Chapter 1970

Clatter!

Having flipped to the last page of the diary, in the dim operating room, Jiang Haochen stared in astonishment at the diary that had abruptly ended.

From the handwriting, he could tell that Sen Tian Zhen Yi was already close to going mad; after repeated treatment failures, he no longer trusted anyone.

Although the content was extensive, aside from seeing the record of a normal person turning into a madman, he could hardly extract any other information.

"Did he perform surgery on himself? Then what? Was he stopped? Or did he die on the operating table?"

"Andre, can you tell me now what exactly you've figured out?!"

Taking a deep breath, having no clue, Jiang Haochen couldn't help but look at Andre, trying to see something in Andre's eyes.

"Sure, but before that, I want to ask you a question."

Andre nodded lightly.

"What do you think Sen Tian Zhen Yi lost in the car accident? Where does it hurt?"

Faced with the question, Jiang Haochen blinked, then blurted out instinctively:

"Hand or foot, maybe!"

"Didn't the doctor say phantom limb? Phantom limb refers to..."

He hadn't finished speaking when Andre shook his head:

"No, phantom limb just describes the symptom. If it were his limbs, how could he drive? Didn't you notice the diary's mention of playing soccer, concerts, organs?"

"It couldn't be hands or feet, nor ears. Digging out a piece of flesh, headache... otherwise, Sen Tian Zhen Yi probably lost an eye."

"Only an eye could explain the sound of bones grinding."

"He lost an eye!? Eye pain!?"

Hearing Andre's analysis, Jiang Haochen instantly realized Andre was right.

He had jumped to conclusions, influenced by the TV outside.

But he didn't understand why Andre was bringing this up now; shouldn't they be analyzing where that guy went afterward?

Seeing Jiang Haochen's confusion, Andre calmly pointed to his own eyes:

"What do you think a madman driven mad by eye pain, to the point of stabbing a knife into his own eye socket, would do after repeated despair?"

Picking up the diary, Andre let out a soft sigh:

"Patients tormented by phantom limb pain usually scratch desperately at their wounds, trying to stop the pain; a few will harm their injured limbs, pathological self-harm."

"It's like a toothache—the pain isn't actually in the tooth but in the nerve endings; yet when a toothache becomes extreme, many people will self‑inflict, clenching their jaws hard or even brushing their teeth until they bleed."

"So?"

Jiang Haochen seemed to have thought of something, his expression shifting slightly as he asked.

"So, when all means fail to stop phantom limb pain, people can only amputate the connected part."

Andre spoke word by word, tilting his head toward the operating table:

"Sen Tian Zhen Yi couldn't bear the pain from his eye; he felt there was still something inside his eye socket, and if he couldn't find it, it must be in his head."

"So, he must have ultimately chosen to cut off his own head!"

As his words fell, before Jiang Haochen could even startle, they heard a clatter, and the ceiling above them actually dropped down.

A blood‑stained white sheet of paper drifted down slowly.

Written on it was a sentence.

"If there were no hand, would the hand still hurt..."

"Then if there were no head..."

"Would the head still hurt?!"

"Damn!"

Jiang Haochen's face turned pale as he looked at the message Sen Tian Zhen Yi had written on the white paper, feeling his scalp about to explode.

He instinctively glanced at the nearby operating table, and in his eyes flashed the image of Sen Tian Zhen Yi sitting bolt‑upright on the table, slowly taking a scalpel and cutting off his own head!

"This madman! He actually cut off his own head?!"

Jiang Haochen had barely finished speaking when he realized something, hastily dropping the paper, grabbing Andre, and preparing to rush out.

"Andre! Are you saying that guy died right here?!"

"Damn it! Why didn't you mention this sooner? We should be running! Why are you making me stay and finish reading this?!"

With his left hand gripping Andre and his right hand clutching a weapon, Jiang Haochen's face turned ashen as he scanned the surroundings, feeling that something would burst out any second.

Yet faced with his panic, Andre simply shoved his hand away and gave a bitter laugh:

"Do you know why I said it's already too late?"

"Jiang Haochen, didn't you consider that Sen Tian Zhen Yi came here by car? But we saw his car at the villa..."

"So..."

"That guy, after cutting off his head, drove back and has been staying at the villa."

"If nothing unexpected happened, he's actually been following us from behind all along."

"Now.."

"Thud... thud... thud.."

This almost confirmed Andre's judgment.

Before Jiang Haochen could even turn his head toward the sound,

the next second, a series of resentful, low moans suddenly erupted from the stairwell.

"It hurts... I'm in so much pain..."

"My head..."

"It hurts so much ah ah ah ah!!!"

Only on the dim staircase did one see a headless body carrying its own head, swaying as it walked over.

In its hand, the severed head was missing an eye, its mouth opening and closing, repeatedly speaking of its own pain.

"Run!! Andre!! Damn it, what are you still thinking about!! It's here!!"

"Can't go out! I'm trying to figure out its weakness! Give me some time!"

"Dong! Dong!! Dong!!"

Fresh blood splashed.

Jiang Haochen desperately braced his back against the operating room's iron door; wave after wave of tremendous impacts almost shook his viscera loose.

His hands and feet felt somewhat weak.

Just moments ago, as he was closing the door, he saw Sen Tian Zhen Yi rushing forward, carrying his own head!

At this moment.

Sen Tian Zhen Yi, locked outside the door, blankly held his own head and repeatedly smashed it against the door!

"It hurts... my head... it hurts so much!!"