In the mansion of Xiguo Manor, an operation that was not very well timed, but in the right place, had just been completed.

The chief knife, or the chief chisel, declined the invitation to discuss that night under the pretext of needing to rest after the construction was completed, left the scene, left the assistant to observe the patient's vital signs, and slipped himself to a remote, reserved small room.

A monk stayed in front of the door, keeping out all prying eyes. Next door is the temporary storage of the remains of the martyrs who can still be found on the spot after the attack; What is stored here is a corpse wrapped in multiple layers of cloth, and only the outline of a human figure can be seen.

With only a small amount of blood oozing from it, the fatal wound to the neck drained most of the circulating fluid on which it depended, and died within seconds, proving that the human component still made up a large part of it.

In between, a few loops of rope were tied around the figure and it was firmly fastened to a heavy solid wood table.

[As if afraid that it will come back to life]

That's what they say, but what they don't know is that this is what the hypothetical situation is.

However, now it seems that it is not necessary to fix too strong, and it also increases the difficulty of unpacking.

Kraft felt his hand on the tightly wrapped figure for a moment, and after making sure it showed no signs of movement, he locked the door and pulled out the scalpel from the table.

There were no extra instruments, including the knife, which was only used to cut knots and cloth for the time being. With only one example at the moment, it would be irrational to rush into destructive ways, not to mention that it might have to be accountable to the church.

Slightly picking up the package and slashing it down from the center, the knife made by the Xiguo family was sharp, and the fabric smoothly split into two sides and slid down, revealing a body that at first glance had no problems inside.

Judging by the exposed skin, you would probably think that the deceased was an elderly person. The folds are deep enough for tiny insects to hide in, loosely draped over their delicate limbs.

But at the same time, you will also find irrationality, the wrinkled skin has no pigmentation spots and is not too rough, and it can even be called smooth at a contemporary level, close to the middle-aged people with good living conditions.

Examination of the chest and abdomen reveals an overgrown cortex in the abdomen, with fleshy scales collapsing and layering.

It is reminiscent of the performance of excessive weight loss, the elastic support under the skin is reduced, and the skin that has not been able to keep up with the speed collapses, which is similar to the gradual drying and wrinkling of soft seafood.

But this performance is too significant, more like a ball with a valve core removed, the contents are consumed in large quantities and quickly, leaving a shriveled skin.

"Set yourself on fire, don't you?" There is probably no better way to burn fat, and if the process is controllable, I believe many people will go crazy about it.

The facial features of the deceased have been completely erased by this drastic change, and it may be difficult for anyone who is familiar with it to recognize the original appearance.

But the deep skinfold itself may be evidence that subcutaneous fat was once abundant, in other words, it turned out to be a fat man. It's a feature, after all, there aren't many fat people these days.

Kraft cut open the left sleeve and separated the threads of the garment that had been bonded to the wound, peeling the half-severed limb out of the sleeve tube.

It's hard to describe it as an "arm", it can only be called a new thing modeled after the human arm.

It appears that the long bones were amputated from the middle, but instead of healing in the normal way, a set of condyles and epiphyseal plates were constructed directly at the broken ends, forming new joints beyond the shoulders, elbows, and wrists.

To use an inappropriate analogy, Kraft felt like an earthworm disguised as a skeleton.

This earthworm-like new birth is not entirely equal. The fingers become so slender and jagged that you can even find a new knuckle that is forming and is smooth and tumorous at the end of the middle phalanx of the index finger.

The replicated metacarpal bones elongate the palm and hold up the tight skin. The extra carpal bones crowd together like tightly packed stones on an arched bridge, forcing the hand to take on an arched posture and the five fingers are folded together.

Overall, all the changes make the arm extremely flexible, able to make a few more bending, almost soft movements, and keep the bones supported.

Rather, it is a transformation, a direction away from human habit, more delicate and difficult to control.

With the opponent's thinking ability, he can't control the extra joints at all, and he can only use his limbs in a whip-like way and grab sharp weapons in the fight.

[What about when you are a multi-axis machine? 】

As it turns out, hardware is one thing, supporting control is another.

Kraft didn't understand the principle, and probably never will, figure it out, but this transformation trend looks quite familiar.

He lowered the subject's left upper limb and raised his right hand, the palm of the foreign object embedded in it.

The foreign object is embedded in the center of the palm; There was a hollow depression on the back of the hand, and the healing wound was condensed with unknown black particles, as if something had been embedded in the original.

It's easy to recognize a foreign object, after all, being familiar with it is like being familiar with your own palm prints.

The foreign body that has lost its luster is indeed close to the texture of a stone when it is calm, and the surface that has not been stained by dried blood is a dull gray, indescribably faint, as if the concept of color has also been washed away from above.

The stone flakes occupy the center of the palm, with some traces of artificial polishing, and the rest are irregular sections, which appear to be a small piece of large geometry, with crystalline burrs growing at the junction with the skin. This position is not very good and will affect most of the functions of the palm.

Kraft rolled up his left sleeve, something he had rarely done since a certain day. As the sleeve tube pulls up, some fine stony fragments appear on the cool, white skin that lacks sunlight, and small crystals grow around the edges.

[Same thing]

The difference between the two is that there are extra dark veins on the arms of the deceased.

A quick glance at the melee encounter, Kraft had thought it was some kind of nascent vasculature to feed nutrients or something, but now it seemed to be a misguess.

The location of these things coincided with a fraction of the superficial veins he could recognize, occupying the distal end of the arm.

After the death of life from this body, they still remained full, extremely incongruous against the contrast of the shrunken cortex, still full of contents, but without a sense of pulsation, as if they had been flowing back down the veins, frozen by the arrest of the heart.

Fingertips reach for the thing, stopping halfway through, and touching the back of the scalpel instead.

Instead of the imaginary blood vessels with fluid stagnancy, some of the walls inside hardened, like calcified blood vessels, and more resembled moist coarse gravel.

Kraft chose the smaller one and used the tip of the knife to pick the small opening. Some black liquid flows out, mixed with salt-like crystals of the same color.

Push down the book of the group friends, "The Abyssal Diver Under the High Wall"

_(:3⌒)_

There's something that traps humanity in an island-like city-state, and I like that kind of worldview.