The Vigil (3)

Like Zhao Mou, everyone who knew each other was trying to find ways to establish connections between their roles.

However, some roles were destined to be incompatible. For example, Song Xue's heiress and Quinn's bandit. Forget working together—the bandit would have to make a real effort just to keep from manhandling and verbally threatening the heiress.

After a while, everyone split up.

There was no time limit for this mission, and no one planned to claim their target corpse right away. Even without being reminded, they all knew how dangerous the mission was.

What if the corpses had different identities, and choosing the wrong one meant death?

No matter what, they planned to gather as much information as possible before starting the mission. Perhaps the way to avoid every wrong answer and clear the mission safely was hidden somewhere in the funeral home.

Zhao Yijiu picked a side room without any corpses in it, then sat at a dusty table and let Zhao Mou bandage his wounds.

Without a Deductionist's physical abilities, his wounds healed extremely slowly. He had deep cuts on his arm and the back of his hand. He hadn't paid them much attention, but when he pulled off the haphazardly wrapped strips of cloth, he discovered that both wounds had festered.

Zhao Mou's brow furrowed slightly.

"What a brute."

Zhao Yijiu shrugged without comment, barely managing to swallow back a teasing "Big brother."

Zhao Mou told him to bear with it, then took a small knife from his travel bag and cut away the dead flesh. As he scraped, he scolded him.

"You people are the biggest headache for doctors. Don't you care about your own bodies at all? Let's see how you'll fight once you're rotting away and can't move. By then, you can regret it