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Chapter 2

Author: Rabbit King
The footage played on. It hadn’t been long since my wife's parents had died.

I was kneeling before their grave, my trembling fingers brushing over the cold stone of the headstone.

A trace of clarity returned to my eyes.

As I watched the scene, my heart felt as though it were being carved apart. Tears slid silently down my cheeks.

In that dazed moment, I forgot the pain wracking my body.

It was as if I could hear my mother-in-law bringing over a bowl of hot soup, and see my father-in-law’s figure leaning on his cane.

The onlookers began murmuring among themselves.

“Looking at him now, could there be some hidden hardship we don’t know about?”

“Killers always return to the scene of the crime. Going back now is just him admiring his own handiwork.”

“Classic performative personality. They’re already dead, and he’s still putting on an act. If he truly cared about his wife's parents, why wouldn’t he tell the truth?”

Linda stared at the memory projection, her body shaking violently.

“Finn, why? Why won’t you tell the truth?!”

Gregory pinched my chin mockingly and sneered. “Nice act. Kneeling there, playing the devoted son-in-law—who are you trying to fool? You’re just afraid someone’s watching you from the shadows. Your acting won’t fool everyone.”

I struggled desperately to shake off his grip. The memory scene shifted abruptly.

A group of people appeared near the cemetery.

A burlap sack was yanked over my head. Fists and boots rained down like a storm.

The crack of breaking ribs mixed with curses. Before long, blood soaked through the sack.

They roared, “A life for a life!”

I curled into a bloodied heap, writhing in agony.

“The family of a murderer deserves to be left in the wild for the dogs!”

“No—!” I struggled and screamed, but they smashed my legs with clubs until the sound cut off.

They dug open my parents-in-law’s grave and kicked their urns onto the ground.

With bleeding fingers, I clawed through the ashes, my hands shaking as I gathered them back into the urn.

When Linda arrived and saw the desecrated grave, her eyes turned red. She grabbed my throat and slammed me against the headstone.

“Bastard! You won’t even spare the dead? They treated you so well—how could you do something like this?!”

I tried to explain, but her fury cut me off.

Everything went dark as I finally lost consciousness.

My body convulsed violently, my eyes bloodshot, a piercing howl tearing from my throat.

Blood mixed with tears streamed down as the image of Linda's parents' graves being dug up again played out before me. The pain was like countless ants gnawing into my bones.

Linda’s pupils shrank. Her face went paper-white, her voice hoarse.

“How could this be… did I wrong him?”

She trembled as she tried to stop the memory decoder, but Gregory stopped her with a firm grip.

“Linda, calm down. If he really had some hidden hardship, why wouldn’t he tell us the truth? Besides… once the decoder starts, it can’t be stopped.

“This is all an act. Who’s to say those grave robbers weren’t sent by him? After all, you and criminals like him are enemies by nature.”

Linda stood frozen, trembling where she was.

The images flickered. The machine screeched.

Several vagrants pinned me beside a reeking gutter, tearing at my clothes. Their foul breath blasted against my neck, filthy black nails digging into my struggling flesh.

“Boss, what if this cripple tells people what we did? Then just cut out his tongue.”

I convulsed in agony. Blood sprayed everywhere.

Yet the victims’ families clapped and laughed.

“He deserves it! Let him taste what it’s like to be tortured!”

Linda stared at my tongue, already cut out. She staggered, nearly collapsing.

“Finn is badly injured. He couldn’t possibly be the killer!”

Gregory grabbed Linda’s arm, his gaze sharp.

“Even if he isn’t the killer, he definitely knows the truth! These memories are irrelevant. We need to increase the pressure and force out the key information! Otherwise, the slaughter won’t end!”

Clenching her teeth, Linda trembled as she drove the silver needles deeper into my temples.
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    The memory froze on the moment Linda took me away.She collapsed to her knees, screaming in despair.I hovered in the air, watching her face twist with agony. A dull ache rose from the depths of my soul.“Finn… I’m sorry… I didn’t know… I really didn’t know…”She crawled to my corpse, but there was no longer a single intact piece of flesh left on my body.Her tears fell onto me. Yet I could no longer soothe her the way I once had.Gregory grabbed Linda, trying to pull her to her feet.“Linda, these memories are all fake! Don’t let him fool you—he and the killer were working together!”At that moment, the director of the psychiatric hospital spoke in a grave voice.“Linda did suffer from dissociative identity disorder in the past. During an episode years ago, she set fire to someone’s home. Because she was mentally unstable and still a minor at the time, the court did not sentence her, ordering compulsory treatment instead. Her parents chose to bury the truth forever in order t

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