Chapter 7 Research on Blood Characters (II)

Author: Magic Melon

Chapter 7 Research on Blood Characters (II)

The plasma on the ground had solidified, and a white corpse seemed particularly eye-catching.

Even with the dim light, it can still be seen that the dead lady has fascinating snow-white skin, a head of blond hair without colors, slender limbs, plump breasts, and the exquisite faces of those standing in the city.

However, such a beautiful body was cut open from the chest, and the huge crack extended to the lower abdomen. The flesh and blood were open, revealing the empty blood cavity inside, and the limbs were filled with shocking trauma.

Sherlock just looked at it

I didn't go closer to observe, and I didn't say a word.

It took 20 seconds.

Deacon Badel's towering eyebrows frowned slightly, and the sheriff beside him even felt that this guy was not scared by the bloody scene.

At this moment, Sherlock finally made a move. He was very ill-equipped and threw the cigarette butt into the gap between the steam armor knees beside him:

"Where is the clothes?" he asked without a head or end.

“What?”

"The clothes of the dead." Sherlock looked around again: "I didn't see the clothes of the dead."

"This" the sheriff hesitated.

"The crime scene was not moved by anyone, and there was no clothes at the beginning. It should have been taken away by the murderer." Catherine came over at some point. While answering, she looked at Sherlock with expressionless expression: "The duty of these sheriffs is to protect the scene. They don't know the details of the murder. If you have any questions, please come and ask me."

Sherlock showed a little gentlemanly demeanor in a rare way: "Thank you, beautiful lady."

"No need to thank me, I don't like you as a person. I just hope you can find the murderer sooner." She did not hide the indifference in her tone: "I hope your ability will not be as inferior as yours."

Perhaps the class gap is too huge, and Catherine does not want to hide her dislike for the detective in front of her, but also because the class gap is too large, she does not make things difficult for the other party because she dislikes it.

The civilian is not yet qualified to be embarrassed by a judge nun.

So she just looked down on it, but she was extremely serious, informing the other party of all the clues she got.

As for Sherlock, he naturally would not have any resistance to this. He was not stupid, and he would not expect some kind of cross-class intersection like the sheriff behind him.

He knew what he should do and knew that he was here. In fact, he just wanted to try this case about the Holy See and whether it could bring some novelty to himself.

Of course, since the Holy See has chosen him, he has to come or not.

Anyway, he listened very calmly to the clues that Catherine said.

One speaks, the other listens.

In this way, the men and women with huge status gaps showed some strange tacit understanding at this time.

A few minutes later.

Sherlock finally frowned awkwardly and said, "You guys have basically found nothing."

Catherine still had a blank expression: "I told you before that the fewer people know about this, the better. If we want to call the group of people in the Inquisition, why should we find you a private detective to deal with this matter?"

"It makes sense." Sherlock was not depressed at all, but instead showed a bright smile, and then walked into the alley alone.

Catherine and Deacon Badell looked at each other and followed slowly; as for the short old priest, he had been standing still since he got off the carriage, like a statue, and if he approached, he could even hear a faint snoring.

In the alley, the figures of several people divided the light of the gas lamp into fragments.

Sherlock stepped over the muddy blood stains, leaned down, picked up a piece of minced meat, and glanced at it in the dim light:

"A piece of cut liver, such a crisp tissue can be cut so neatly, the murderer's skills are pretty good."

His words were not said to someone, but a habitual conversation about himself.

"A sternum stem, with two ribs, the cut surface is equally neat." He picked up another bone and said, "This kind of dissection should not be completed in a short time. Judging from the degree of blood clotting, the death time was around 5 a.m. today. By the way, why did the murderer suddenly become so obsessed with the number [Four]?"

"Four?" Catherine said with a little puzzled.

"Yes, this guy cut almost everything he could into four pieces." He said, picking up a few more pieces of minced meat, skillfully putting it into the entire lung lobe, and then put it in the open chest of the corpse.

"What are you doing?" Deacon Badel, who had been silent, finally spoke. His voice was not loud and he could not hear any disgust, but the scarlet notice was strangely showing a great sense of oppression.

Most of the deacons in the Judgment Department are contractors and have reached the second stage. After all, only those with powerful power can be competent for those cruel and dangerous tasks.

However, Sherlock was not panicked by this sense of oppression, and his hands did not stop at all:

"Sorry, Mr. Badell. I know this is a bit disrespectful to your wife, but the murderer should have left us some clues. Look here."

He spoke very quickly and pointed to a newly-dispersed intestine and said, "A very shallow wound is penetrated from top to bottom. After the murderer cut his chest and abdomen, he did not rush to chop it, but instead cut some marks on his internal organs with a knife."

With just a few words, Sherlock has already made up the chopped internal organs on the ground.

The sheriff stood at the entrance of the alley and looked at it from afar, and he had to speak but stopped several times.

He had a very uncomfortable thought in his heart: even a normal person, even a doctor, could not be so skillful in putting the chopped internal organs together.

Does this civilian detective in the Lower City often cuts internal organs and practice makes perfect?

"alright."

Two minutes later, Sherlock finished all the rest

And between the fragmented internal organs, you can really see a series of knife marks.

“YES?”

Deacon Bader's vision was obviously different from that of ordinary people. Under such dark lights, he could quickly identify the traces between the patchwork organs.

A bloody word that uses a sharp blade to mark the internal organs——YES.
Chapter completed!