Afterwards, the group had to visit the bathhouse once more.
Since No.14, Yelena, had been merely a bystander throughout and bore no bloodstains, she originally didn’t need to wash up.
However, she volunteered to help with the cleanup—specifically wiping away the blood splattered along the floor—and naturally, her hands and feet ended up stained.
Our Miss Hua Ru could no longer afford to remain aloof.
She took turns with Yelena, holding an apron to use as a rag to clean the blood along the corridor leading to the bathhouse.
Compared to that somewhat inexperienced young girl, the scheming Hua Ru was far more meticulous.
Her eyes scanned the surroundings like radar, spotting strands of hair shed during the fight and bloody fingerprints, all of which she found and wiped clean.
As the main fighters, Ragna and Xukesi enjoyed the luxury of nobility.
They had no need to bother with such trivial tasks.
By this time, both were drenched in blood.
At Hua Ru’s reminder, they waited until the blood stuck to them had dried before stepping out into the corridor.
The two men led the way, and with every step they took, the two women following behind wiped the floor once more.
What does professional support mean?
It refers to someone like Hua Ru.
Though she didn’t fight, she excelled in everything outside the battle.
From pre-fight analysis and action planning to on-the-spot adjustments and post-battle cleanup.
“Why are you so skilled at this?” Ragna asked curiously as they reached the staircase.
“I studied home economics,” Hua Ru replied, squatting down to scrub away some hardened blood clumps on the floor.
Lying seemed to have become second nature, and she instinctively fabricated this excuse.
“Does home economics teach you how to kill people?” Ragna stared incredulously at the startling statement from the young girl.
Facing her directly, his naked lower body was so close that his groin nearly bumped against her head.
She had assumed the Japanese high schooler meant cleaning with a rag, and realizing she’d misunderstood, she calmly smoothed over her answer: “Home economics teaches you many subtle skills. Applying those skills to any task has some common ground.”
This is what you call comprehensive understanding!
You three rookies get it?
Naturally, Hua Ru didn’t dare voice this audacious thought aloud.
Outwardly, her demeanor was sincere, utterly unlike the schemer she truly was.
At this moment, she resembled a virtuous housewife, having transformed from a proud young lady to a married woman in mere minutes.
After all, as a top contender for Best Actor at the 89th Oscars, her acting skills were solid.
Number 7, Ragna, wisely kept quiet, and No.12, Xukesi, dared not pick up the topic either.
Perhaps haunted by earlier thoughts, he sensed an air of superiority in her words.
He felt speaking now would only invite humiliation, so he chose silence.
After the four arrived at the large bathhouse, they each took thorough showers—no hair or nails overlooked—until all traces of blood were gone.
Then they soaked in the big bath for a while.
Hua Ru’s work was slightly more extensive.
She had to wash the apron clean, then imitate a washing machine’s agitation to wring out as much water as possible.
Finally, she placed it in the kitchen, lit the gas, and started drying it.
It was just past three o’clock, still before four.
Later, the group convened in the hall to discuss daytime precautions and operational plans, then dispersed.
The three men returned to their rooms, while Hua Ru carried out the final cleanup.
Using her memory, she tidied and arranged the kitchen items, then went to the men’s bath’s private stalls to turn on the showers, deliberately soaking all three stalls.
At last, the cleanup was complete.
Before heading upstairs, she glanced at the hall and suddenly felt uncomfortable—her obsessive-compulsive tendencies flared up.
The sixteen chairs were arranged around the long table, but because several people had just sat there, the chairs for No.7 and No.12 were slightly askew, making the entire setup look uneven.
This irritated Hua Ru greatly.
She straightened every chair and then suddenly had a flash of insight.
Her gaze swept over the sixteen chairs and finally settled on the No.10 chair…
04:06:41
04:59:59
05:59:59
06:00:00
07:00:00
08:00:00
09:00:00
10:00:00
10:24:20
The doorbell rang three times rhythmically.
Hua Ru opened the door to find Xukesi standing outside, his cheek swollen and red—the aftermath of taking a punch from No.15.
He then pressed several other doorbells.
Just as the door to No.5 was about to open, he suddenly lost his balance and fell, his cheek hitting the floor hard.
This was witnessed by No.5 and No.6, who had their door wide open.
“Are you okay, buddy?” The punk-looking No.5 helped the Hong Kong reporter up.
That fall hurt badly.
Half of Xukesi’s face was flushed and slightly swollen.
Covering his face, he said, “Get everyone else out.”
Five minutes later, everyone had gathered in the corridor.
The sky was already bright.
There was no clock inside the rooms, so no one knew the time.
With no sign at six in the morning, everyone had naturally stayed hidden in their rooms, afraid to come out.
Now it was already 10:29 a.m.
It was obvious none of them had slept well; their faces were tired, some yawning.
“Where’s No.15?” someone suddenly noticed one was missing.
Upon hearing this, the four killers tensed up.
Ragna maintained his composure, looking puzzled as he began searching for No.15’s room.
Xukesi sat on the floor, still rubbing his swollen cheek.
Yelena appeared somewhat nervous, hiding beside Hua Ru.
Meanwhile, Hua Ru reverted to her fragile, shy persona, standing at the door, poised as if ready to shut it at any moment.
The middle-aged man No.10 remained in his usual slovenly state, smoking a cigarette and leaning against his door, staring at the ceiling as if lost in thought.
A minute later, everyone gathered outside No.15’s door. No.3, Qian Min, told the others to step back.
He crouched, brushed a tiny brownish object on the floor, and crushed it between his fingers.
“This is blood, and it’s already congealed,” he said gravely, adjusting his glasses. “I didn’t expect the first day to pick No.15.”
As he spoke, No.1, Zhou Wei, opened the unlocked door.
The gruesome scene inside shocked everyone.
Newcomers No.5 and No.6 immediately clung to the wall, vomiting. No.2, Zhang Huiran’s face turned deathly pale.
Hua Ru was among the crowd.
She already knew what awaited inside, but her acting was convincing.
The moment she saw the scene, she suddenly “lost her strength,” staggering backward and hitting the wall behind her.
Her look of “shock” was so genuine it could fool anyone.
Then her body trembled, perfectly embodying fear.
Yelena’s acting suddenly sharpened too.
She hid to the side, dry heaving as if truly sick.
“Who is it? Who’s the killer? Aren’t you afraid of divine punishment for doing this?” No.11, the high school teacher, shouted passionately.
Divine punishment?
If such a thing truly existed, the underworld wouldn’t still be here.
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