Fu Tailan pressed play on the video again.
He had already watched the same clip twice, and the third time, naturally, nothing had changed:
Amidst gasps from the crowd, a tall figure tumbled out of the apartment's floor-to-ceiling window. He barely managed to grab an outward-opening window, dangled for a few seconds, then plunged straight into a cushion on the sidewalk—the giant goat head on his neck leaving a white blur in the night.
"I swear, you couldn't see a goat head with the naked eye,"
The phone's camera panned to a young man's face. He looked shocked and excited, stressing to the camera, "I looked at my screen just now and was totally dumbfounded. The guy who fell wasn't wearing any goat head, so how did one show up on the screen? Is it some kind of signal interference or something—"
Fu Tailan turned off the video.
It was impossible to tell from the video that the person who fell was Chaisi.
Carter took back his phone, his expression unchanged.
