Mo Yi subconsciously turned his head and looked behind him.
The dust covered wooden door was tightly closed and fit snugly together with the warped uneven door frame.
Under the crooked letters, very tiny bloody handprints were piled up together, layer upon layer, leaving behind horrifying marks on the filthy indistinct door panels.
Not knowing whether or not it was his illusion, Mo Yi always felt that these bloody handprints … seemed to have increased.
He took a deep breath, forced himself to fling aside the vague emerging warning signs to the back of his mind, and then lowered his head, picking up the rolled-up paper and stood up.
Under the fingertips came a rough and centuries old tactile sensation.
To one’s surprise, it was rather thick.
Mo Yi’s lips pursed, hands stretched out to spread open the paper.
In a flash, dust filled the air, dancing with quick light steps under the dim wall lamp, obscuring his vision.
Mo Yi choked, slightly coughing, hands vigorously shaking off the dust, and then intently looked at his hands.
To his surprise, this was actually a photo.
This was a group photo.
Extremely wrinkled, covered in stains.
The most distinct were the many small irregular brown spots on it, looking like it was sprayed upwards.
Mo Yi was taken aback, and hurriedly looked at the lower left corner of the photo.
There was exactly one corner missing.
Mo Yi’s heart beat wildly, causing him to subconsciously hold his breath.
He knew which picture this was.
It was precisely the photo that was in the photo frame hanging inside the dark room underground.
After the massacre, it was hurriedly torn down and replaced with the woman who was sent off to the gallows.
Those tiny brown spots on it were the sprayed bloodstains of the orphans.
Mo Yi rummaged through his backpack and pulled out the photo that had one corner torn off, took a deep breath, and then slowly moved it closer to the photo.
Angle to angle, seam to seam.
— It was a perfect fit.
That photo was completely mended.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection.
If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Beside the group of children stood a familiar figure: a tall, upright, and stern woman dressed in a plain and simple black dress as usual, appearing cold and unkind.
Standing by her side were several women who also looked like nurses, all with apathetic and indifferent expressions.
On the other side of the orphans, a figure standing out from the masses, caught Mo Yi’s eyes.
He was a man of medium build, neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, appearing mediocre with practically no distinguishing feature or characteristics.
He stood in the corner of the crowd, showing a good natured, smiling expression at the camera.
Mo Yi noticed that the man’s hand was placed casually on the shoulder of an orphan beside him, and the orphan’s limbs were obviously rigid, one shoulder distinctly raised high, one low, as if wanting to escape his touch.
Through the blurry yellowed photo, the emotions written on the child’s face was clearly visible —
Mo Yi’s breathing was sluggish.
Could this be the reason why the little girl made this her reward …
Because the real manager of this orphanage was in this photo
Mo Yi’s heart was beating faster.
He carefully looked at the man in the photo.
However, the small half of the man’s face was stained with tiny spots of brown blood, making one can’t help but have some diaphragmatic response.
He stretched out his hand and vigorously wiped the surface of the rough and uneven photo.
The stagnant floating dust was roused by his movements, rising in the air.
However, perhaps due to it being centuries old, the brown blood stain stayed firmly on the surface of the photo, showing no signs of loosening at all.
Mo Yi didn’t have much hope, so he stopped worrying about it.
Instead, he carefully sized up the photo from top to bottom all over.
After confirming that he hadn’t dropped any leads, he re-rolled the photo, placed it inside the backpack, and then with raised legs walked out.
Passing through the dark and long corridor, as he was about to reach the hall, Mo Yi heard a voice whispering from inside the hall.
With a tight heart, his pace hurriedly quickened, walking towards the faint light at the end of the corridor.
As soon as he arrived at the hall, Mo Yi became speechless because of astonishment.
— Another victim.
This time, it was the newcomer who decided to follow Zhao Yicheng and the others.
Her face was looking upwards, having fallen on her back on the ground of the hall, limbs twisted under her own body like a broken doll.
The gurgling blood slowly spread from under her body, as if flowers of death were blooming little by little.
She had a large hole in her chest and cracked head.
From the wounds, it was possible to see the white bones and internal organs as well as the red and white brain inside the shattered skull.
She stared at the ceiling with a pair of broken, cloudy eyes which were unable to be closed in death.
Large swaths of blood left dirty marks on the sides of her deathly white, distorted face.
Mo Yi’s eyes were tinged with a heavy look: Unlike the several other deaths, this manner of killing … was almost like torture.
At this moment, he was patted hard on the shoulder.
Mo Yi turned his head, only to see Wang Zezhi standing behind him, panting.
He cut an extremely sorry figure, clothes hanging wrinkled on his body, hair a complete mess, covered in dust from head to toe as if he had rolled around on the ground.
