After they returned to the room, the Fatty still hadn't recovered from the shock.
But it was late at night, so he couldn't speak loudly. He could only lower his voice to a whisper.
"Doctor, what are you doing?"
"Nothing," Jiang Cheng muttered quietly as he wiped his hands with a damp rag. "They weren't taking things seriously enough, so I gave them a little pressure. You know, it's for their own good."
The Fatty was used to Jiang Cheng's ways by now, so he changed the subject. "Then the blood is..."
"Exactly what you think." He shrugged. "I borrowed it from Long Tao."
The Fatty's expression grew even more colorful.
He hesitated for a moment, then seemed to reason it out for himself. "I'm guessing you wanted to make it look like they've already been targeted by a ghost. If they don't solve the task in time, they'll be the first to die."
The Fatty licked his lips and followed closely behind Jiang Cheng. "I get that, but you could've just stamped a handprint. Why did you make the fingers so long?" He looked at Jiang Cheng in confusion. "Is there some kind of meaning behind it?"
"You wanted to throw those two off the trail, make them think the killer ghost has a huge hand!" The Fatty seemed to have figured it out. "Is that it?"
"Actually, not really." Jiang Cheng scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed, then glanced back at the Fatty. "Mostly, there was still a little left in the bottle, and I didn't want to waste it."
The Fatty's mouth twitched. "...I'll thank Long Tao on your behalf."
"You're welcome."
After using up the last of the two bottles of mineral water, Jiang Cheng waited until the smell of blood on his hands had