"Those were the children's missing brain tissues!" Tang Qisheng realized at once. Staring at the densely packed glass jars, he could hardly imagine what the killer intended to do.
Several blood vessels extended from each jar, eventually converging at a huge vat in the very center of the secret room.
The vat had a stone-like texture and was opaque. From where he stood, Tang Qisheng couldn't see what was inside. He grabbed a blood vessel beside the doorframe and climbed up. At last, he got a clear view: a huge mass of milky-white, rotting flesh floated inside the vat.
No, that wasn't right. It was brain tissue, too—only it came from an enormous head!
"I-it's the dean's head! This is its brain!" Tang Qisheng was certain the brain had come from that huge, deformed, shattered head.
Everything was getting stranger. He couldn't understand why the dean needed so much brain tissue, or why it would even sacrifice its own brain. It was like some inhuman experiment.
"Mm..."
The next second, Tang Qisheng's furrowed brow twitched, and his pupils contracted sharply. A face had appeared in that disgusting mass of enormous brain tissue.
"J-Jiang Cheng!"
Tang Qisheng's mouth fell open. He never would have imagined that he'd see Jiang Cheng under these circumstances. And it wasn't just Jiang Cheng—Wang Fugui was there, too.
Jiang Cheng's eyes were shut tight, as if he were thinking, while Wang Fugui's eye twitched from time to time.
They weren't dead. They looked more like they were asleep, trapped in a dream they could hardly wake from.
The overwhelming sight left Tang Qisheng stunned for a moment, and he couldn't help feeling a chill of fear. If he'd chosen to leave with Zhu Jie not long ago, what kind of fate would Jiang Cheng and Wang