He clasped his lower back with his hands, back bowed, urgently gasping for air, unable to speak.
Mo Yi stretched out his hand to help him up but was staggered by Wang Zezhi’s weight.
He let go of his hand as if nothing had happened, changing directions to pat Wang Zezhi on the back to help smooth his breathing.
At this moment, Mo Yi discovered that on Wang Zezhi’s neck was a circular swollen and bruised strangulation mark that was still slowly bleeding, looking exceptionally striking on the pale skin.
His gaze paused imperceptibly.
Wang Zezhi took a few quick breaths, finally able to control the state of breathlessness.
He swallowed a mouthful of saliva and then still suffering from fright, said, “Just now, I …”
As soon as the words came out, he and Mo Yi were startled at the same time.
Wang Zezhi’s originally warm voice had become very hoarse, similar to a broken gong, coarse like gravel, pressing painfully against the ears of the listener.
Wang Zezhi coughed a few times and cleared his throat, voice returning to its previous tone.
Although it was still hoarse, at least it didn’t scare people.
“Just now … I went to the Dean’s Room.”
When Mo Yi heard the words, his eyes became serious.
He straightened, stared at Wang Zezhi, and asked, “What happened”
He composed himself and slightly stammered, “Now I know how difficult it was for you to get the timetable last time … I … I ran into a woman.” A trace of fear flashed on top of Wang Zezhi’s face.
He took a deep breath, subconsciously stroking his throat.
“I … I almost planted there.”
Mo Yi was taken aback.
“Then, afterwards, you …”
Wang Zezhi smiled bitterly, palm spread open.
A very small, charred doll lay in the palm of his hand.
The whole doll’s head was at a crooked angle, tilted downwards, and there were very visible strangulation marks on the neck.
He said, “It’s also my greatest prop … if it wasn’t for this item exchanged for in the in-game store to help me block it, I’m afraid I would have been planted there.”
After that, Wang Zezhi paused, and looked up at Mo Yi with some doubts.
“You didn’t bring any other props in, right, ba … How did you end up getting out in one piece”
Mo Yi was taken aback when he heard the words, and subconsciously touched his tightly bandaged left hand.
In fact, it didn’t hurt so much now, so much so that it was possible to do some simple movements.
There was no other option but to say that “Song Qi’s” bone setting technique was really good.
Mo Yi’s eyelashes lowered, concealing the complex look at the bottom of his eyes.
When he raised his eyes again, his face had regained its usual calmness and rationality.
Mo Yi unobtrusively looked around the entire hall: Song Qi wasn’t there.
He wasn’t very surprised.
After all, at the beginning, he had such considerations when proposing to act separately.
Mo Yi’s lips pursed, once more looking at Wang Zezhi, revealing a faint smile and vaguely said, “Probably … good luck, ba.”
Seeing his answer, Wang Zezhi couldn’t keep asking.
At this moment, Wang Zezhi seemed to think of something.
His eyes instantly lit up and he looked at Mo Yi, mood somewhat stirred up.
“However, this encounter with danger wasn’t without its rewards.”
After that, he unzipped his backpack with hands that were shaking a little from excitement and took out a wrinkled document from the bag.
Mo Yi’s frowned, slightly confused.
He clearly remembered that the last time he was in the Dean’s Room, he had basically flipped over most of the documents.
Then, these were new clues …
Suddenly, Mo Yi seemed to have thought of something.
He looked at Wang Zezhi with burning eyes and asked in a somewhat urgent tone, “When you entered the Dean’s Room this time, what was it like inside”
Wang Zezhi was startled by Mo Yi’s unprompted question, and answered, slightly unable to make sense of the matter, “Well … it looked just like an ordinary office, ah.
After I went in, this document happened to be arranged right on the middle of the table.
The moment I took it … right away …”
“Was attacked right away” Mo Yi took over the conversation without warning.
“Um… yes.” Wang Zezhi stroked the back of his head, puzzled, then nodded hesitantly.
Mo Yi’s eyes flashed with deep contemplation.
The time he entered the Dean’s Room, he turned the whole office upside down.
The tables and chairs were all knocked over.
Even the bookshelf was pushed to the ground by him.
And since Wang Zezhi said that what he saw was a normal office, it meant that after opening the side mission — the Dean’s Room, like the other rooms in this orphanage, had undergone the same changes.
There was no other option but to admit that Wang Zezhi risked his life getting this information.
The lines of Mo Yi’s face softened a bit, and he took the document from Wang Zezhi’s hand, and when he opened it to read, his gaze accidentally flicked across his watch.
The alarm clock he set didn’t go off.
— The orphanage’s dining bell also didn’t ring.