The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 2571 Xiao Xiao Down (Fifty-Five)

Schiller stood leisurely at the door of the police station.

He used his hands to straighten his cuffs, which were wrinkled from driving, and checked whether the umbrella he used this afternoon was covered with dirt. Finally, he walked over and picked up the sculpture that Gordon had thrown away, and patted the dust off it.

The police station was in chaos.

After Gordon made a few phone calls, his capable men drove to the police station one after another. After arriving, they picked up their guns and rushed into the police station. After a while, they rushed out in the same unrestrained manner, looking up at the sky and the earth, doubting the world.

None of the seven or eight people who came at this moment dared to touch the thing on the ground.

The main thing is that after Gordon put the main body of the sculpture down, it gained a certain degree of freedom of movement. It kept twisting on the ground, and the blood from the stitches seeped out, leaving black and red marks on the skin. The brightly colored stitches running through it made it look even more terrifying.

Schiller walked to the door of the police station lobby and looked through the revolving door. Gordon and his subordinates were all holding guns. They looked at each other, and their expressions seemed to say, "Deal with this thing? Me?"

"Schiller!" Gordon shouted helplessly, "I didn't ask you to come here just to watch!"

"I thought you were a little rude to me on the phone earlier..."

"It's already this late and yet...Okay, Professor Schiller, I shouldn't say so many dirty words, okay?"

"I mean, I think your definition of a killer is a little off..."

Gordon couldn't help it anymore, and cursed again, then said to his subordinates: "Call Jonathan Klein! And that Valentine, Pamela, Jack..."

The subordinate immediately began to look through the address book and made phone calls for a long time. Pamela was too busy and Jack was asleep, so in the end only Jonathan and Valentine came.

After a while, the two men finally arrived, and when they saw Schiller, they both smiled mysteriously at the same time.

Walking into the lobby of the police station, the two men saw the thing still squirming on the ground, and their steps became hesitant.

Jonathan immediately looked up at the string of rope hanging from the beam of the police station. He almost instantly imagined what the original work looked like. Then he shook his head with some regret and said, "You shouldn't have put it down. It's such a perfect sculpture."

"I kind of want to go to Mexico," Valentine sighed.

"I didn't ask you here to be sad, get this thing away!" Gordon yelled at them.

Jonathan shrugged and said, "I think the current form is another way of expressing this artwork. I don't want to destroy it..."

"Get the fuck out of here!!!"

Jonathan waved his hand, signaling Gordon to be patient. He walked forward and squatted on the ground, checked the state of the human skin callus, then waved to Valentine and said, "It seems this is your job."

Valentine walked over, reached out and pulled the outer layer of skin of the ear back, and sure enough, he found the knife wound behind the ear.

"Give me a pair of scissors," said Valentine.

The policeman next to him immediately brought him a pair of scissors, but they were the kind of blunt-tipped scissors commonly used in offices. Valentine sneered in dissatisfaction and said, "If you still want to leave more evidence for the forensic doctor, go find a pair of professional surgical scissors."

At this time, a pair of surgical scissors was handed to Valentine. Valentine looked up and saw that the hand holding the scissors was pale, unlike the police's. It was Schiller.

Valentine said nothing, took the scissors, gently cut along the invisible sutures of the wound behind the ear, removed the upper stitches very carefully, and then cut open the sutured incision on the scalp from bottom to top.

"Incredible..." Valentine muttered to himself, "Judging from the traces of suture fusion, this person has been dead for no more than 12 hours. To be able to perfectly suture the whole body within 12 hours, he must be a top surgeon."

Gordon's ears immediately pricked up, and several of his subordinates turned on the recording equipment without him saying anything.

“More importantly, all these sutures were made very precisely and the stitches were done with perfect accuracy. Perhaps he had already thought about what kind of work he wanted to create before he made the cuts.”

"Because only a sufficiently invisible incision will not allow the surgical sutures to affect the effect of these decorative sutures, and will not be the main attraction, but will..."

"Can you please stop talking?" Gordon said, "I know you are a serial killer with great artistic taste, or you can save it for a court date."

Valentine curled his lips and did not continue talking. His hands moved slowly, and could even be described as cautious.

It was precisely because he did not want to damage the incisions and sutures with too quick movements that the human skin was removed in the same way it was wrapped.

The head was divided into two parts, with the incision running from behind the ear all the way upwards. The skin of the entire back of the head was intact. What was amazing was that the skin of the facial features was also intact. It was not cut open and then sewn together separately, but a whole human skin mask.

When the last stitch was cut, Valentine carefully peeled off the skin on the face as if it were a treasure.

It was Clay's face that was revealed.

He jumped up suddenly like a resurrected zombie, took a deep breath and started vomiting wildly again. However, because of his violent movements, more blood seeped out of the stitches and wounds, and several policemen retreated further away.

