Backlund, East Borough, in a two-room apartment.

A few policemen in black-and-white checkered uniforms opened the door and entered. All of them reached out to cover their mouths.

There was a strong stench of blood inside!

“Officer, I’ve no idea what happened. Other tenants said that it seems like there’s plenty of blood here that they can even smell it from next door.” The landlord with a silk top hat looked around in fear, unwilling to stay in the room for another second.

A black-haired, blue-eyed police officer with an inspector epaulet waved his hand and said, “Wait by the door. We still have questions for you.”

As he spoke, he wore his white gloves and cast his gaze towards the wooden door of the bedroom.

However, he wasn’t in a rush to enter. He slowly surveyed the area and visually took in the surroundings-a pile of coal, a cupboard with cutlery and food, a small stove, a cleanly washed iron pot, a somewhat greasy table, two collapsed circular stools, two slanted chairs, a few glass bottles with unknown powders, and a stack of scattered tarot cards.

“A mysticism enthusiast with an ordinary financial situation?” The black-haired, blue-eyed inspector nodded gently as he made a judgment. Then, he signaled for a subordinate to open the bedroom door.

With a creak, a stronger smell of blood gushed out.

The constable who opened the door looked in and let out a short exclamation as he repeatedly retreated.

The inspector frowned. He pressed the retreating constable’s shoulders, circled around him, and approached the bedroom.

When he swept his gaze, his expression immediately changed.

In the bedroom, on a wooden bed, there was a man lying there. His hands were tied to the bedpost.

He was naked with deep and shallow marks on his body. His blood had long been drained, dyeing the bedsheet and blanket beside him dark red.

On a cursory glance, the deceased had apparently been bound by metal wire, cutting into his skin and flesh, right into his bones.

This scene still affected the policemen who had seen many murder scenes. Furthermore, it had a diabolical feeling like it was a ritual.

As the inspector was about to say something, two people rushed into the room. One of them attempted to take photos while the other bombarded him with questions.

“Another murder case?

murder

do you think it’s a serial

inspector frowned and waved his

we will view you as the criminal’s

please escort the two reporters away.

of the crime scene, the inspector let out

on the newspapers

Borough, the opulent villa

abused before being killed…” Having had

Earl Hall shook his head and

there are people dying every day

the matter. After a casual chat with her

exchanging of words. The latter stood by the door as a guard while Audrey locked the door.

dark

coming inside

saw a small room to the side. The mottled door was

However, this doesn’t match Mr. World’s character. Did something happen to his state of mind? In thought, Audrey entered the room and closed

had a follow-up appointment with The World Gehrman Sparrow and concluded that he had fully recovered. To her surprise, she received a request from him for another

puzzled as she felt

dark room, Audrey leaned against the wall that obviously had another person behind it.

the calm and serene atmosphere, she adjusted her state of mind and said with a brisk tone, “Good evening,

situation with his Body of Heart

different from the last one… What happened this

was the most useful power of a Psychiatrist. In ancient times, it was

the wall scattered significantly. Gehrman Sparrow

the wall, Audrey thought and canceled her original plan. She maintained her brisk tone and

anything else. Let’s have a chat

also willing to share with you

of the wall, Gehrman Sparrow fell silent for a moment.

darted slightly to the side as she replied seriously, “To advance myself, to work hard to become

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