Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes.

Chapter 313, Section 60: Formalin

"I've never fought such a rich battle before!"

On the plane, Kurosaki Chimei excitedly slammed the compiled documents on the table, his eyes fixed intently on Heisei Ryu sitting opposite him.

The game provided so many clues, each one quite obvious, that he had roughly deduced the Ripper's hatred of knowledge, even pinpointing which medical school it was located at.

Even the thought process behind it can be roughly estimated.

In those days, even if one passed the exam, most ordinary people could not afford the cost of medical school. However, there were medical schools for the common people, and if they gritted their teeth, they might be able to scrape together the money.

The biggest problem is that, based on the game information revealed by players, the Ripper may not have even crossed the knowledge threshold.

"We won't even mention the aristocratic medical schools; based on the current clues, it's impossible for the Ripper to get in. As for the more affordable hospitals, the most likely candidates, especially in London, are the four medical schools: London Hospital, Westminster, Middlesex, and University College London."

"The London Hospital Medical School is the most likely candidate, as it is located on Whitechapel Road and is now part of Queen Mary University of London."

"Considering that the Ripper works at the church, whether part-time or full-time, he would probably prioritize the nearest college, and in terms of tuition fees, it seems to be the cheapest one."

After listening quietly, Ping Shenglong poured cold water on the idea: "Back then, admission basically required a letter of recommendation or a guarantee, and I doubt the Ripper could produce one."

Kurosaki's smile froze; he had completely forgotten about the recommendation letter system.

“He can work at the church, so he should be able to get a letter of recommendation or a guarantee, right?” Even though Ping Shenglong said that, he still thought the London Hospital Medical School was the most likely candidate.

In real history, the Ripper, unable to pass the entrance exam, harbored resentment towards the school and its students. He chose to kill people nearby, while also framing medical students at the hospital to make the public suspect them of murder—killing two birds with one stone.

“I don’t know.” Ping Shenglong also guessed. “I only know for sure that the two institutions that explicitly did not require recommendation letters at the time have now been merged into the UCL Medical School.”

"Judging from the pastor's attitude towards him, he basically had no status or connections, let alone the ability to obtain a letter of recommendation. At this point, a medical school that does not require a letter of recommendation is the most important thing for him, regardless of whether he can pass the exam."

"However, one thing needs further confirmation: does the countdown mentioned by Muramasa Taki mean that we can disrupt the ritual before then and completely avoid the disaster, or does it mean that we can only wait for the ritual to begin and then analyze the key points based on the clues revealed?"

"What's more, preparations for the ceremony are already underway?"

After Heisei Ryu finished speaking, he noticed that Kurosaki Chimei was looking at him with a look of satisfaction.

"What's that look in your face?"

"I thought your brain was being consumed by official duties, and you'd end up like one of those brainless leaders. But when it's needed, your brain can still function." Kurosaki's words were loaded with meaning.

Ping Shenglong knew that this was an implication that he had been spending far more time on scheming than on studying the extraordinary lately.

"If I climb higher, won't I be able to better control the direction and avoid being placed under a leader who doesn't understand the situation but gives orders haphazardly?"

"There's nothing wrong with it."

Kurosaki Chimei didn't intend to persuade Heisei Ryu to give up his power struggle with just a few words. Let's get back to the main topic:

"Of the five victims, only the last one, Kelly, is of value. Her death was very ritualistic and her heart was removed, but too much time has passed, and the relationships between them cannot be reconstructed and found."

"However, one piece of information is worth noting: those plaques marking murder scenes today may not actually be the scene itself; they may be located quite a distance away, originally inside another building."

Earlier.

UCL Medical School

This is the original site of Middlesex Hospital. The old pathology building stood here since the Victorian era until it was finally decommissioned a few years ago. As a preserved building, it still quietly and silently watches over the changes of the college and London.

The red bricks have been stained dark brown by rain and dust, and the ivy climbing the wall looks a bit like capillaries to medical students.

