The third floor of Rodin Villa was dim and blood-red.
The bathtub in the center of the room was now completely empty. The tubful of blood that had once filled it had vanished, yet bloody footprints marked the floor beside it.
The footprints extended toward the room's bathroom. Before the bathroom mirror stood a man whose entire body dripped with thick blood. He had no skin and no hands.
"Haha, impressive. Truly impressive. That cowardly old chef is dead too. Haha, only the last two remain. I don't expect them to kill those bitches in the lake. They just need to kill that disgusting painter."
With laughter, the man turned into a streak of blood and flew toward the room's window. Watching the dawn sky outside, his tongue slowly slid across his upper lip.
Back in his bedroom, Zhang Chen looked at the phone on the bedside table. It read 2:14. In other words, everything had taken only an hour.
"This Jia Xin used classmates who trusted him so completely as bait. If anyone became friends with him, they might not even know how they died."
Thinking of Hong Yi's delighted expression when he heard Zhang Chen was unharmed that afternoon, as well as Miao Shuangshuang's tearful, pitiful pleas in the middle of the night, Zhang Chen's heart felt as if it were being cut by knives.
"A thousand-mile dike can collapse because of an ant hole. Don't let small matters disrupt the greater goal." Little White's voice sounded in Zhang Chen's right chest. "Nothing in this world is perfect. If we can kill the Blood Demon, we'll save thousands, even tens of thousands of lives."
Zhang Chen walked to the window and gazed at the hazy moon in the dead of night. He let out a deep sigh