A Long-Standing Grudge (5)

A gloomy, desolate atmosphere hung over the crime scene.

Perhaps sensing the strong smell of blood, an expensive air freshener diligently sprayed fragrant scents into the air, but in the end, it only gave the place the drooping feeling of a funeral hall with a wreath set down in it.

I carefully surveyed the crime scene.

On the marble dining table, the food had gone cold and was arranged neatly in rows.

Although it was a considerable amount for a single-person household, the tableware laid out on the table was enough for only one person.

On the spotless floor, without a speck of dust just like the grocery store I managed, there was a strange piece of trash that stood out in contrast.

What more is there to say?

Lying in a sea of blood decorated with shards of broken glass was Michael’s target for revenge—the chief of staff who had reported our grocery store.

Daniel Bentley.

‘A sharp kitchen knife is lodged in his chest. A body that has lost its heart, the pump that circulates blood, hangs limp like a balloon with all the air let out. Until moments ago, he was a living person, but not anymore. He is a perfectly dead corpse.’...