"Don't hurry to get up." At this time, the person sitting on the single sofa opposite Doroth spoke, his voice low and steady. "The medicine has not yet passed, and you will feel a little nauseous and dizzy."

At this moment, it was finally clear before my eyes. Dorothy slowly turned his head and turned his gaze to the source of the sound. "...Professor Baudelaire?" The tall and thin old man with white hair on the sofa opposite was actually the sociology professor she had met this morning. "What's going on?"

She struggled to sit up, Dorothy leaned against the sofa and quietly checked her condition - her skirt was complete and her shoes were there, but her chain bag was missing. Her head was still dizzy and her limbs couldn't use strength.

[Does not be afraid, you just fainted] The system comforts softly.

"Don't worry," he raised his hand and poured a cup of hot tea for the student he liked very much. Baudelaire turned a blind eye to the little girl's vigilant and suspicious look. "When the medicine is over, there will be no sequelae." He signaled Dorothy to drink tea.

Relying on the soft and comfortable sofa seat, Doroth looked at her sociology professor with her eyes. Professor Baudelaire is French, said to be unmarried and has no children. He is respected in the academic circle and is very popular with students. She has little interaction with this professor on weekdays.

But why did he kidnap himself?

"Thank you." It is the most unwise choice to anger the other party at this time. Dorothy tried to sit up straight, stretched out his hand to pick up the teacup, and then...

"Sorry, Professor". Without strength in her hands, she naturally sprinkled some of the black tea in the cup.

"It's okay." Baudelaire didn't care about the students' tricks. He even took his handkerchief and handed it to Dorothy and asked her to wipe her hands.

There was a silence in the wine cellar.

Dorothy carefully wiped the tea on her hands. The wine cellar should be located underground. From waking up to now, she has never heard any sound from outside from beginning to end.

You should know that in Manhattan, where there are crowds and every inch of land, it is not easy to find such a quiet place.

Her heart sank.

"I think you must have a lot of questions." I felt that the heat was probably enough, so Baudelaire spoke again.

"Yes." Dorothy felt that her head was no longer as dizzy as she woke up.

"Then please come with me before answering your question." Baudelaire took out his pocket watch and looked at it, confirming that the others were ready at this time. He stood up, and the tall and thin French old man, gentleman and gracefully signaled the students opposite to him to follow him.

Dorothy had no choice but to keep up. Fortunately, she began to feel that her body had recovered some strength.

The heels of the high heels made a crisp "dial" sound when they stepped on the floor tiles. Dorothy followed the old man and walked out of the wine cellar. He climbed up the stairs and a carved wooden door was opened, and the scene inside made her shudder.

A man was kneeling on the ground with his back facing the door, his white shirt was stained with blood. Looking at the source of the blood spray, the sleeve on the man's right was empty - he was cut off his right arm.

His eyes looked upward, a middle-aged man holding a bone saw in one hand raised the arm that had just been cut off and looked at it. He seemed to feel unsatisfied enough. He threw it away casually and threw his arm to the ground.

On the beautiful knitted carpet with complex patterns, a lonely arm lies beside a wine barrel, as if mocking Dorothy's timidity.
Chapter completed!