Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 137: Secrets Within The Walls

Nancy lowered her voice and chuckled. "Our Snowball has the 'Scent of a Hero.' It’s not smelly at all!"

The weasel immediately began grooming its tiny paws in embarrassment, its furry cheeks seemingly flushing a faint shade of pink.

"You still dare to hang around here? This is none of your business. Get lost!"

Nancy looked up to see several of Brendan’s lackeys surrounding her. Their expressions were hostile, and they formed a human wall in front of the holdout's entrance, effectively blocking her path. Clearly, they were determined to prevent Nancy from having any contact with the homeowner.

"Heh, you think you can just swoop in and steal a slice of the pie from a professional demolition firm?" one underling sneered, puffing on a cigarette as he looked her up and down with disdain.

"Exactly. Nowadays, every stray cat and dog thinks they can play the big shot!" another chimed in, his voice dripping with mockery.

Nancy simply watched their performance with a cold gaze. Once they had finished their posturing, she suddenly curved her eyes into a particularly "concerned" smile. "You gentlemen have said so much. Aren't you tired? Aren't you thirsty?"

As she spoke, she smilingly lifted Snowball—the weasel who had just performed a great service—and held him out toward them.

The men’s expressions changed instantly. As if they were looking at a weapon of mass destruction, they scrambled back several paces, their voices cracking. "D-don't come any closer!"

The lingering scent of what had happened to Brendan was still haunting their nostrils. They weren't eager for a second round.

Nancy didn't bother wasting any more time with the lackeys. Holding the weasel, she began to walk slowly around the perimeter of the house, carefully observing its structural layout. She quickly noticed that while the house looked quite old, there were patches of fresh plaster and paint on the exterior walls that looked out of place.

As she paced along the foundation with Snowball, the little creature in her arms suddenly grew restless. He stood up, his pink nose twitching rapidly as he sniffed the air.

"Get closer to that wall. Let me get a good whiff!" Snowball tugged at her sleeve, sounding urgent.

Nancy complied, moving cautiously toward the side of the building. To her surprise, Snowball leaped from her arms, sniffed around the base of the wall, and found an old, exposed drainage pipe. With a swift whoosh, the little white figure darted inside and vanished.

Nancy’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She didn't dare call out for him, so she could only pace anxiously outside, waiting. Her heart was racing. Weasels have an incredibly sensitive sense of smell, capable of detecting the most subtle scent molecules in the air. What exactly had Snowball detected to make him dive in so recklessly?

Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Just as Nancy was about to lose her composure, a familiar white shape nimbly slipped out of a ventilation duct high on the wall.

"Snowball!" Nancy let out a long breath of relief and hurried forward to catch him. "You scared the life out of me! You're still injured; you need to take it easy!"

She realized the little fluffball in her arms was trembling violently. She immediately stroked the back of his neck to soothe him. "What’s wrong, Snowball? Did you run into the owner inside?"

Nancy frowned. "Did they hurt you?"

Snowball’s fur looked a bit dusty, but otherwise, he seemed physically fine. However, his claws dug deep into Nancy’s clothes. "I smelled... a lot of people in the walls..."

Nancy’s body went stiff. A chill crawled up her spine. She looked at the walls of the old house. "People... inside the walls?"

Snowball’s head bobbed frantically, his voice shaking with terror. "It’s... it’s the smell of rotting human bodies! Right there, inside that wall!"

He buried his furry head into Nancy’s chest, shivering. "Waaaaah... I’m never going in there again! It’s too scary!"

Hearing this, Nancy immediately took several large steps back, putting distance between herself and the building. Even though it was broad daylight and the sun was shining, she felt an icy chill rise from the soles of her feet.

She knew that animals like weasels were effectively "underground detectives." They didn't like chasing prey in open fields; they excelled at "flushing out" small animals hiding deep in burrows, under snow, or in rock crevices. In Snowball’s worldview, a concrete wall was no different from a large dirt mound—it was just another "cover" that could be investigated.

No matter how thick a cement wall is, it is never perfectly airtight. Microscopic scent molecules will always seep through the cracks. And Snowball’s sensitive nose had captured that exact, horrifying scent of death drifting from the seams.

Nancy carried Snowball far away from the "nail house" until she found a secluded spot. She immediately dialed Simon’s number.

"Something has happened!"