Adam and Lisa stood in front of the rusty iron gate, exchanging bitter smiles.

"Professor Hawkins really knows how to train us." Adam kicked at the half-withered weeds in front of the door, his voice tinged with a hint of complaint.

Lisa didn't say anything, she just tightened her thin coat.

It was afternoon, and the September sun was still quite warm, but standing in front of this building, she felt a chill creeping up her spine.

As they unlocked the creaking door, a whiff of musty smell mixed with some kind of chemical reagent hit them, causing both of them to instinctively take a step back.

"Merlin's socks, that smell." Lisa covered her mouth and nose.

“You’ll get used to it; it’s a medical student’s daily routine.” Adam shrugged, trying to sound casual, but Lisa noticed his Adam’s apple bob nervously.

Inside the door was a long corridor with peeling, mottled walls that revealed the dark yellow interior.

When the lights are turned on, the dim light from the somewhat old lamps barely illuminates the staircase leading to the basement.

The two put on protective gear, such as masks and gloves.

"Are you sure we want to go down by ourselves?" Lisa asked hesitantly.

Adam waved the tablet in his hand, then glanced at the scanner in the other person's hand: "The professor said that digitizing sample registration is a great learning opportunity, and it's paid. Besides—"

He deliberately lowered his voice, "—Are you afraid of ghosts?"

Lisa rolled her eyes at him, but her hand involuntarily grabbed Adam's sleeve.

The iron staircase leading to the basement clattered loudly with every step, particularly jarring in the quiet building. The lower you went, the colder it got, and the stronger the smell of formaldehyde became; your mask couldn't block it out at all.

“Formalin,” Adam joked, “the perfume of medical students.”

Lisa was unmoved by this lame joke that was even older than her.

Her nose was more sensitive, and the familiar scent seemed almost too strong.

The basement has several rooms and is larger than I expected.

Under the dim light, numerous glass containers were arranged on metal shelves, forming a forest of specimens.

Each container contains suspended human organs, maintaining an eerie sense of life in the murky liquid.

In the center of the room was a row of stone troughs containing intact corpses, their skin grayish-white and slightly swollen from being soaked in a solution.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Adam opened his tablet, deliberately raising his voice to bolster his courage. “Where should we begin? Should we play a song? Let the seniors hear some new-age music?”

Lisa didn't answer. She was staring into the depths of the room, where the shadows were particularly heavy, and the shelves seemed to stretch endlessly into the darkness.

"Can you smell it?" she asked softly.

"Formalin? Of course, it's everywhere here."

"No, it's even stronger. It's like a bottle was just broken."

Adam took off his mask, sniffed like a dog, and shook his head. "You're being paranoid. Come on, let's finish this quickly and get out of this hellhole."

Lisa hesitated, realizing she was indeed acting a bit strangely.

They started registering from the shelf by the door.

Lisa scanned the data, Adam checked the list, and affixed updated labels. Time passed in silence, broken only by the ticking of the tablet's input confirmations and their breathing.

Occasionally, there would be a ticking sound, or a slight creaking noise from somewhere in the building, which would startle Lisa each time.

“Relax,” Adam said, not remembering how many times he had said this. “They’re all specimens, dead as they come. If you put me in them, I wouldn’t last five minutes.”

"Sometimes I think about changing things up, just quietly soaking in formaldehyde, maybe that wouldn't be so bad."

Just then, Lisa's flashlight shone on a puddle of water on the shelf. Following the trail, she gasped.

"Adam, look at this."

Adam was interrupted as he looked in the direction of Lisa's flashlight, which pointed to the top of the metal cabinet.

An organ bottle was broken, with shards of glass scattered across the shelves and floor, soaking the surrounding area. The organ that should have been inside was gone, leaving only a few pieces of some unknown remnant stuck to the glass shards.

“That was a close call,” Adam frowned. “I need to make a note of this—wait a minute.”

He crouched down, dipped his finger in the liquid, and brought it to his nose.

