Eric Bennett nodded, his heart suddenly tightening. He thought to himself: Is it really that exaggerated? Could it be that there’s a pile of poop or some kind of Crayon Shin-chan graffiti tattooed on his back? If that were true, he wouldn’t want to live anymore.

Anyway, now that he had the thing, he didn’t need to worry about appearances. He quickly opened the envelope, reached inside, and felt a few thin sheets of paper. Pulling them out, he saw they were several color photos printed on printer paper.

The moment he pulled them out, he caught a glimpse of the envelope’s heading and realized it wasn’t from the hospital—it was from the Xicheng District Public Security Bureau in Beijing. Unconsciously, he really did slow down as he pulled the photos out.

But even so, no matter how slow he was, when he saw the photos, Eric Bennett was still stunned. In that instant, he couldn’t believe that was his own back. But he didn’t cry out; the images in the photos held his gaze firmly, and a chill rose from the soles of his feet. He suddenly realized that Grace Thompson had a reason for not wanting him to look right away.

These photos were clearly taken at the scene. His back was covered in blood and filth, and just looking at the amount of blood made him feel sick. He was rather thin, with hardly any flesh on his back, which made the wounds look even more terrifying, as if the bones were already exposed.

But he knew the wounds weren’t actually that deep—if they were, there’s no way he’d be able to get up and walk now.

If he were to describe them in detail, there was a lot more that could be said about the wounds, but Eric Bennett’s attention was quickly drawn to the shape formed by all the wounds together, and he ignored everything else.

At first glance, he saw that the wounds on his entire back formed the pattern of a hand. And it wasn’t an ordinary hand—this hand had seven fingers. Inside the hand pattern, he saw countless tiny characters. He didn’t recognize any of them; they were so small, with many strokes being very simple, definitely not Chinese characters.

He couldn’t imagine what that man had done to him after he lost consciousness—what kind of pervert would it take to carve so many tiny marks on his back?

“Four hours. He spent at least four hours carving on your back, missing the best window for emergency treatment. You could say, he died just to carve this pattern on your back.”

“This guy... is a pervert?” Eric Bennett muttered. “Damn him, why didn’t he just go ahead and draw the Along the River During the Qingming Festival on my back!”

“No, he’s definitely not a pervert.” Grace Thompson looked at him with a bit of pity. “If I told you who this person is, you’d be even more scared.”

Sand Sea I: Phantom Shadows in the Desert

Chapter Four Samuel Cooper

Grace Thompson looked at him mysteriously. Eric Bennett was a bit puzzled, thinking: I’m not even close to you, so why the hell are you being so secretive? Damn, if anyone’s going to be mysterious with me, it should be my old man, not you. But seeing Grace Thompson’s expression, he had no choice but to play along: “So who is that person?”

“Technically, I don’t know either. That’s the police’s business. But I’m your doctor, so I interact with them a lot. That’s how I happened to hear a bit of news.” Grace Thompson said, “Someone who could do something like this is obviously not an ordinary person.”

“So who exactly is it?” Eric Bennett cursed inwardly at her for dragging it out twice—does she think she’s writing a tomb-raiding novel? He pressed on, “Can you stop being so mysterious?”

“Want to know? Treat me to a meal.” Grace Thompson said, looking at him teasingly.

Eric Bennett frowned, thinking: What’s with this lady doctor? Is she out of her mind, or does she just want to flirt with me because I’m young and handsome?

Eric Bennett was well aware of his own looks. He knew he could fool some young girls, but attracting a mature woman like this was clearly impossible. Maybe she was just bored, but just because you’re bored doesn’t mean I have to play along.

“Hey, I’m a student, I don’t have much money. Are you really okay with extorting me?” He deliberately emphasized the word “student,” hoping she’d go easy on him. Grace Thompson pulled a few red bills out of the drawer: “These were in your clothes when you were brought in. It’s not much, you can’t afford Jiangzhe Hui, but you can at least buy some stewed offal.”

Eric Bennett took the money and saw it was stained with blood, which made him shudder. He said, “I borrowed this from a friend. I was planning to use it to hide out for a few days, but now it looks like I don’t need to. I should return it to him.”

“Cut it out. Don’t you want to know what really happened to your back?” Grace Thompson glanced at her watch, took off her white coat, and pulled out a pair of high heels from under the desk to put on.

Only then did Eric Bennett realize that this lady doctor wasn’t nearly as old as he’d imagined—at most, she’d just graduated from college. She was petite, with beautifully shaped legs that dazzled him for a moment.

So the white coat really does hide a lot, Eric Bennett thought. Grace Thompson hooked his arm and led him out, saying, “Come on, I’ll help you with the discharge paperwork.”

Grace Thompson’s hand was very soft. Having never been close to a woman before, Eric Bennett was a bit dazed, thinking: Is this what they call a romantic encounter? Damn, this is way too lucky. Does this woman have a thing for guys whose backs are carved up like a pizza?

“Discharge? I can be discharged already?” he asked, a little dazed.

“Are you a man or not? Stop being so wishy-washy. I’m going with you, what are you afraid of?” Grace Thompson pulled him out of the office, turning off the light as she went.