Harry naturally stepped forward and tore open the fabric, revealing the corpse beneath. In his mind, he had subconsciously considered himself a junior member of the team.
As the fabric was torn away, the complete form of the corpse was exposed.
The body was lying prone, its left cheek against the ground and its right cheek facing up, reminiscent of someone sprawled on a bed. The top of the head, near the right ear, was slightly indented and covered with a dense mass of writhing maggots.
"FK, I admit, the guy has definitely been dead for a few days," Harry said, looking at the maggots with disgust. He felt like he was going to lose his appetite tonight.
The maggots seemed to be feasting merrily.
The body had become their best source of nourishment.
"To be exact, the victim has been dead for seventy-two hours," Dean pointed at the squirming maggots and commented. "Often, we can make an initial estimate of the time of death based on the development cycle of the maggots."
