15: Chapter 15 Internal Strife

Zhao Qiang's eyeballs, exposed beyond his eyelids and bloodshot from extreme terror, finally lost their last glimmer of light.

His body lost support, collapsing like a pile of mud.

The bullet comments in the livestream instantly exploded across the screen, filled with protective mosaics.

[ (IP: Dragon Country) Holy crap! High-energy warning! My takeout just arrived! ]

[ (IP: Japan) Is this the art of an s-rank instance? Splendid... ugh... too graphic! ]

[ (IP: USA) This skinning technique is more professional than the Texas Chainsaw Massacre! This is definitely not an ordinary ghost! ]

"Dead... dead..."

The Lean Tall Man, whose nerves were already tightly strung, had his psychological defense completely shattered at this moment.

"It's you! It's you!"

The Lean Tall Man suddenly jumped up, wildly swinging the rusty iron rod in his hand, his fingertips trembling as he pointed at Lin Sa, who was standing in the shadows.

His eyes bulged, and his voice became sharp and piercing due to his hysteria:

"When the lights went out just now, you were the closest to him! You are the Skin Flayer in disguise!"

The Lean Tall Man's roar echoed in the empty study, carrying the madness of a dying struggle.

The fragile trust that had been established for the sake of 'survival' instantly crumbled into dust.

Although the newcomers didn't dare to act, they were slowly backing away, their bodies tense, as if they might pounce and fight for their lives in the next second.

Lin Sa's eyes turned cold, the veins bulging on the back of her hand gripping the dagger, a bloodthirsty sneer curling on her lips: "A brain is a good thing, too bad you don't have one."

"Shut up."

An extremely cold voice forcefully cut into the tense atmosphere.

He pushed up his broken gold-rimmed glasses and walked directly to Zhao Qiang's body, which was still steaming hot.

Everyone was stunned by his sudden action.

Xu Mo slowly squatted down, ignoring the nauseating smell of blood and corpse decay, and extended a slender finger to smear some residue from the incision on Zhao Qiang's neck.

Then, under everyone's terrified gazes, he brought the blood-stained finger close to his nose and gently sniffed it.

Is this still human? Normal people would run away from a skinned corpse like this, yet this guy actually smells it?!

[ (IP: Dragon Country) What a ruthless person! His mental fortitude is incredible! ]

[ (IP: Sun Never Sets) This is a true player. This is why they get to eat Kobe beef, while you can only be cannon fodder. ]

Xu Mo stood up and took out a pristine white handkerchief to wipe the bloodstains from his finger.

He looked up, his eyes so cold as if he were looking at a group of idiots: "The lights were out for ten seconds. Who among you could complete skinning to this extent within ten seconds?"

"The edges of the incision show no serrated tearing marks. The blade avoided the carotid artery and trachea, and even the subcutaneous fat layer was cleanly separated. This indicates that the killer's familiarity with human anatomy even surpasses their familiarity with this house."

"Look clearly." Xu Mo raised his hand, which still held a faint scent of blood. "With that amount of bleeding, if the cutting was done at close range, the killer's cuffs and fingernails would inevitably have splatter marks of blood. Especially for such a high-difficulty maneuver requiring blind operation in the dark, it's impossible to avoid getting even a drop of blood on oneself."

Everyone's hands were dirty, covered with mud, sweat, and previous grime.

But there were no fine, freshly splattered blood spots.

Even Lin Sa, who was accused, although her dagger was dark, her cuffs were clean.

The Lean Tall Man opened his mouth, wanting to retort, but found his throat felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, unable to utter a single word.

Facts spoke louder than words.

That kind of perverse technique was indeed not something a human player could achieve in just a few seconds.

"Since... since it wasn't us..." The Lean Tall Man swallowed, his voice trembling like a fallen leaf in the wind, "Then why... why did that monster stop? It clearly could have killed us all, or completely flayed Zhao Qiang..."

This unknown fear was even more devastating.

It was like a sword hanging over their heads; they didn't know when it would fall, nor why it stopped halfway through the cut.

"Because it was disgusted."

Xu Mo turned around, his gaze falling on the open black diary on the desk not far away.

"The diary clearly states it."

Xu Mo's voice was low, echoing in the dead silent study with a chilling dread: "This 'Skinning Artist' is a perfectionist. What it requires is skin that sheds naturally when the victim is extremely relaxed, even cherished."

He pointed at Zhao Qiang's body on the ground, his eyes not closed in death.

"Before he died, Zhao Qiang experienced extreme fear. His muscles tensed, adrenaline surged, causing his skin and flesh to adhere tightly."

"To that picky 'naughty child,' skin that has become stiff due to fear and is saturated with sour sweat is just a ruined piece of scrap material."

"It only flayed half of it, found the material quality too poor, felt disgusted, and thus threw this trash here."

The crowd felt their scalps tingle hearing this.

Killing is simple, but this ghost actually picks and chooses its victims when killing?

"Over there."

Lin Sa, who had been silently on guard, suddenly spoke.

She sheathed her dagger and moved low like an alert hound, tracking along the shadows of the study.

"The moment the lights went out, I smelled a scent. It wasn't the smell of blood, nor the perfume in here, but a smell... of cheap perfume mixed with decaying earth."

Lin Sa searched along the base of the wall, finally stopping at the corner between two towering rows of bookshelves.

Several mannequins dressed in splendid medieval gowns were piled there. They were gathered together in elegant poses, as if engaged in a silent conspiracy.

Lin Sa's eyes narrowed slightly, and she abruptly reached out to push aside one male mannequin wearing a tailcoat.

On the side of the bookshelf behind the mannequin, there was intricate carved decoration. Lin Sa's fingers quickly traced over the patterns, finally stopping on an inconspicuous wooden rose, which she pressed down hard.

"Click."

An extremely subtle sound of a mechanism echoed.

The bookshelf, which originally looked seamless and incredibly heavy, silently sprang open a gap like a spring door.

It was a narrow, pitch-black secret passage.

Xu Mo quickly walked over and brought the candlestick in his hand close to the entrance of the passage.

Under the flickering candlelight, everyone clearly saw the evidence.

At the edge of the carpet near the entrance of the secret passage, there was half a footprint stained with damp soil. The soil was black and shiny, exactly the humus unique to the back garden.

Xu Mo pushed up his glasses, his eyes flashing with rational light, a cold smile curling on his lips:

"The killer is not an insider, and it is intimately familiar with the structure of this manor. It's like a rat hiding in the gutter, watching us like a show through the cracks."

"The moment the lights went out, it crawled out from here, completed that failed 'creation,' and then retreated in disgust."

The Lean Tall Man and the people behind him were completely speechless.

That footprint was like a resounding slap, shattering their previous suspicion and internal strife.

The real enemy was an evil ghost hiding in the dark, ready to skin people alive at any moment!

"Th-then what now?"

The Lean Tall Man's voice trembled as he looked at the dark passage, as if looking at a giant mouth ready to swallow people. "Are we just going to wait here to die? It could come out again at any time, right? Next time... next time will it be my turn?"

Panic spread again.

"No, it won't choose targets randomly."

Xu Mo turned around, his back to the secret passage, his gaze slowly sweeping over the crowd.

"Do you still remember the selection criteria?"

Xu Mo's voice was light, yet it struck everyone's hearts like a heavy hammer: "Extremely relaxed... cherished... flawless..."