The middle-aged man's eyes were full of red blood, thick as if he was about to drip blood. He turned his gaze to the half-pulled desk drawer, where a scalpel lay.
He stepped forward, ripped open the drawer, took out the scalpel inside, and stabbed the tip of the knife into his face.
Blood kept pouring out along his face, as if he couldn't feel the pain, he dug out the piece of flesh.
While digging, he also laughed, the laughter was crazy and terrifying. But soon, his laughter stopped.
The meat he dug up fell to the ground, and the black marks on it disappeared. At the same time, the trace appeared on the other side of his cheek.
The burning on the other side of his cheek was like a button, instantly suspending all his movements.
After a few seconds, he shouted and inserted the scalpel into the desk, his face twisted and hideous.
"Master of the Seven Love Bowls!" He said word by word, as if chewing the flesh and blood of the other party.
At this moment, the phone ringing suddenly rang in the white coat still hanging on his body. He pinched the phone and saw the number flashing on it, and the veins on his forehead jumped up.
"Do you still like my meeting gift?"
On the other end of the receiver, Tang Susu's voice came over.
"what did you do to me?"
"I didn't do anything, just linked your life with that of my little guest. I don't think you would mind, right?"
"If I mind."
Tang Susu's voice became colder, "Then you will have to accompany me for two hundred and eighteen years of life. I don't mind the dealer taking it all."
The grim face a moment ago was suddenly full of smiles the next second, "Don't worry, I will definitely stay away from your little guests in the future."
"Of course I believe your promise, then, bye."
The phone was hung up, the middle-aged man put the phone back in his pocket, then hung the white coat on the hook at the door, picked up the human skin mask thrown on the ground, patted it, and put it back on his face.
After smoothing out the wrinkles on the human skin mask, he became Dr. Wu again.
"Mr. Chen's reward is really not that easy to get." He murmured in a low voice, opened the door, and left with graceful steps.
Walking out of the hospital, an extended Bentley stopped beside him.
The car window lowered, revealing a well-dressed old man, who nodded slightly towards the other side, "The owner is waiting for you."
Dr. Wu's eyes flickered slightly, and he got into the car.
The luxurious car was driving fast on the road, and soon, it came to Chen's house.
Seeing the employer sitting on the amazingly priced leather sofa, the chef showed his usual bright smile, "It's been a while, you look really good."
With a straight black suit, Chen Dongsheng, who was clearly sitting on the ground but pressed the other's head, looked at the chef with a blank expression, and said coldly, "You missed it."
The chef's smile remained unchanged, and he spread out his hands, "Didn't I already follow your request to get rid of the escaped canary?"
Chen Dongsheng was silent, his fingertips tapped lightly on the sofa, neither hurried nor slow.
After a long while, I heard him speak again, "Her death did not allow me to achieve my goal."
The chef smiled, "Mr. Chen, I remember I told you before that the probability of success is only 70%. Obviously, you are not among the 70%."
"Is that really the case?" Chen Dongsheng turned his eyes and looked at the chef.
His eyes were cold, but this did not shake the chef in the slightest, "You should trust my professionalism, since the death of that young lady has no effect on you, then let's switch to another more secure method. "
"I won't give you a second chance to argue." After speaking, Chen Dongsheng got up and said, "See off."
Butler Chen, who was standing in the corner like an invisible man, stepped forward and bowed slightly to the chef, "Guests, please come this way."
The chef walked briskly out of the depressed Chen family's residence, and waited until the gaze on him disappeared completely, and the smile on his face gradually faded away.
He stopped, raised his slightly trembling hand, and wiped the sweat on the back of his neck.
He took out a handkerchief from his arms and wiped his hands, then threw the snow-white handkerchief to the side of the road. He raised his hand to touch the side of his face, and muttered in a low voice, "You have to bow your head when you are under the eaves!"
Walking slowly along the road that few vehicles pass by, it was not until late at night that he walked back to an abandoned house in the suburbs.
The window sash and door panels of the house he lives in have long since disappeared, and there are no lights around at night. People walking in are like walking into the bloody mouth of an evil beast.
quack-quack-
After he entered the house, a shrill and piercing bird chirped sounded.
In the corner of the room, a big black bird flapped its wings anxiously, and a pair of wings spread out for two or three meters.
If you look carefully, you will find that the length of the bird's head is as long as nine. There is also an extra cavity, which is constantly dripping blood to the ground.
The unpleasant smell in the room was from the blood.
The chef walked to the big bird, raised his hand to touch its head, but was pecked hard by one of its heads, and a blood hole suddenly appeared on the back of his hand.
Smelling the smell of blood, the rest of the heads scrambled to turn around, all wanting a piece of the pie.
"Oh, it's really gluttonous and ugly. How could your master like to keep a beast like you?"
There is still a smile in the chef's words, and his voice is soft, as if he is saying something compliment, rather than slowly and maliciously.
"Forget it, he gave you to me anyway, and I just don't like you that much."
As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his hand and grabbed the head that he had pecked on his hand just now. With a slight crack, the head drooped softly as if it had lost its support. down.
Then, one after another, until the last head dropped, and the bird made no sound.
The chef squatted beside the bird's huge body, patted it lightly, and said softly, "What's the use of having so many heads, you can't even hold a child's soul, it really is a waste!"
It didn't take long for a fire to be seen in the room from the outside. An unpleasant scorching smell wafted out of the house.
The chef squatted in front of the stove without the pot, and with one hand he used a wooden stick to gently fiddle with the firewood inside, while the other hand held a piece of meat that was roasted black on the outside but still dripping with blood on the inside. Stop biting with your mouth.
The lower half of his face was covered in blood and looked extremely terrifying.
When he ate the last bite of meat, the flames in the stove gradually disappeared, and the screen of the mobile phone placed on the ground lit up.
Two conversations are shown above:
- The nine-headed bird you gave me was so incompetent, I had to eat it.
—I reminded you not to act rashly.
The chef glanced at the phone screen and sneered.