"Would you be more quiet?" Valentine said. "These decorative lines are sewn into your skin. Doesn't it hurt you to struggle like this?"

Clay just made meaningless screams. Valentine leaned over to take a closer look and found that his lips were also sewn up, also using invisible stitches, and the sewing was very delicate.

"Looks like we need to let him calm down." Jonathan turned around and looked at Gordon.

Gordon turned his head away, with an expression that said, "Do whatever you want. I didn't see anything."

Jonathan took out an injection and injected it into Clay's neck. Not long after, Clay rolled his eyes and passed out. This allowed Valentine to finally work quietly.

Soon he had peeled off the entire skin.

This piece of human skin was surprisingly intact, with only one complete incision from the armpit to the ankle on the right arm, and no other parts were cut.

Putting aside how he managed to stuff the person in using only this one incision, the key point is that he could use this one incision to peel off the skin, which is simply a work of ingenuity.

Valentine couldn't help sighing as he looked at the intact human skin.

Now without the internal support of the human body, the human skin cocoon is presented to the public more completely. It looks like a dress for the Day of the Dead. If people were not told that it was made of human skin, they would surely marvel at the craftsman's ingenuity and superb aesthetics.

More importantly, after Clay's struggle, blood flowed out from the stitches, soaking the stitches that were originally too bright in color into a uniform black and red tone.

The parts that struggle and bleed more violently, such as the joints, become more similar in color to the color of blood, while the parts that haven't moved much remain their original bright color, which presents a gorgeous gradient on the slightly darker skin, like a transition from life to death.

The death of a person is not the end. Everything about his life will become the cocoon of another person, either strangling the larva and suffocating it, or allowing it to break out of the cocoon and be reborn, as if foreshadowing the traditional Aztec proverb - "The dead are in the coffin, and the living are reveling."

There was silence in the room for a moment.

After a while, Gordon let out a long sigh, waved to his subordinates, and asked them to carry Clay, who was covered in blood, onto a stretcher and send him to the hospital.

When Clay woke up, he was wrapped in bandages. Gordon and several policemen were talking to each other, while Schiller, Jonathan and Valentine were standing by the door.

Clay screamed when he woke up, and his face turned even paler when he saw Schiller. He struggled to break free from the quilt, and shouted, "You damn murderer!!!"

"Commissioner Gordon, why don't you arrest him?! He sealed me in a human skin!! He is a damn pervert, a lunatic..."

Schiller turned and walked toward him.

Clay's roar came to an abrupt end.

With a pale face, he kept moving towards the head of the bed, shouting fiercely: "Don't come over! I'm a policeman! Don't..."

"Are you feeling better? Mr. Clay, it looks like Jonathan overdosed on medication and is causing you to have some hallucinations."

"I'm not hallucinating, it's just you..."

"Tell me what happened." Gordon interrupted Clay's meaningless shouting and said, "Start from the moment you left the police station this afternoon. Don't miss any details."

"I drove to a manor to investigate..."

"What time? What car did you drive? What manor did you go to?" Gordon said impatiently, "You are also a professional criminal investigation graduate. You don't need me to teach you these elements."

"It was around 3 p.m., and I drove the police vehicle assigned to me to...Rodriguez Manor."

"First, I allow you to investigate, but I don't give you the right to use the car. Second, you'd better not tell me that you have entered the manor."

Gordon's eyes became more and more hostile, but Clay yelled at him: "It's already this late, and you still care about these rules and regulations? I was almost killed by a terrifying murderer!!"

Gordon tried hard to hide his bad expression and said, "Can you say that your dangerous situation has nothing to do with your reckless actions?"

“You are blaming the victim!”

"Did you actually enter the manor?"

"so what?!"

Gordon finally couldn't hold it in any longer. His face was darker than the bottom of a pot. Finally, he stood up, looked at Schiller and said, "I'm sorry, professor. I should have signed his dismissal letter in advance."

"Do you think this relieves you of responsibility?"

"I mean, if this is the case, we can arrest him directly without going through the internal review process." Gordon pursed his lips tightly and said, "If he is not a policeman now, he is breaking into a private house, but now he is, so he is breaking the law."

"I just wanted to investigate the murderer's hometown!"

"So, did you find any evidence?"

"What more evidence do you need? He kidnapped me and sewed me into a human skin..."

"Great, so where is the crime scene?"

"How should I know?! I was knocked unconscious by him, but I must be in his manor!"

"Any witnesses?"

Clay opened his mouth, immediately looked at Brock in the police team and said, "He went to investigate with me, he must have seen it!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't see anything," Brock said. "I just heard a thump in the backyard, and then you disappeared, and I had to leave on my own."

"But I was attacked at the Rodriguez estate!" Clay yelled.

"But you shouldn't have been at Rodriguez Manor," Gordon said.

"You must have been bribed by him, you damned black cop!"

The atmosphere in the whole place froze.