"Rustle."
The diary fell open to its final page. In the dim operating room, Jiang Hao Chen stared in bewilderment at its abrupt ending.
Judging by the handwriting, he could tell that Shinichi Morita had been on the verge of madness. After one failed treatment after another, he no longer trusted anyone.
Yet despite all those entries, Jiang Hao Chen could glean almost nothing beyond a record of an ordinary man descending into madness.
"He operated on himself? Then what? Did someone stop him? Or did he die on the operating table?"
"Andrew, can you tell me what you figured out now?"
Taking a deep breath, Jiang Hao Chen looked helplessly at Andrew, trying to read something in his eyes.
"Yes, but before that, I want to ask you a question."
Andrew nodded slightly.
"What do you think Shinichi Morita lost in the car accident? Where was he hurting?"
The question caught Jiang Hao Chen off guard, and he blurted out instinctively,
"A hand or a foot, probably!"
"Didn't the doctor say it was phantom limb pain? Doesn't phantom limb mean-"
Before he could finish, Andrew shook his head.
"No, phantom limb only describes the symptom. If he'd lost a limb, how could he drive? Didn't you notice the soccer, the concert, and the organ mentioned in the diary?"
"It couldn't have been a hand or a foot, nor could it have been an ear. Gouging out a chunk of flesh, headaches... unless I'm mistaken, Shinichi Morita must have lost an eye."
"Only an eye could explain the sound of bones grinding."
"He was missing an eye?! His eyeball hurt?!"
Listening to Andrew's analysis, Jiang Hao Chen immediately realized he was right.
He had jumped to conclusions, influenced by the television outside.
But he still didn't understand why Andrew was