They're here.
"You must be curious about the markings on your legs, aren't you?"
"You guessed right, they're words."
Herbert crouched beside the coffin, hands on its edge, smilingly studying Eliza's subtle reaction, and added thoughtfully:
"And they are counting words; you can simply understand that with each stroke written, there's an added count."
Eliza: Counting words?
"You, you..."
Eliza's eyes widened in shock at Herbert, seeing him nod seriously.
???
She clamped her mouth shut, biting her teeth even harder, almost enough to crack them.
You—you, you not only did it but recorded each time?
Every time, a stroke?
Though Eliza couldn't precisely count how many strokes the "正" character added up to, it was definitely more than thirty...
How long have I been unconscious!!?
How long have you been at it?
And that wasn't even the worst.
What truly drove Eliza to the brink was her overly vivid imagination she couldn't control.
Yes, that's the curse of a good imagination.
