Alex squatted down, showing no fear in front of the bloody scene. Due to his job, he frequently came into contact with corpses, so he also understood a bit of the know-how involved.
He observed the pool of blood carefully; the fresh blood on the ground was in a strong splatter pattern, proving that the arteries had been severed while the heart was beating very fast.
Looking around the four directions, he detected nothing unusual, no signs of a struggle. The dead man's two hands were severed from the wrists, the cut unusually smooth, revealing white bone and fresh red muscle fibers, neat as if cut by an extremely sharp blade or a laser beam; ordinary crude weapons could absolutely not create such a terrifyingly perfect wound.
He was just about to reach out and grab the corpse's wrist to look closer at the cut when his own wrist was tightly grabbed by the captain of the Light guards standing nearby. The hand encased in cold iron armor squeezed his hand tight.
