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墨書 Inktalez
Old Chen pinned the surveillance screenshot onto the wardrobe door, the cuff of Cap Man glinting coldly in the frame. "This morning, I found out that this 'Xunda Communications' is registered at an abandoned garage."
He suddenly picked up a metal fragment from inside the sliding rail with tweezers. "It's consistent with the material in the groove on the windowsill."
I ran my fingers over four scratch marks on the inside of the door panel, nail polish chips glistening under the bright light like congealed droplets of blood.
In a live stream replay from three days ago, Lin Xue had pointed at the wardrobe and joked, "My guardian angel is hiding here." At this moment, where the angel's carved eye socket was, a half-threaded metal piece was embedded.
"A mechanical timing device," Xiao Zhang said as he pried open the top decorative panel. The deformed gear set emitted a grating sound that made my teeth ache. "Once set, the steel wire will pull open the cabinet door and simultaneously trigger..." He suddenly paused, pulling out a half-cut electric wire from between the gears. "This thing is connected to the lighting in the live stream room!"
A chill ran down my spine as I recalled the blinding light that flashed just before the fall; it was likely that the victim instinctively recoiled from the sudden brightness, while the steel wire set up outside was waiting to pull her into the abyss.
The door to the evidence room burst open, and intern Xiao Liu rushed in holding a tablet. "Lin Xue's phone data has been recovered! The last call record is..." He suddenly stuttered, "Labeled 'dear,' but the owner is..."
Old Chen snatched the tablet away, his pupils dilating sharply. The name displayed on the screen plunged the entire evidence room into silence—Zhang Mingyuan, a wanted criminal who had raped and murdered three female streamers three years ago, specifically targeting rainy nights using mechanical devices.
"Impossible!" Xiao Zhang tore off his gloves. "Zhang Mingyuan was supposed to be at the Yunnan border last month..." His voice trailed off as a man in a duckbill cap appeared on surveillance footage, raising his right hand in a magnified frame; a centipede-like scar was clearly visible at his thumb.
The testimony of the only survivor from back then flashed through my mind: "He has a scar on his right hand's thumb where seven stitches were used..."
Amidst the roar of rain pounding against the window glass, Old Chen's walkie-talkie suddenly crackled to life. "Chen! There are suspicious individuals attempting to..." The static swallowed up the rest of his sentence as gunfire faintly echoed through twenty floors.
As we rushed towards the elevator, the property manager trembled while handing over a registration book. "That maintenance worker... he repaired Room 1704's internet last night..." My blood ran cold—Lin Xue lived right across from someone who had showered her with over a million gifts.
09:15 Mechanical Device Analysis
Xiao Zhang aimed a 3D scanner at the gear set. "The timer is set for 23:54; the steel wire connects through the ceiling cavity to an external pulley." The holographic projection displayed a precise transmission system. "The killer installed it seven days in advance, choosing Lin Xue's streaming times for every maintenance check."
Suddenly, I recalled something from the victim's secondary Weibo account. Two weeks ago, she had posted a pixelated photo with a caption saying, "The new chandelier is so noisy." In hindsight, it was clearly someone installing equipment in her ceiling.
09:47 Surveillance Suspicion
In the surveillance video, Cap Man pressed the button for the 17th floor at 23:31. However, when I sharpened the image twenty times, I noticed a slight bulge at his glove's index finger—hidden beneath it was a couple's ring identical to Lin Xue's.
"Check Zhang Mingyuan's marital status!" Old Chen suddenly shouted into his phone. "Focus on whether he has participated in..." A loud crash interrupted his command as alarms blared from the direction of the underground parking lot throughout the building.
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