Chapter 91: The Dismembered Dried Corpse

How can it be so fragile!

Fang Jun suddenly understood something, his hand reached forward and picked up the other arm, and sure enough, it was exactly the same as just now, the right hand that was originally on the corpse was actually easily broken by himself again!

"Damn, so cruel!" Fang Jun already understood that what was in front of him was no longer a complete corpse, but a dismembered corpse! Not only that, this corpse had no traces of blood, and it was even a dried corpse!

There was a rancid smell on the corpse, Fang Jun's sensitive nose smelled such a smell just now, pungent and unpleasant to make people faintly nauseated, although it was suppressed by a large amount of aromatherapy, but this unique smell still did not escape Fang Jun's sense of smell.

Fang Jun carefully took the body out of the cabinet and exposed it to the light, although the body was torn apart, it could still be distinguished from the shriveled □□ and the empty lower body, this was a woman, but her face had lost the oxygen supply of blood, and it had already been deformed and distorted, and there were obvious scratches on the dry skin, which seemed to be deliberately blurred by the murderer in order to prevent being recognized.

"Looks like he's still an expert in this area...... Fang Jun muttered to himself as he looked at the corpse.

Whether it is the complete process of dealing with the corpse, the concealment of the corpse, or even the handling of the smell, he is mature and sophisticated, if he is not an expert in this area, he must not be able to smell the strange smell hidden in the mind.

"Who the hell is this corpse......" Fang Jun looked at the corpse's destroyed face and fell into deep contemplation.

However, at this moment, it is not the time to think about this, this dried corpse is not a mistake to be placed here, at least it makes Fang Jun feel a little uneasy, after thinking about it, he put the corpse back in the cabinet and closed the wall, the wound on the wall just now could not be repaired, Fang Jun took off a painting on the wall, hung it up, and hid the position of the folds.

Walked out of the room again and quietly closed the door.

Without going back to his room directly, Fang Jun walked straight into the second room on the left again, quickly opened the bookcase, suddenly pulled out a book, opened it, and the pungent smell came to his face again.

Fang Jun frowned, endured the pungent rancid smell, and casually flipped through two pages, "This book is really old enough, this smell is a bit exaggerated, I'm afraid these books are a little old." ”

According to Amei, no one has lived in it for more than ten years, and these books should be more than ten years old.

Fang Jun inserted the book just now into the pile of books, took out another one, and frowned slightly, "It seems that no one has been here for too long, these books are really old enough." ”

While muttering, Fang Jun put the book back in the bookcase, what he was looking for seemed to be fruitless, a little disappointed, Fang Jun turned around, just took two steps, but there was a buzzing restlessness in his brain, top-heavy, if it weren't for his quick eyes and hands to float out of the wall, I was afraid that he would fall directly to the ground, and he couldn't hide!

It's the same feeling as just now, the sudden headache without warning, as if someone has given a stuffy stick from the back of the head, caught off guard, everything in the brain is empty, and even the sight in the eyes has been lost to see everything!

Fang Jun shook his head suddenly, barely sobering himself up, stumbling into the bedroom, drinking the cold water on the table, his brain gradually regained his consciousness, and sat on the bed, gasping for air.

Inexplicably, Fang Jun smiled bitterly and laughed at himself, "It's not that there really is some evil spirit in that room." ”

The old book in his hand continued to look through, but the more he looked at it, Fang Jun's face became worse and worse, and suddenly, without warning, he fell on the bed with a "plop", and the book in his hand slipped down the weak palm to the ground.

Syllable!