The body remained intact, with no signs of resistance.
Only the somewhat decayed faces still faintly revealed the despair the victims had felt before death.
It was a mother and child, the mother holding her son.
In her arms, the little boy's round eyes were dull and lifeless. Maggots crawled in and out of his slightly open mouth, occasionally writhing as they fell from his lips onto the floor.
The bullet hole in his forehead was like another dark, hollow eye staring at the ceiling.
The remaining corpse sat slumped before the Broadcast Station's control console, with a Type 96 Pistol lying by its feet.
Three shell casings corresponded to three bullet holes.
On the console before the corpse, countless buttons had clearly been twisted about haphazardly. It was obvious that the man had been trying to contact the outside world before he died.
"Was it murder? Murder-suicide?"
Walking behind the chair, Chu An picked up the pistol from the floor with an indifferent expression.
"Click."
He pulled back the slide, but there were no bullets.
He pulled out the magazine. Inside the empty magazine, the spring used to feed the rounds showed faint traces of rust.
"Only three rounds?"
His peripheral vision caught a dim brass glint in the gap beneath the console.
"Four rounds. Did one misfire?"
Holding the pistol, Chu An raised it and casually aimed at the two corpses behind him, as if recreating the scene from that time.
"There was a pause between the shots. No attempt to dodge?"
The first to die should have been the woman, followed by the child.
When the second shot was fired, the shooter had clearly struggled for a long time before pulling the trigger.
He muttered under his breath.
As he spoke, a strange emotion flashed through his