Revenge After Death

Chapter 37

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I hurried over because the police found something

My memories of my death were already unclear. Some memories became blurry after awakening from unconsciousness, only to fall back into it again.

All I knew was that I was drugged on an old street. When I awoke, I was in a dimly lit warehouse, where I was stuffed in a wooden makeshift transport crate.

The crate was filled with hay, which seemed to be used to transport porcelain or fragile items.

Zion

discovered an iron gate covered by weeds in the southeast corner of the welfare home. The gate was rusty, but the grass on the ground had shown signs of frequent movement. Even the lock was newly replaced.

“We searched here last time, but the grass was too tall. We couldn’t have found it without careful observation,” Zion’s colleague said in surprise.

As Zion glanced around, he noticed Steve, who had sneaked into the yard at some point.

“When did he get over there?”

“Who knows? This man comes and goes like a shadow. I saw him jumping over in a swift move,” the colleague said with exasperation.

He never knew that Steve could be so agile as to jump over walls so easily.

Rachel and I followed behind Zion, who pried open the lock and entered the yard. It was a courtyard within the abandoned welfare home, usually where the director or other high–ranking officials

resided.

spacious and looked desolate after

tightly to Rachel, who was always braver than me. No matter what happened,

drugged me and brought me here.”

began to suspect reasonably that the serial killer was not acting alone. Steve definitely had an accomplice. He was a murderer who was too good

was filled. with many wooden crates used for logistics transport,

breath became rapid as I

was where I was locked up by that person when I woke up

Steve’s face. He had been searching around the room

Chapter 37

and finally picked up an

the same ax in the corner, with dried bloodstains still on it.

Landon, there’s an

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over and looked around before stating, “There are traces of dragging here,

bandages and clothing

strands of hair in this wooden

senior. He inspected the scene meticulously, afraid of missing any traces.

wooden crate where I was previously held captive, he found several strands of hair entangled with the nails. Those were my hairs

remember crawling out in a daze, wanting to escape. But the person wearing a hood had grabbed my hair and covered my

a cold, operating table–like surface. Blood was being drained from

couldn’t see the murderer’s face. I could only feel my blood slowly draining

once again, I was…

some reason, when I woke, my soul was at the Ford residence.

idea where the primary crime

Michael called out from outside.

y soul slowly

pointing to one corner with a pale face. A pair