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墨書 Inktalez
Gasping, panting, even in the darkness, even with his mouth tightly sealed, his rapid breaths could still be heard.
The Oxygen Molecules carrying Hemoglobin circulated through his body, drawn in and expelled through those two small openings, in and out, in and out. Oh, how marvelous.
As the men engaged in their contrasting acts of withdrawal and penetration within those women’s bodies, they too would emit such hurried breaths.
Listen, that sound—it is the frantic footsteps of a lost fawn suddenly confronted by a hungry leopard, the fluttering wings of a Dragonfly ensnared in a net after a futile struggle, the desperate splashes of fish at the edge of death in a dried-up pond. Have you ever experienced the sensation of gripping a Little Bird by its delicate neck and squeezing hard, feeling its struggling, fluffy body gradually cease its movements, stiffen, and grow cold? It’s akin to the first time at fifteen, bursting forth with the aid of a Pornographic Magazine, hissing with Pleasure! Intense Pleasure!
I crept closer to the door, inching nearer and nearer. I could no longer hear his struggles; he had no strength left to fight.
What a pity, what a great pity! I recalled his fierce resistance when I ambushed him—the struggle where both sides exerted their utmost effort, filled with power and shifting positions—a true clash of equals… Pleasure!
I suddenly flung open the door and turned on the light.
In the pristine white bathtub, he was bound like a zongzi, squinting against the intrusive brightness. Those eyes that once held surprise, anger, and surrender had lost their spark. The obstruction in his mouth made his cheeks bulge oddly, resembling a large-faced Golden-Mantled Ground Squirrel.
He was actually quite a handsome young man—no, no, in just a few minutes he would be merely a once-handsome young man. I smiled amicably as I placed the knife, rope, gasoline, and lighter on the closed toilet seat. I was pleased to see the fear in his eyes rekindle.
Sometimes, choice can be an incredibly cruel thing. But considering that attractive individuals often receive more opportunities, I still felt compelled to adhere to certain established norms. I am a reasonable person. So I pushed several items back toward him and humbly invited him to make his own choice.
A strong odor wafted through the air. How rude! Fortunately, I had the foresight to toss him into the bathtub beforehand.
I frowned coldly at the trembling figure desperately shaking his head; I found his lack of control quite distasteful. Thus, I chose the rope for him. After all, repeat offenders and serial killers are behaviors typical of those who are deranged. The most wondrous aspect of life’s journey should be its constant change. So I set aside the knife.
Gasoline and a lighter, ha, do you think I enjoy the smell of burnt things? Who told you that the options provided to you are guaranteed to satisfy? Sometimes that option is merely a backdrop. As for the rope, it was born from my sudden curiosity—wondering if his elongated tongue could dislodge the obstruction tightly wrapped in layers of tape...
The powder residue on the aluminum foil was the source of Cyanide found in Li Yuecheng's body, along with some remnants of Antidepressants. There were several incomplete fingerprints of Li Yuecheng on the paper, while a clear fingerprint of his right hand was found on the stemmed glass, perfectly intact. No other fingerprints were present.
At 9 AM, Zhao Lang was flipping through a thick stack of clippings about Li Yuecheng that had been gathered in just two hours. Indeed, for such a super entertainment superstar, even news published in the past month alone could fill his hands with paper. Although the materials Zhao Lang had were still substantial, they had already been filtered multiple times by several officers from all available publications in libraries over the past year.
The points of suspicion were quite concentrated. From previous reports, Li Yuecheng seemed to be a star with a very respectable private life. After 18 years in the industry, he had no rumored partners, no tabloid tales of nightlife escapades, and no complaints from any directors or producers he had worked with about tardiness or diva behavior. The only sensational stories that entertainment journalists could latch onto were about reckless driving and rumored drug dependency.
However, six months ago, the most outrageous and sensational negative news about Li Yuecheng broke: a magazine suddenly revealed that he had made a cameo role in a well-known film twenty years ago, playing a sleazy character who bullied the female lead and exposed his entire back and half of his profile. Reporters scrambled to find the film's footage, resulting in images obscured by mosaics and a surge of illegal pirated copies.
Li Yuecheng did not debut 18 years ago; he had changed his name and deliberately concealed that incident from twenty years prior. Everything that began with a lie was built on lies, even if the initial lie was made 18 years ago. His fervent fans turned into angry critics because they were convinced of this fact. The good image Li Yuecheng had carefully maintained for 18 years and the respect and status he earned in the industry crumbled overnight under an avalanche of ridicule and doubt.
After that incident, Li Yuecheng's emotions plummeted further as reports emerged about him drinking heavily at night and assaulting staff members, adding fuel to the fire. His long-term use of Antidepressants and painkillers finally came to light. The company chose to put Li Yuecheng on ice, publicly claiming he was pursuing further studies.
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