Chapter 696 Who is the chef?
Real world, sixteenth floor.
The blood on Fang Shenyan's face had been wiped clean, but his glasses were missing.
But even without glasses, you can still see the sparkle in his bright eyes.
He has never been a short-sighted person.
As for why we wear glasses, no one knows the reason behind it.
On the sixteenth floor, there is no one here.
Although it was the first time I came to the store manager job, the scene in front of me was nothing special.
There were many sundries and shoe racks placed in the narrow and elongated corridor, making the already crowded aisle even more crowded.
The smell in the corridor was not pleasant, so Fang Shenyan covered his mouth and nose and walked forward slowly.
The corridor had been quiet, and he hadn't heard any movement since he got off the elevator.
The houses on both sides also closed their doors tightly, and there was no sound inside.
When Fang Shenyan passed through 1604, his eyes caught a glimpse of a huge black garbage bag placed in front of the house.
I don’t know what’s in the garbage bag, but it doesn’t seem like there’s much in it.
His vision could not penetrate the surface, but he saw streaks of dark yellow turbid liquid oozing out from under the garbage bag.
Because Fang Shenyan had close contact with Mu Nianmei when she was a child, she was extremely impressed by this black plastic bag.
He always felt that there was nothing good in it, so he slowly leaned down.
"Zizzizi..."
But just as he was about to open it, a strange noise suddenly came from deep in the corridor.
The sound was like freshly washed pork falling into a frying pan, frying in fat.
Fang Shenyan slowly straightened up. He followed the sound and saw oil smoke floating out from the door of a room in front of him.
Based on his character, once he is about to do something, he will not be interrupted immediately.
But for some reason, when the sound sounded, especially when the smell of oil smoke became stronger and stronger, he walked forward involuntarily.
And when Fang Shenyan's back slowly walked towards the room.
Behind his sight, the first illusory shadow suddenly appeared.
He takes a step and it takes a step.
The shadow kept pace with him, silently.
Immediately afterwards, a second shadow appeared, a third, a fourth...
By the time Fang Shenyan walked into the house that opened the door, the shadow behind him had filled the entire sixteenth floor.
Fang Shenyan, who was completely unaware of all this, stood at the door and frowned, but stopped in his tracks.
This house is two to three times larger than Ruru's house.
The overall space is huge, but there is very little furniture, and you can’t even feel any atmosphere of life.
As far as the eye can see, there are white ceilings, white walls and white floor tiles.
A touch of dark yellow liquid was splashed on the pure white floor tiles at the door of the room.
It is similar to the liquid seen in the corridor, but it is clearer.
Fang Shenyan lowered his head and glanced at it, and saw his own face inside.
In this house with three bedrooms and one living room, the living room is empty and there is nothing.
The empty look made Fang Shenyan a little confused as to where this place was.
What really made him wonder was where the oil smoke came from.
When we arrived at the house, the "sizzling" sound continued, and the smell of oil smoke became stronger.
Fang Shenyan covered her nose, glanced down at the liquid at her feet, and headed towards the smoke.
This is a kitchen of about ten square meters, with a long and wide stove and many pots and pans.
He walked in from the door and looked at them one by one.
From left to right, a huge stainless steel basin is empty.
There was just some solidified grease in the basin. He took a brief look and found it yellow and greasy.
In the second stainless steel one, it was the same scene, but it looked very clean.
In the third stainless steel basin, there were some black things remaining.
With just a fleeting glance, the annoyance between Fang Shenyan's brows became more and more obvious.
He looked at these stainless steel basins with a heartfelt feeling of resistance.
But he did not rush to a conclusion because the clues in front of him were incomplete.
Finally, he saw the oil pan still being heated at high temperature on the stove.
This large pot was mostly filled with dark yellow oil, and hot butter was bubbling up and down in the oil pot.
No one.
There is no one here.
But the pot is heating, the oil is churning, and something is cooking and frying.
Fang Shenyan looked at the pitch-black pot handle. He didn't want to smell this smell anymore, and slowly put his hand on the stove, preparing to turn off the heat. However, just as he touched the switch, a flash of lightning suddenly flashed in his mind.
There was a sharp pain in his head, as if he had been hit in the back of the head with a sharp axe.
Frame after frame of strange pictures and fragments of broken fragments were squeezed into the brain at the same time.
……
A palm wearing a sleeve and a rubber glove appeared on the screen.
All he could see was the back of his hand, and something was grasped in his palm, as if he was kneading it.
After a moment, something was thrown into the hot oil pan.
Once inside, it's like water and fire colliding together, producing scorching high temperatures and thick white smoke.
It was rolling and turning inside, and flour fell on the bottom of the pot in layers, but it was still impossible to see through what was wrapped inside.
The owner of the palm, without pausing, took another object from the right side and threw it into the pot.
……
It's just such a no-brainer, fried scene.
Fang Shenyan subconsciously looked at the right side of the oil pan, where there were only some oil stains.
This picture is a locked perspective, the container does not enter the picture.
He frowned, but finally turned off the fire, looked at the butter still churning in the pan, and moved away.
Following the last experience, he came to install the third stainless steel basin.
After he touched it gently with his hand, sure enough, the sharp pain hit him again.
A gray sack, bulging inside, as if it was full of things.
This time, he saw two hands, untying the rope of the sack at the same time, and moving the contents out.
Judging from the sleeves and gloves, these are the hands of the same person, and the same person as before.
Fang Shenyan tentatively called him a "chef".
What the chef took out of the sack was something snow-white.
It's just that the picture is obscure and blurry, making it difficult for people to see what it is.
He didn't even wash them, but just threw the pig's trotters from the sack into the pot.
For some reason, Fang Shenyan always felt very familiar when looking at it.
It's as if he has seen...
But it is impossible to see it.
Every time he throws five, he has to blow them up and fish them out, then throws five more, and repeats in sequence.
Because the screen skipped too quickly and the perspective was locked, Fang Shenyan's observation was not detailed enough.
He really wanted to take a look at what the inside of the sack looked like, but the picture just stopped there.
In the other basin, the situation was similar.
On the left is a meat stuffing machine and on the right is a chopping board.
The chef kept churning the stuffing in the meat stuffing machine, throwing it on the chopping board, rolling up his sleeves and kneading it with a rolling pin.
After kneading each one, he threw one into the pot.
Fang Shenyan was like an outsider, watching every move of the chef silently.
These actions seemed random and normal, but he felt more and more disgusting, irritable, and weird.
The last stainless steel basin.
This time, the chef changed the props again.
Boning knives, mincing knives, wooden piers, and rib bones.
The chef skillfully used the boning knife to cut into something vague.
Place the long and slender object on the wooden pier and cut it into small pieces with the knife in your hand.
A series of actions flow smoothly and repeatedly, like an infinite loop of the same scene.
Fang Shenyan observed the muted clips. He had almost finished reading it, but he didn't find any abnormalities.
But he was already convinced that what brought him to the sixteenth floor must be something in this room.
Since that thing wants to show him this, it must have its purpose or reveal clues.
What exactly is it?
The clip ended, frozen in the last frame, but he couldn't find the answer.
Until...
Just when he was about to retract his mind, he suddenly discovered a terrifying fact in the last frame.
Under the dim yellow sunlight, the chef raised the meat cleaver and performed the normal motion of cutting meat.
But the smooth and broad back of the knife flashed an arc in the air, like a mirror reflecting something terrible.
The back of the knife reflected the chef's true face.
It was a face that Fang Shenyan was very familiar with, and he saw it every day.
Because that face is none other than himself!