Mello could throw a hissy fit all he liked, but Matt had himself convinced that Landel had to be somewhere in the building, controlling all these mechanisms. They needed to find him, but he wasn't on the second or first floor - of that he was sure, and Mello had probably figured it out already as well. That meant that there was either a basement or a third floor - or both.
Only one way to find out, really.
"I'm not sure why they messed up last night," he answered, honestly for once. "There doesn't really seem to have been anything for the crazy doctor to gain from it, to be honest. Maybe it was just to fuck with us?" The idea seemed plausible to Matt. Landel seemed like your run-of-the-mill mad scientist; who knew what was going through the man's head? "The man on the intercom was probably the one who did it. He's the sadistic bastard who runs the place and kidnaps the most random people you've ever met right out of their beds." The brunet was pretty satisfied with that explanation of the Head Doc.
"Every night so far, it's been something different though." He finally took another bite of the french toast, before it got too soggy. "My first night here, the doors went mad. You'd open one, and it'd lead somewhere completely different than it was supposed to. One of them actually opened up into downtown Tokyo." Matt glanced away. He didn't enjoy mentioning that event, and he wanted to make it obvious that he wasn't going to go into detail. "But they were just fine the next morning." A shrug. "Go figure."
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He'd noticed, his first day, that Minako was a Japanese high school student. Why, then, had he been so all right with her speaking fluent English? All right, so it was more than likely that she'd learnt such grammatically correct English in a top knotch school in her country, but she'd even greeted him in English. Now that he thought back on the entire situation, it should have set off some bells.
But it hadn't.
Matt silently berated himself as he tried to think of how to handle answering this particular line of questioning. There was really no other conclusion for him to come to, based on this new information, other than that Landel had to have some sort of mechanism at work, right at that moment - something with the ability to alter brainwaves, or some shit along those lines, to give everyone in the facility the impression that they were hearing everyone else speaking their own native language. Which, strangely enough, wasn't an illusion; they were actually having a coherent conversation, one in which both parties were speaking completely different languages and hearing the responses in the one they needed to hear to understand fully.
"Nah," he finally responded, "the language doesn't screw up all the time." In his own mind, he was starting to sound paranoid even to himself, so he wasn't entirely sure if broaching this subject with someone he didn't trust as far as he could throw him was a good idea. Probably not. Mello, though... That was when he decided their next course of action, and Mello could throw a hissy fit all he liked, but Matt had himself convinced that Landel had to be somewhere in the building, controlling all these mechanisms. They needed to find him, but he wasn't on the second or first floor - of that he was sure, and Mello had probably figured it out already as well. That meant that there was either a basement or a third floor - or both.
Only one way to find out, really.
"I'm not sure why they messed up last night," he answered, honestly for once. "There doesn't really seem to have been anything for the crazy doctor to gain from it, to be honest. Maybe it was just to fuck with us?" The idea seemed plausible to Matt. Landel seemed like your run-of-the-mill mad scientist; who knew what was going through the man's head? "The man on the intercom was probably the one who did it. He's the sadistic bastard who runs the place and kidnaps the most random people you've ever met right out of their beds." The brunet was pretty satisfied with that explanation of the Head Doc.
"Every night so far, it's been something different though." He finally took another bite of the french toast, before it got too soggy. "My first night here, the doors went mad. You'd open one, and it'd lead somewhere completely different than it was supposed to. One of them actually opened up into downtown Tokyo." Matt glanced away. He didn't enjoy mentioning that event, and he wanted to make it obvious that he wasn't going to go into detail. "But they were just fine the next morning." A shrug. "Go figure."