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died!
Although Lumian had some mental preparations, he still couldn't accept it.
When he left the clinic, Lu Er had obviously recovered and got rid of the fate of death. How could he die suddenly?
Lumian stepped into room 307 slowly, and cast his gaze on the bed.
Ruhr was lying there, with rotten wounds flowing yellowish water one after another on the surface of his skin. His face was sallow and pale, and he was motionless. His eyes were wide open, and there was some vomit around his mouth.
After a few seconds of staring at the dazed, painful and unwilling eyes, Lumian asked in a deep voice, "When did he die?"
Michelle's pale hair seemed to have lost its luster. She shook her head slowly and said, "I was too sleepy and fell asleep. When I woke up, he was already dead."
"Did he go back to 302 before going to bed?" Lumian asked.
"No, he just went to the bathroom near 302, and I went too." Michelle's voice was obviously deep, but it gave Lumian a very erratic feeling, as if her soul had already A part is not in the body.
They all went to that bathroom, one "strange disease" recurred, and one was fine. Lumian frowned, planning to go to the bathroom. If there is nothing wrong there, the chances of Mrs. Michel being abnormal are quite high.
When Lumian left room 307 and walked towards the target bathroom along the aisle without light, Michelle was still kneeling and sitting in front of the bed, sobbing constantly, indifferent to what other people were doing. Because of the fixed cleaning lady, the bathroom on the third floor is no longer as dirty as before. Although there will inevitably be stains and garbage after a day of use, at least civilized people can find a place to stay.
With a glance, Lumian saw the toilet and washstand, the rusted water pipes on the surface, and the mirror reflecting his silhouette with the help of the crimson moonlight shining through the window. He observed carefully for a while, and found a white silk handkerchief draped over the pipe in the hidden corner.
Just by distinguishing it with the naked eye, Lumian thinks it does not belong to most of the current tenants of the Golden Rooster Hotel, because it is made of excellent materials, elegantly embroidered, and the price must be expensive.
Are there outsiders? Lumian's first reaction was to pick up the silk handkerchief for a more detailed inspection, but he immediately thought of the picture of Mr. Ruhr's whole body festering when he suddenly fell ill, and forcibly controlled himself.
In a flash of thought, he left the bathroom, walked back to room 307, and asked Mrs. Michel, who was still sobbing: "Do you know whose handkerchief is in the bathroom?"
Michelle was dazed and distressed, and answered purely instinctively: "It's Ruhr's."
Mister Rule's? Lumian was both surprised and sure enough, he asked, "Where did it come from?"
Mrs. Michel looked at the grim Ruhr, and said dreamily: "I don't know which gentleman or lady threw it out of the **** picked up tonight." I washed it and put it on my body, intending to sell it as a second-hand item instead of recycling it.
"After you said that there might be something dirty in that pile of garbage, Ruhr took it out and hid it in the bathroom. He didn't dare to go back to 302."
Phlegm... Lumian felt that he had found the source of the problem.
He breathed out slowly and said, "Did Mr. Ruhr touch that handkerchief again? Have you touched it?"
"I don't know." Mrs. Michel shook her head slowly, "I haven't touched the bathroom he went to by himself."
Sure enough... Lumian took out his gloves and put them on, went to the bathroom again, picked up the white silk handkerchiefs with "Fallen Mercury", put them into the white paper he carried, and folded them.
During the whole process, he was careful not to touch the handkerchief directly.
After finishing this task, Lumian wiped the blade of "Fallen Mercury" with another piece of white paper, threw the paper ball into the toilet, and flushed it away after it softened due to soaking. As soon as he walked out of the bathroom, he saw Mrs. Michel standing quietly at the door of room 307, like a ghost wandering in the dark.
Seeing Lumian approaching her, the gray-haired old lady showed a begging expression: "It's almost dawn, Mr. Shire, can you help me carry the Luhr back to 302?" Her voice was still as balderdash.
Lumian froze for a moment, and remained silent for five or six seconds before saying, "Okay."
He then entered Room 307, wrapped Mr. Ruhr with the bed sheet, and carried him behind his back, which was a few steps away. Lumian put the body on the bed in Room 302.
Mrs. Michel, who squeezed over from the garbage dump, thanked her repeatedly, then swayed to the wooden table as if sleepwalking, and opened the curtains. It was almost six o'clock in the morning, and there was a ray of morning light in the sky, which made the crimson moonlight fade a lot. Michelle listened to the cries of peddlers from the other side of the hotel, and stared deeply at Ruhr. Lumian exited Room 302, returned to the corridor where the light was still out of reach, and stood with his back against the wall, silently. Did not destroy the quiet picture.