"This amount has hardly evaporated; it's fresh?"

The two exchanged a glance and simultaneously felt a chill run down their spines.

According to the professor, they were the only guests in the basement for nearly a month, and no one else should have come.

Even if someone came and broke the bottle, the formaldehyde should have evaporated completely.

Rats? Rats, being such light creatures, would probably become specimens the very next day if they came to this place.

Clang!

As I pondered this, a clear sound of shattering glass came from deep within the room.

Another organ bottle has been broken.

Lisa was so frightened she almost screamed, quickly covering her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.

Adam jumped to his feet, nearly dropping the tablet in his hands.

“Who’s there?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the vast space.

No answer. *Clang!*

Another crisp sound rang out, this time even closer and faster.

It looked like something was moving rapidly between the shelves, casually knocking over containers along the way.

Adam raised his flashlight, the beam swaying among the densely packed specimen bottles, casting leaping shadows.

Something tall was moving behind a shelf in the distance; they could see its shadow but not its actual form.

“Go, go, we must!” Lisa’s voice trembled so much she could barely speak.

Adam, pale-faced, nodded quickly, and the two of them turned and ran towards the door. Lisa even left the scanner and flashlight behind.

Just then, all the lights in the basement suddenly went out.

"Ahhh!!"

"Adam, where are you?!"

"I'm right next to you!"

"No, I can't touch you... Waaah, don't leave me!"

"Come to the door quickly!"

In the darkness, the only remaining flashlight flickered, the smell of formaldehyde was suffocating, and a sticky, dragging sound grew closer, like something wet moving across the ground, approaching them.

“Phone, light it up!” Adam cried, his voice trembling with tears.

Lisa shakily pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. As the beam swept across, they saw the bottles on the shelf in front of them swaying, as if something had just passed by.

They stumbled and ran through the specimen maze, their hearts pounding, with the entrance just ten meters ahead.

Suddenly, a dark figure appeared in front of the door, blocking their hopes of escape.

Lisa and Adamton remained rooted to the spot, breathing heavily, as the beam of light slowly rose, and their bodies gradually stiffened.

All they could see was a human-shaped outline, but no skin, muscles, or even a skeleton.

Its body is composed of suspended organs, with a heart beating slowly in the chest cavity, lungs contracting and expanding with non-existent breathing, and intestines twisted like braids in the abdominal cavity.

All the organs were dripping wet with formalin, reflecting a grayish-white light under the cell phone's glow.

Its face consisted of two cloudy eyes staring at them, seemingly with a smile in them.

"Let's switch as you suggested."

The sound seemed to be coming from underwater, a gurgling sound accompanied by the sloshing of liquid.

“No ah ah ah!!!”

Adam and Lisa’s screams echoed in the basement before abruptly ceasing.

Shortly afterward, the basement door was pushed open.

Clang, clang—that's the sound of walking on the iron staircase.

Adam and Lisa went outside and stood in the afternoon sun. Their movements were somewhat stiff, and their steps were unusually synchronized.

Lisa raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight, and a smile slowly spread across her face.

“It’s our turn,” she said softly, her voice carrying an unfamiliar tone.

Adam nodded and touched the stitches on the back of his head.

“Yes,” he said, “it’s time for class.”

Early morning, main building of the medical school.

Jack ran down the corridor, panting, the hem of his white lab coat fluttering in the wind. He was late; the anatomy lab should have started seven minutes ago, and Professor Hawkins hated being late.

He hurriedly put his phone in the locker, pushed open the door to the dissection room, but the expected scolding didn't come. In fact, the twenty-odd students in the dissection room were standing around the dissection table, chatting and laughing; the teacher was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Professor Hawkins?" Jack asked a classmate breathlessly.

"I don't know, looks like I'm late." The classmate chuckled.

A moment later, Professor Hawkins, whom they had been talking about, walked in wearing a lab coat, but Jack noticed that the professor's cuffs were damp, and the smell of formaldehyde seemed to have become even stronger as he entered.

