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墨書 Inktalez
One of the corpses had its neck brutally snapped, the head hanging at a bizarre angle, drooping forward. The other corpse had a deep indentation in its chest, several ribs completely shattered, as if it had been struck violently by a blunt object.
Yang Yin noticed that beside these two bodies were two more Hazmat Suits, similarly torn apart. It seemed that they were together with the earlier individual.
Yang Yin crouched down and searched through the bodies, hoping to find something that could prove their identities. After rummaging through their pockets, he found nothing related to identification. It was strange; he wondered what these people had been doing.
Turning to the three others, his expression serious, he said, "You all search around here and see if you can find any more clues."
The three scattered, bending down to search the nearby ground.
Oh my God.
Before long, one of them suddenly exclaimed in shock. He hurried over to Yang Yin, panting heavily, and said, "I... I found Ma Zhibiao over there. He’s been killed."
Yang Yin was taken aback and quickly urged the man to lead the way. They jogged to where he had indicated.
Crouching down, Yang Yin carefully examined the body on the ground. He recognized that this dead person was indeed Ma Zhibiao. When they left the shelter that morning, Ma Zhibiao had been wearing a Gas Mask. Now, that Gas Mask was twisted and deformed, discarded carelessly nearby.
At this moment, Ma Zhibiao's skin was corroded by toxic gas, with several blisters forming on his face. There was a deep wound at his temple, from which dried blood had oozed out and solidified; it was clear he had been dead for some time.
Damn it! Which bastard did this to Little Ma?
Yang Yin's expression turned cold as he clenched his fists tightly, his teeth grinding audibly. During their time in prison, Yang Yin and Ma Zhibiao had shared a cell together.
He slept on the bottom bunk while Ma Zhibiao occupied the top. The two of them had become quite familiar with each other over time. During their free hours, they often gathered together, smoking and playing poker.
"Lao Yang, once we both get out, let's start a company together. What do you think?" Ma Zhibiao exhaled a puff of smoke and smiled at Yang Yin.
"Sounds good, Little Ma. I’ll be out in another two years. You should try to get your sentence reduced so you can join me sooner. We can make a lot of money together," Yang Yin replied.
As he reminisced about the moments spent with Ma Zhibiao, a wave of sorrow washed over Yang Yin. They had always gotten along well, and he considered Ma Zhibiao to be one of his closest friends. Now, with his friend's lifeless body lying before him, Yang Yin felt an unbearable heaviness in his heart.
Yang Yin could see that the hole in Ma Zhibiao's head was caused by a bullet. He was filled with rage towards the person who had shot him. "Little Ma, just wait. I will definitely find the one who killed you and make them pay for it," he vowed, his brow furrowed and his eyes gleaming with fierce determination.
He longed to track down that person quickly, to torture them mercilessly before letting them die in front of him, filled with pain and regret.
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