Tujea must admit that he still has doubts.

He climbed up the stairs hand and foot, and by chance, a night wind with a strong smell of blood came to his face, instantly extinguishing his desire to breathe ordinary air.

Tujea coughed unbearably, his lungs rebelling, denouncing him for his actions tonight.

If they could speak, they would probably scold Tujea and ask him in confusion why he was chasing screams after screams in the night like a madman

In fact, his whole body is doing it.

At the same time, a large amount of blood spread down the steps, soaking his hands and bringing a cold stickiness. The blood had lost all its temperature, just like the body temperature of its owner.

Tujea climbed the last step of the stairs wearily, touching the ground with his knees without any image, and slowly stood up against a collapsed white wall. He coughed and looked around, his throat tickled from the cold, and then he saw a corpse.

Ah, great, another massacre. What more can I expect?

Tujea slowly lowered his arm, and the muzzle of the gun naturally lowered to the ground.

Not far from him, a man who had lost his helmet and an arm lay in a pool of blood, his face full of fear, his face contorted into a terrible vortex that could not be described or described, in which all emotions were destroyed by despair.

However, Tujea did not see any signs of torture in him. The heavy armor and uniform he wore on his body were still intact, if he didn't care about the vanished arm.

Wait, how did he die? Tujea suddenly realized the problem.

He walked over to the man and began to observe him carefully. A corpse slowly slid down from the flagpole behind him, limping to the ground.

Tujea lowered his head and stared intently at the distorted face, and after a few seconds, he came to a conclusion.

The cause of this man's death was not in the ripped off right hand, he was scared to death.

But how is this possible?

A voice suddenly sounded from behind him: "You're late, investigator. ”

Tujea's face twitched violently, and he controlled his body strongly, not allowing himself to turn around, but slowly straightened up and behaved calmly.

"Why don't you speak?" Zell asked.

Do you like to pop up behind someone's back?" Tujea asked slowly, only then did he turn around.

The giant, whose armor was still neat and clean, was staring down at him, his hands clasped to his chest, but there was not a trace of dust in his blood-stained claws. His posture should have presented a sense of detachment and indifference, but Tujea strangely saw a sense of anticipation and patience.

He frowned, about to say something, but Zell opened his mouth just before he could speak, interrupting him in a very soft tone.

"I'm just checking your alertness."

"I don't see the need for this kind of testing."

"Why? Shouldn't an investigator be on his or her toes at all times? ”

Tujea sighed visibly.

"You're an Astarte, Lord Zell. And I'm just an ordinary investigator, isn't it a bit inappropriate for you to apply your standards to me? ”

Zell seemed to laugh, his helmet turning the chuckle into a muffled echo that slowly escaped in the night wind.

"Not soon, Lord Tujea."

Tujea was stunned, and for a moment he didn't even know whether to object to an Astarte calling him an adult, or to ask what he meant by the phrase 'soon won't'.

However, Zell didn't give him that chance, and he turned around and walked in a certain direction. At the end of the path he had chosen, a large mansion was waiting silently in the dark.

Tujea hurried to catch up, his expression still confused. There was so much going on tonight that he couldn't comprehend. No matter how much he forced himself to ignore the doubts, his reason would still whisper in his heart.

The most irritating thing is that every time he tries to think, something new arises that prevents him from doing it. Like Zell's appearance, his slaughter, and the incessant screams.

And then there's now.

Tujea suddenly stopped, he clutched his chest, his face had become very ugly.

He smelled an indescribable, terrible stench. He didn't realize it at first, until now. The terrible stench had almost completely destroyed his sense of smell, and his nasal cavity had been completely taken over by it.

Tujea opened his mouth in pain and gulped down the air as if drowning. Zell silently turned his head and threw two eerie yellow glows at him.

Another voice sounded in the darkness.

"Horst said he was funny. Now it seems that this assessment needs to be corrected. It would seem biased to use only the word funny to describe our Mr. Investigator. What do you think, Zell? ”

Zell took off his helmet and took a deep breath of air in enjoyment. He shook his head with a smirk and said, "I think it's too much, sir. ”

"I don't think so." With these words, another tall shadow slowly walked out of the darkness. He also didn't have a helmet on, and his eyes were pitch black, not a trace of white.

"What about the others?"

"Tracing the trail." 'Your Excellency' replied slowly, his eyes already turning to Tujea, who was still in pain.

"Tracing the trail? What's new again? Zell asked, surprised.

"Oh, we do know something, but it's not new, my brother. It's just that the bureaucrats and aristocrats collude with each other, and the enemies of chaos are secretly haunting, what's so strange? When is this not the case? ”

The 'sir' replied with a smile, as if he didn't care. He still looked at Tujea, but the investigator didn't react. He was already on his knees, clutching his neck and trying to breathe.

He hadn't heard their conversation at all, and his ears were filled with a thin buzzing sound. His eyesight was fairly clear, but he wasn't in the mood to observe them.

Tujea just wants to breathe right now.

He struggled to make attempts, each inhaling harder than the last. The power of a man in the face of life and death is incomprehensible to them, at least Tujea never felt that he had such a thirst for life.

He tried again and again, and he didn't know how long it took, but the buzzing in his ears finally subsided, and the air he inhaled was no longer full of stench, but real air. Even though it still smelled of blood, Tujea felt the urge to shed tears.

He fell to his knees weakly, but was immediately pulled up.

Zell's scarlet prosthetic eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, and Tujea looked at him for a few seconds before nodding feebly.

