Scalpel

There were no clues to be found by staying here any longer. Seeing Bo Shuo about to leave, the other examinees obediently made way.

It was precisely this opening that allowed the NPCs, who had been unable to squeeze in to see the full scene, to witness what was happening inside.

What followed was a series of piercing, terrified screams.

They didn't know that the tall, thin man had already been dead for a long time, having long since mutated into a monster.

From the tragic scene inside, they could only realize one thing: their teammates, with whom they had spent so much time, had died miserably overnight.

And the killer was very likely...

A long-haired woman stared in horror at the young man slowly walking out of the crowd. His expression was calm, and the corners of his eyes, smudged by blood, were tinged with red.

His brows and eyes were stern, carrying a powerful killing intent.

He showed no emotion from killing, as if he weren't killing a living person, but an inanimate object devoid of life.

In fact, the knife in his hand was still dripping blood--

This is too terrifying, too terrifying.

(Emotion Points from NPC +99+99+99)

The man with the arm tattoo clearly knew more, but his lips trembled, and he didn't dare to say another word.

"Move aside," Bo Shuo's voice was cold. His deep purple eyes gazed down at them.

By the time the long-haired woman reacted, she had already consciously made way, cold sweat streaming down her back.

No one dared to step forward, except for one exception.

Xi Guici leaned against the doorframe, idly twirling a silver-white scalpel. He had taken off his pure black down jacket, revealing a simple black shirt and suit pants that hugged his long legs.

His proportions were impossibly good.

Bo Shuo also stopped, his gaze fixed on the scalpel.

Wait.

Why did this scalpel look so similar to his?

Actually, "similar" wasn't quite right; only the exterior was identical.

Bo Shuo's scalpel was an S-class Ghost Tool, while the one in Xi Guici's hand was merely a simple F-class Ghost Tool.

Its aura was so weak it was almost undetectable.

As if sensing Bo Shuo's gaze, Xi Guici paused his hand playing with the scalpel and suddenly looked up, smiling faintly at Bo Shuo, "Mr. Bo."

His pronunciation was unique, carrying a subtle, distinctive charm. Before Bo Shuo could react, he was already close.

Bo Shuo's body tensed, and he instinctively prepared to retaliate. Yet, a cool sensation suddenly appeared in his hand as the scalpel was placed into his palm.

Xi Guici retreated with perfect composure, maintaining a comfortable distance. After handing over the scalpel, he stepped back to a distance that was neither too far nor too close, a distance that felt comfortable.

"I was trying to replicate the knife Mr. Bo has, but my skills are too clumsy; it's nowhere near as good as yours."

His sigh-like tone drifted into Bo Shuo's ears on the wind.

Bo Shuo clenched the knife in his hand. The slightly warm sensation transmitted through his fingertips made him uncomfortable.

He tossed the scalpel aside in a turn, and it landed on the ground with a crisp clatter.

"Get lost. Don't provoke me."

He didn't want to be around a lunatic.

Bo Shuo considered himself a good person and didn't want any overt entanglement with such a madman.

After assessing the surrounding environment and confirming that he couldn't fight Xi Guici here, Bo Shuo, with a cold expression, pulled open the door and walked straight in, closing it with a snap, leaving Xi Guici outside.

The door slammed shut heavily.

"Mr. Bo is so heartless."

His tone was tinged with a hint of grievance.

Left outside, having been shut out, Xi Guici showed no displeasure.

He slowly bent down and picked up the silver-white scalpel from the ground. The peach blossom eyes beneath his gold-rimmed glasses lost their previous softness, replaced by an almost indifferent coolness.

As he picked up the scalpel from the ground, it began to twist and distort, transforming into a vibrant, dew-kissed rose.

"It's a shame he doesn't want you."

His fingers tightened slightly, and the rose turned to dust, scattered carelessly on the ground.

--

Bo Shuo's sleep was far from peaceful. The collapsed bed was uncomfortable, and the nights in the examination area were rarely quiet.

Around the third watch, a loud, piercing suona horn suddenly blared outside, followed by heavy footsteps and the occasional mournful sobbing of a woman.

Bo Shuo was completely startled awake by the commotion. Peeking through a gap in the paper window, he could see a large procession outside.

It was a wedding procession.

In the center was the bride's sedan chair, with wedding attendants lining both sides, stretching for ten miles.

But as those 'people' drew closer, it became clear they were rows upon rows of Paper Figurines.

Their eyes were dotted with scarlet, their lips painted with cinnabar curved into wide smiles, their limbs swaying in the wind, yet strangely, they could steadily lift the sedan chair in the middle.

The bride was crying, countless mournful tones condensing into a single word.

Wronged.

What kind of normal person picks up a bride late at night.

Bo Shuo didn't dare to look any further and grabbed 007.

007 struggled desperately in Bo Shuo's hands, "Let me go!"

His resistance was in vain, and he was forced to become Bo Shuo's recording device.