"Why are the people in this village putting heads in tanks like that? Shouldn't they be buried for peace? Is this the funeral ritual they value?" Li Jing asked in confusion.
They had spent half a day listening to the local funeral customs, and yet they were putting people's heads in tanks like pickled vegetables. It was disgusting.
These two heads were not the ones from the portrait on the wall; they were two outsiders from the group photo Wen Nannan had seen yesterday.
"Oil lamp." Lu Huai spoke, and Wen Nannan immediately took down the oil lamp hanging on the wall and handed it to him.
In the initial supplies the game gave them, there was a lighter. They poured the oil onto a cloth, set it on fire, and threw it into the tanks. The nauseating smell, accompanied by black smoke, spread in the air, and it seemed there were also sounds of struggling and screaming.
Everyone left the house; the smell was truly unbearable.
Li Jing: "Does this really work?"