Era of Magic and Martial Arts-Chapter 378 - 362: Maniac?

"Boom——"

The flames instantly engulfed his entire body. In that moment, what he felt was not just the excruciating pain of his skin being roasted, but a complete collapse.

His consciousness seemed to be shattered into fragments by the raging fire, each piece imprinted with — Zone 9 Patrol Office Forensic Pathology Report sdecs-458.

"Am I reliving the death from the autopsy report?"

Chen Yang wanted to scream, wanted to howl, but only a hoarse breath came out of his throat.

His jaw was forcibly dislocated, making even making a sound a luxury.

He twisted and struggled within the flames, like an insect set on fire, flailing wildly in the blaze, each spasm of his limbs seeming like the final struggle for survival.

He crashed into the furniture, fell to the floor, and got back up.

He struggled madly, trying to extinguish the flames on his body, but it was all in vain.

The fire burned ever hotter, his vision began to blur, his consciousness gradually scattered.

Finally, like a beast driven to desperation, he used all his remaining strength, charging fiercely at the path to freedom — the window.

"Crash——"

The sound of glass shattering tore through the dark night sky, as the fiery, fleshy figure leapt out of the window, the night wind howling past his ears, taking with it his last strands of consciousness.

His body traced an arc of flames and thick smoke in the air, like a burning meteor, announcing his end with a spine-chilling posture.

"Thud——"

The sound of the impact was dull and terrifying, like a rusty iron block hitting the muddy ground.

The ground trembled slightly!

The flames continued to stubbornly burn on his body, crackling and popping.

The firelight illuminated his face, that once young and ambitious face now twisted and deformed, skin charred black, flesh and blood mangled, leaving only a bizarre heap of charred flesh, like a mask from hell.

Upstairs, by the window, a man with a snake-face mask stood silently.

His gaze, through the eye holes of the mask, coldly fixed on the burning body below, as if admiring his own masterpiece.

The night breeze swept by, rustling the hem of his garment with a soft whisper.

He slowly took out a stack of paper documents from his arms, the edges of the pages slightly worn from repeated reading.

"It’s late..."

He murmured to himself, a sinister laugh of pleasure seeped from beneath the mask,

"Junior sister has been training so diligently lately, she doesn’t even have time to sleep. I, as senior brother, should take on some of this crude work for her."

As he spoke, his fingers flicked gently, one corner of the document caught fire, and the flames quickly spread, consuming the paper.

The blaze reflected on his mask, making the snake-face’s pattern appear particularly insidious:

"Otherwise, if junior sister keeps not growing taller, wouldn’t that make it junior brother’s fault? That wouldn’t be nice!"

His laughter was sickly and eerie, like an invisible serpent spiraling up from his feet, stealthily sneaking into the night...

Downstairs, Feng Ju stood at the scene of Chen Yang’s death, eyes fixated on the charred corpse beneath his feet.

He stood upright, as if his body still upheld a certain majesty, but within, his mind was in turmoil, a creeping fear slowly consuming his rationality.

The night was pitch-black, the air thick with the stench of burning flesh, mixed with the metallic scent of blood and accelerant, nauseating.

Chen Yang’s body, burned beyond recognition, blackened skin cracked to reveal the dark red flesh within, limbs twisted into a grotesque pose.

Though the flames had been extinguished, wisps of blue smoke still rose from the body, silently narrating the despair and agony before death.

Theoretically, this case had nothing to do with him. He was currently pursuing [Mask] and needn’t have come, but upon hearing of Chen Yang’s death, Feng Ju was the first to lead the team to the scene.

Feng Ju squatted down, refusing to wear gloves, his black mechanical fingers wouldn’t leave fingerprints anyway.

He reached out to gently peel away the charred skin, revealing a wound that pierced through the back.

The edges of the wound were clean, the blade had entered from the back, precisely avoiding the ribs, piercing straight into the lungs.

"This technique?!!"

Feng Ju’s pupils contracted suddenly, memories of this morning’s autopsy report flashing in his mind.

It was the report falsified by Chen Yang and the forensic expert Bai Ye, intended to frame Feng Mu, but unexpectedly... the autopsy report became his own end?!!

The deceased was first stabbed through the lungs, then doused in oil and burned, finally falling to death from a great height... Chen Yang’s manner of death was identical to the autopsy report he had concocted himself!

"That rebellious son Feng Mu..." Feng Ju murmured, his voice tinged with a complex emotion.

As he got out of the car, his gaze swept over the surroundings, each detail silently telling him — this was the handiwork of the rebellious son.

He had guessed the son would retaliate against Chen Yang, but that the revenge would come so swiftly, so ruthlessly, without leaving Chen Yang alive past tonight, and in such an identical manner.

A chill arose in Feng Ju’s heart, as if a cold serpent crawled up his spine, coiling around his heart, tightening slowly.

"I’ve already accepted that this rebellious son is no longer what he was, that he has grown much, but to think he has grown to such a vicious and ruthless extent!"

The charred corpse was more convincing than any report card, Feng Ju’s throat went dry, recalling how last night he wanted to reprimand the rebellious son for not even handling a murder tidily.

Unlike himself, leading a team, rampaging and slaughtering several [Mask], yet doing it seamlessly, never expecting that the rebellious son was taking a different path altogether.

As the father, secretly killing, covering up the crime;

As the son, flagrantly killing, exonerating himself openly;

Who is stronger, who is weaker, who is higher, who is lower?

For a moment, Feng Ju found it difficult to make a comparison, but his face had grown darker than the charred corpse, a peculiar anxiety gnawing at his mind.

He always thought he understood his useless son, but now he suddenly realized that he might have never truly understood Feng Mu.

"This rebellious son acts so brazenly, so maliciously, like a madman, not just that, he holds fierce grudges, unwilling to let go, completely reckless!"

Feng Ju stood up, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and placing it at his lips, waiting, but Dong Ping hadn’t come over with the lighter.

Feng Ju grunted in displeasure, awakening Dong Ping from his stupor, who quickly moved his gaze away from the charred body, hurriedly pulling out a lighter to light Feng Ju’s cigarette.

Dong Ping cautiously inquired:

"Captain Feng, how should we handle this case?"

The lights of the blue and white car shone on Feng Ju’s face, casting half in blue and half in white, his mind in turmoil, deeply inhaling the cigarette as he replied:

"What do you think?"

Dong Ping swallowed, chuckling dryly:

"Chen Yang took bribes, forged evidence, committed grave sins, seeing no future, thus committed suicide out of guilt, setting himself on fire?"

Feng Ju didn’t answer immediately, just quietly smoked a cigarette, his gaze landing on the charred body.

In his mind, Feng Mu’s face surfaced — young and cold, those eyes in the darkness seemingly blood-tinged.

Feng Ju began to truly realize:

Feng Mu was no longer the worthless son he always thought, but had grown more ruthless, more cruel, more dangerous and uncontrollable than himself... a madman!!

Could such a Feng Mu still be tethered back home with familial affection?

Feng Ju deeply inhaled the cigarette, exhaling smoke rings after a while, said tiredly:

"Alright, do as you said. Take the body back to the office first, and burn it at the crematorium after the forensic report is out."