Only after confirming there really were no guards outside did they joyfully and excitedly flee. Iris had been calling out for ages with no one paying attention to her. She could only nervously watch these people running out, afraid she'd miss her father. But she only saw unfamiliar faces. Nearly everyone had escaped. Then, one person at the very end looked at her with pity, pointed to a door at the far back, and said, "Maybe try looking in that room." Iris froze. There were other rooms inside? She thanked him and quickly hurried over. The closer she got to the door, the stronger the smell of blood became, seeping through the crack. Next to the door hung a sign made from cardboard with three words written neatly in black marker. The Slaughter Room. Iris's whole body began to tremble. She'd heard that female gang leader's order and was certain her father had been taken to the livestock pens. Since he wasn't with the other human-sheep, there was a high probability he was in ... She stared fixedly at the door before her, unable to bring herself to open it for a long time. After giving herself a brief pep talk, she finally took a deep breath and pushed the door. The door was locked. Iris pushed several times but couldn't get it open. Fortunately, this was just an ordinary door, not like those impenetrable doors in the labor camp. She threw all her weight into it several times and successfully broke through. As the door swung open and Iris looked up, she saw a man's mangled body hanging upside down. Iris jumped in fright, let out a scream, and nearly fainted from terror. Fighting back her fear, she trembled as she approached for a closer look. After confirming it wasn't her father, she breathed a sigh of relief. This seemed to be the man who'd been with Rosalie's mother. Derek was now completely lifeless, even drained of all his blood. Iris had never seen a dead body in her entire life. After confirming it wasn't her father, she didn't dare to look again and forced herself to continue deeper inside. The environment here was extremely dim. Though there was a window, whether because the fog outside was too thick or the atmosphere here too oppressive, the room remained gloomy and cold. Blood was splattered everywhere on the floor and walls. Various spine-chilling tools hung on the surrounding walls, most of the blades already crusted with dried blood. The work clothes hanging in the corner made Iris think of psycho killers from horror movies. Most eye-catching were the two cold operating tables in the center. They were carelessly covered with cloths, beneath which you could vaguely make out something placed there. Anyone could guess what operating tables in a slaughter room were for. So Iris didn't dare to get any closer. She just looked around while quietly calling for her father. "Dad, where are you? "Dad, are you okay?" She called out several times with no response. There were no other doors around, so Iris had no choice but to turn her attention back to those two operating tables. Her heart pounded like a drum as she tremblingly lifted the cloth on the first operating table. What met her eyes was an unfamiliar woman who'd been half-dismembered. Looking at this extremely horrifying scene, Iris suddenly bent over and vomited. This place was literally hell on earth! She missed her mother so much, missed their warm, clean home ... Iris vomited and cried at the same time. After a long while, she barely managed to catch her breath, then nervously went to lift the cloth on the other operating table. After seeing clearly who was on it, her heart sank completely. This was her father. Her father, torn into pieces. Like being struck by lightning, Iris didn't cry this time. Instead, she carefully examined the person on the operating table. At first glance, it really was her father. The prominent nose bridge, thick lips, and that stubble he could never quite shave clean ... But for some reason, the more Iris looked, the more this man seemed like a stranger. Her father's mouth was always turned up in a smile. Could this person with downturned lips really be her father? She looked at the man's severed hand. The ring finger still wore a platinum ring. Iris recognized this ring. It was the wedding ring her father had custom-made when he got married, matching her mother's. He'd never taken it off. Could this really be her father? Her gaze shifted to the man's pale, bloodless face, and she stared blankly at him for a while.No! This wasn't her dad! Her father wasn't this pale. It must be this strange man who resembled her father who'd stolen his wedding ring! Iris suddenly turned around and strode quickly outside. My father isn't here. He must have gone home first! She needed to hurry back. She'd see her father as soon as she got home. Just as she emerged from the slaughter room, she saw the person who'd given her directions earlier still standing there. Seeing Iris come out, they asked with some concern, "Did you find your father?" Iris shook her head repeatedly. "No."