Zell responded with a smile on his pale face. He let go of his hand so that Tujea could try to stand on his own, but his left hand slowly raised.

"I know you have a lot of doubts tonight, and the investigator will look there, and your doubts will be solved."

Tujea barely looked up and looked down his raised left hand, his pupils shrinking.

He saw a man who had lost his hands and feet, and whose face had been peeled off. The robe he was wearing was completely soaked with blood and hung on his graceful body.

Wait, can this crippled state really be called beautiful?

Tujea frowned in disbelief, a little skeptical that he was crazy. He began to scrutinize the man, who was not dead but was uttering a low scream, but once again affirmed his conclusion.

Yes, even if he is crippled, his body is still beautiful.

The blood-soaked silk robe hung lightly from his body, tightly connected to his skin. The muscle lines are very clear, but the fat part is also perfect. The slightly undulating lower abdomen and stomach formed a wonderful hollow in which blood vibrated and rippled with each trembling of the body.

Tujea suddenly lowered his head and began to vomit.

"Congratulations, you made it through." Zell gently patted him on the back with a reassuring gesture. "Don't worry too much, these guys who are addicted to sensory stimulation are just a little bit of ability, they can't affect you, as long as you still believe in the emperor, or."

He chuckled lightly, and walked toward the man who was not yet dead.

Tujea looked up uncomfortably in his watery vomit, and he began to cough again, his throat burning with fire. But, despite all the discomfort, Tujea still set his sights on Zell and the man.

At this moment, his vision suddenly blurred for a moment, something that had never happened before. Before he could get used to the blur, strange points of light appeared in his world.

Tujea blinked uncomfortably and began to wonder if something was wrong with his eyes. Five seconds later, he completely overturned this conclusion.

No, it's not that there's something wrong with his eyesight, it's something wrong with the world, otherwise how can we explain those illusory shadows that suddenly appeared?

They all looked like children, all dressed in white uniforms, with hateful expressions, and in unison they stretched out their left hands, pointing at Zelno, at the man lying on the ground.

"It's him." The shadows suddenly spoke in unison. "He ate us, investigator."

What? Tujea looked at them in a daze, not understanding what was happening, the shadows looked at him, and at this moment, a thousand voices rang out in unison, blasting into his mind like a hammer, and with it many images, many images that he had never experienced before.

"They lied to us. They came to the house in uniform and mentioned the charity."

A man and a woman stand in front of a wooden door, dressed in neat black robes with kind smiles on their faces.

"They say that the charity can teach us knowledge, provide us with clothes and food, as long as we are willing to do things for the Moran family in adulthood, but that's just a lie."

A white room, full of beds, on which many children lay as if they were dead, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

Tujea instinctively took a step to get closer to them, but a burst of white light suddenly hit him, obscuring his vision.

Intense pain came from above his head, and he let out a silent scream of unbearable pain, and the white light changed at this moment, turning into a blinding white light, and a blade that shimmered brightly.

It slowly approached him, past his eyes, and close to his forehead.

The pain hit, and so did some voices.

"Increase the anesthetic, why did she wake up?"

Tujea clenched his fists and burst into tears in pain, not knowing if it was because of the pain or something else.

A pair of illusory hands lifted his face at this moment, alleviating his pain. In the midst of his tears, Tujea saw a girl whose face was unreal, except for the eyes, which were burning.

She let go of her hand, took a step back, and raised her left hand again, pointing at Chupani Moran.

"It's him." She said softly, her voice still immature.

Tujea began to gasp for air.

"It was he who licked our eye sockets and curled our eyes away with his long tongue. It is He who chews our teeth, rips out our throats, and tears our cheeks. He ate us clean, sir, he did it, he did."

Yes, that's him.

Tujea's hands began to tremble, groping wildly on the ground. Seconds later, with a burst of cold, he grabbed his gun.

Zell spoke in a low voice not far away, as soft as the murmur of the dead, escaping in the night wind.

"Chupani Moran." He called out his name. "Do you have any repentance?"

The man didn't answer, his facial muscles twitching. Extreme pain brought extreme pleasure, destroying the mind and body of this Chaos believer, causing him to fall prematurely into a living hell that was unwilling to move without stimulation.

Zell nodded unexpectedly, lifted him off the ground, and turned around.

A bullet whizzed in, piercing Chupani Moran's skull.

"Die! Die! Tujea roared to his feet, continuing to pull the trigger as he ran towards the body, which was no longer alive.

He used all his bullets until Chupani Moran was a mess of flesh and blood. The Katahan MK3's firepower may not pose a threat to heavily armored enemies, but it is a true weapon of death when facing flesh and blood.

Zell let go of his hand, letting the corpse fall to the ground. Tujea roared and lunged at him, his right fist raised in the air, but it didn't fall.

Zell crouched down and tilted his head to look at him.

"Look." He smiled suddenly. "That's why I say you're not an investigator anytime soon."

Tujea didn't answer, just slowly lowered his fist and after a few more seconds, he finally spoke.

"There are still living children." He grabbed his hat and slowly stood up, and walked towards the mansion with vague steps, muttering uncontrollably. "I saw it, and there were still alive, and they were underground"

Zell didn't stop him, just watched him disappear into the darkness little by little. He clasped his hands and shook his head at the darkness.

"Why are you shaking your head?" The 'Lord' in the dark asked.

"Isn't that a bit too much impact for him?" Zell asked, thoughtfully.

"What do you mean? Is it the souls he sees, or the resting children he is about to see? ”

"All of them," Zell sighed and stopped talking.

(End of chapter)