A few minutes passed when Mrs. Michel suddenly began to move.
She rummaged around the room for more bills and coins, then rushed out of the room and down the stairs.
Lumian did not follow, raised his right foot, stepped back on the wall, and leaned against the wall that was sleeping in the darkness.
There was red wine in a bottle, and there was a grilled fish, and there was bacon, and there were meatloaf, and there was refried beans, and there was salsa, and there were apples.
Mrs. Michelle didn't look at Lumian, walked into room 302 and sat down on the floor next to the bed, and put all the food beside the festering corpse.
She thought for a while, stood up again, and lit the calcium carbide lamp on the wooden table, filling the room with light. Mrs. Michelle fell to the ground again, picked up the meatloaf, brought it to Ruhr's mouth, and said with a smile, "Don't you really want to eat meatloaf recently? I'll buy it for you today."
After the corpse's lips were stained with oil, Mrs. Michel also took a bite of the meatloaf, closed her eyes and said, "It's so delicious. How long have we not eaten? Two weeks?"
After taking a few bites of the meatloaf, Mrs. Michel held the bottle of red wine and took a sip. She said with a smile: "Old man, our vines have produced fruit and made red wine. We don't have to worry about what to do in the future."
While rambling on to Ruhr's corpse, she drank wine and ate all kinds of food.
Lumian outside the door stood in the darkness with his back against the wall, watching the inside quietly, neither leaving nor entering.
Soon, Mrs. Michel's alcohol became strong, and she, a former barmaid, sang loudly: "Trille covered with gold;" dance till dawn;
"Fat roast chicken;" like castle cakes;
"Waiters with bow ties shuttle among the guests;" stepping on cheerful dance steps;
"O my beloved, among them;" among them;
"This is the city of joy, this is eternal Trier."
At this point, Mrs. Michel stood up, staggered to the wooden table, and put the pile of banknotes on her body in front of the calcium carbide lamp.
In an instant, all the cash was ignited.
It fell on the table, emitting a bright yellowish flame.
Mrs. Michel opened her arms and cried out loudly: "This is the capital of joy, this is eternal Trier."
She immediately took the rope that tied the sack, climbed onto the wooden table, tied the rope to the window frame, and tied a knot.
In the firelight, Mrs. Michelle turned her body, facing Ruhr on the bed, put her neck into the knot, and then bent her legs.
The knot sank heavily, and Mrs. Michelle's eyes protruded a little.
The sky outside the window was brighter again, and one-third of the corridor was stained with twilight. Lumian leaned against the wall that was still shrouded in darkness, with his hands in his pockets and his right foot propped behind him, staring expressionlessly at the wall hanging from the window. Mrs. Michel in the frame, watching her mouth gradually open, watching her expression become painful, watching her bent legs not let go until death.
The corpse swayed slightly in the morning light.
At 6:35 in the morning, in Apartment 601, No. 3 Whitecoat Street.
Franka, who was awakened by the knock on the door, rubbed her flaxen messy hair in pain: "I only slept for three hours, three hours."
"Help me see what's inside. Is there any problem?" Lumian took out the handkerchief wrapped in white paper as if he didn't hear Franka's complaint. Be careful, it can be infectious. ""disease? Franka woke up suddenly, returned to the room, and put on a pair of translucent light yellow gloves made of rubber.
She carefully tore apart the outer layer of paper, took out the silk handkerchief inside, and placed it on the glass-based coffee table.
After tapping her teeth a few times and observing carefully for a while, Franke said with a solemn expression: "There is a problem, there are many tiny but active spirits left on it, which belong to the same kind.
"I suspect that it is a pathogen, which is transmitted through skin contact or even blood exchange. According to your description, it is not very contagious."
Lumian couldn't understand what a pathogen was, but he could probably figure out what Franka wanted to express.
He was silent for a while and said, "Can you find out who the owner of this handkerchief is?"
"No problem, there are powerful media here. As long as he didn't do anti-divination, or the level of anti-divination is not high enough, I can find him." While speaking, a layer of black spots appeared on Franka's rubber gloves. flame.
After finishing "cleaning", she took off her gloves, took out a cosmetic mirror, pressed her left palm on top of the handkerchief, and stroked the mirror with her right hand.
She recited a few mantras in a low voice, and her eyes became darker.
She began to repeat the divination sentence: "The owner of this handkerchief, the owner of this handkerchief."
After several times in a row, the mirror glowed with water, and a figure was reflected in the darkness. It was a thin, pale-faced young man who seemed unhealthy.