"Heh heh... From what I've found out, you don't eat indiscriminately, do you."
Unfortunately, facing Fu Qian's "candor," Marianne still seemed unsatisfied.
"Every brain is carefully cooked, and even the methods vary. You only eat the right eye, too."
It was clear she didn't mind letting Fu Qian realize how well she understood the situation.
"And it's obvious that you have your own insistence on the freshness of ingredients. When the last victim was found, their breathing hadn't even completely stopped."
"So much so that more than one person suspects whether your acts of slaughter are for venting anger or satisfying your particular dietary habits... In fact, this is why you haven't been directly hanged. Many people are interested in what's going on in your head, and now, of course, I am too."
As Marianne spoke, the fleshy tendrils extending from her body circled around Fu Qian's head, aiming squarely at his eyes.