However, this is not surprising; it is as normal for anatomy professors to smell of formaldehyde as it is for bakers to smell of flour.

“Sorry, Professor,” Jack said honestly, suspecting that the professor had seen him entering the dissection room from outside. “I overslept.”

Professor Hawkins turned his head, his movements somewhat slow. Dark shadows were under his eyes, and his expression was much stiffer than usual.

“It’s alright, Jack,” the professor said in a flat, indifferent voice, “just in time.”

Professor Hawkins walked to the front of the classroom and looked around at the students. His gaze seemed to linger on each student's face for a moment, as if he were taking attendance.

He began by saying, "Today is anatomy class, and we will be conducting a special anatomical practice."

The professor called on five students, including the one Jack had just spoken to: "Come with me to the preparation room and bring out the cadaver."

Generally, cadavers are transported by technicians, so it's rare for them to come and move them, but they certainly wouldn't be afraid.

The students whose names were called walked out of the line with a bit of excitement, left the dissection room, and headed to the preparation room.

Not long after, they returned pushing five stretcher carts, each carrying a human-shaped object covered with a white cloth on a stainless steel tray.

The students whispered in surprise.

Is it Chinese New Year? Or are they dreaming? How could a teacher be so extravagant as to dissect five cadavers in one class?

Professor Hawkins gestured for the stretcher to be pushed to the center of the classroom. The five students who had just gone to move the body stood near the door, blocking the exit.

Jack suddenly felt uneasy. Something about this arrangement was strange. Were they waiting for something at the door?

“Today, we will learn the essential parts of human anatomy,” the professor said, lifting the white sheet from the first corpse.

The male corpse was pale and intact, with his eyes closed as if he were asleep.

Professor Hawkins picked up the dissection instruments, but unexpectedly did not go to the cadaver, but instead turned to the student who was closest to him and looked bewildered.

"To understand the human body, to understand anatomy," the professor said, his voice suddenly taking on an eerie tone, "the best way is to experience it firsthand."

Just then, the cadaver on the cart moved.

He slowly sat up, his pale skin trembling slightly under the light.

He opened his closed eyes, revealing cloudy vitreous humor, and stared directly at the nearest girl in front of him.

The students stared wide-eyed as the cadaver rose and the professor's scalpel was plunged effortlessly into a person's throat.

Blood splattered; this was not an illusion.

The dissection room erupted in a tsunami of screams.

The students backed away in fear, some knocking over equipment trays, and stainless steel tools clattered and scattered all over the floor.

"The door!" someone shouted. "Let us out!"

Jack turned his head and saw that the five students guarding the door were standing motionless. The door was locked, and they were holding all sorts of random tools to block the way and attacking anyone who approached indiscriminately.

Their faces bore the exact same incongruous smiles. Their eyes were vacant, like, like—

Just like the cadavers on stage.

Jack turned around abruptly and saw that all the corpses had sat up and were clumsily climbing off the stretcher, picking up scalpels and pointing them at the nearest person.

The students huddled together in panic, and without cell phones, they could only try to use various tools to protect themselves.

Professor Hawkins stood beside the podium, looking at the chaotic scene, and finally a smile appeared on his face.

"Today's class is anatomy," the professor emphasized, his voice strangely clear amidst the noise.

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the terrified young faces. His mouth stretched almost to his ears. In the shadows on the whiteboard, the sutures on the backs of Professor Hawkins and the cadavers were broken, their organs twisting and floating as if they had come to life, complete with noses and eyes, a chaotic dance of demons that drove the students to the brink of mental collapse.

It felt like being in a cult movie.

"The objects of dissection are you."

Jack finally broke down.

What does it mean when the cadaver in anatomy class stands up?!
What do you mean we're the objects of dissection?!

Even Resident Evil isn't as terrifying as the monsters they're facing now!
If I had known, he might as well have skipped class today!

(End of this chapter)