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墨書 Inktalez
At that moment, Li Danan was outside calling out, and the village chief had already begun gathering the villagers.
"Let's go," I said to everyone.
Guan Zengbin shook his head and said, "How can I face others looking like this? I need to wash up and fix my hair. You all go ahead; the village is small, and I can find my way."
I shrugged and replied to Guan Zengbin, "Then why do you dare to show up looking like a mess in front of us?"
Guan Zengbin shot me a glare but said nothing as he walked into the house.
Watching Guan Zengbin's retreating figure, Gu Chen chuckled and said, "Isn't it obvious that they consider you one of their own? You’re sharp when analyzing cases, but when it comes to situations like this, you act like a wooden block. Come on, wooden block, let’s go meet the village chief."
I shook my head and pushed open the door to step outside. Li Danan was still trying to repeat himself, but upon seeing me emerge, he swallowed his words. After a moment, Li Danan spoke again, "Officer, the village chief sent me to call you. The villagers have started gathering at the Community Committee's entrance; he asked me to bring you over."
We lined up in a single file and headed toward the Village Committee. The narrow path through the village had been worn down by footsteps, just wide enough for a single foot to tread upon. It reminded me of the saying: there was originally no path in this world; it only became a path because many people walked it.
After walking for a while, we saw many villagers making their way into the large courtyard of the Community Committee.
Li Danan remarked, "Most of the villagers are already here."
As we entered the Village Committee, we saw that indeed, the village chief had gathered everyone. The courtyard was packed with people standing closely together. As we passed by them, it became evident that most were disabled. Occasionally, there were able-bodied individuals accompanied by those with disabilities.
However, even among these so-called able-bodied people, we couldn't tell if they were deaf-mutes or blind.
In front of these individuals stood a makeshift platform that had been set up at some point; the Old Village Chief was currently addressing the crowd from atop it.
Upon seeing us arrive, the Old Village Chief said, "You all are here, come up! The villagers have gathered almost completely."
We walked up the slope beside the platform and stood on it, allowing us to see the villagers below clearly. At that moment, the crowd appeared dark and dense, with many looking listless, likely having risen too early. Some began to murmur among themselves, questioning what this gathering was about.
Before long, the Old Village Chief had a large megaphone in his hand. He tested the volume and then said with satisfaction, "Villagers of Tou Gou Zi Village, look around you and see who is still missing! Quiet down, everyone; check if there are any villagers who have not yet arrived."
As he spoke, the villagers began to look around.
After a short while, someone shouted, "Old Xia doesn't seem to be here."
"Is everyone else here?" the Old Village Chief called out. "Aside from Old Xia, is everyone else present?"
"Everyone's here, everyone's here," several voices responded.
The Old Village Chief put down the megaphone and turned to us. "Old Xia has been sent to guard the west entrance of the village, and that other one is at the market east of the village. As for the rest of you, let me count... it seems like everyone else is here. There are only so many villagers; let me say a few words."
I nodded and began searching among the more than three hundred people for someone who matched my Criminal Profiling characteristics. However, after a quick glance around, I couldn't spot anyone among the villagers who fit my mental image of a Criminal. I felt that my Criminal Profiling might have been off.
Criminal Profiling has evolved primarily from crimes committed by thrill killers; if the Murderer isn't a thrill killer, then my depiction of the Criminal could be skewed. But if it wasn't due to some perverse desire to kill, then it would likely fall into one of several conventional motives for murder.
From human instincts, we categorize murder motives into a few simple types: crimes of passion, love-related murders, revenge killings, financial gain murders, and rape and murder.
Unless there are more elusive motives behind the Murderer's actions, their reasons for killing would likely fall into these categories. From a criminological perspective, crimes of passion are often impulsive acts; very few would resort to dismemberment afterward. Murders for financial gain rarely involve dismemberment either.
Then, only the motives of passion killings, revenge killings, and rape and murder remained.
These three motives for murder are deeper than the previous two. They belong to premeditated murder, where the killer has already considered how to dispose of the body beforehand.
So, what kind of mindset would a murderer have?
At this moment, the Old Village Chief seemed to reach a climax as he "briefly spoke." One hand held a megaphone while the other waved in the air. "Think about it, think about it! This demon could be hiding among us. I know our villagers would never do such a thing, but we must be cautious; we cannot let our guard down."
"You all saw it," the Old Village Chief continued. "The murderer dared to commit such an act under the open sky; this is a blatant provocation! If the murderer is truly among you, I advise you to turn yourselves in quickly! Regardless of your intentions or what you plan to do, just stop."
At this point, the Old Village Chief appeared somewhat earnest. He said, "No matter the reason or how justified it may seem, how can one escape the law after taking a life? Just stop!"
I looked at the Old Village Chief; there seemed to be unspoken words in his gaze.
The Old Village Chief sighed and then turned to look at me.
I leaned closer to his ear and said, "I was wrong in my earlier assumptions, but I am certain that the murderer must be a villager. However, we cannot alert them; there may be two murderers. With the heavy snow blocking the roads, if they become ruthless, our villagers are disabled and may not be able to help."
The Old Village Chief stared at me for a moment before scanning the villagers in the courtyard, seemingly trying to identify the two murderers hidden among these three hundred villagers. Yet every face bore an expression that screamed 'I am not the murderer,' making it impossible to discern anything from their expressions.
The hardest thing to see through in this world is the human heart. There is a saying that one's appearance reflects their heart; I disagree. Often, those who seem harmless at first glance—those who do not look like murderers—are more likely to deceive you and commit acts you could never believe possible.
The Old Village Chief said, "I've told you everything I needed to say; some matters are best handled with care. The net of justice is vast and does not miss its mark; this is not just empty talk. That murderer from Silver City escaped for over twenty years but was still caught in the end."
"The police can't catch me," the Old Village Chief said slowly, "but can you escape the grasp of your conscience?"
"Everyone disperse," he waved his hand.
The villagers scattered, and the Old Village Chief looked at us. "Since we can be sure that the murderer is among these three hundred people, how about we search their houses one by one? The body only had an arm and a leg; where are the rest of the remains? They must still be in the village."
I shook my head. "No, we can't do that. The murderer might not hide the body in their own yard, and if we search them one by one, it will blatantly tell the murderer that we have no evidence. In that case, the murderer might feel relieved."
"And," I continued, "if our actions frighten the murderer into stopping their disposal of bodies, it will become much harder for us to catch them. As you know, there are still many bodies that haven't been disposed of yet. If we don't take action, the murderer will continue to discard them."
"Dammit," Gu Chen cursed. "Isn't the murderer supposed to give us some surprises?"
When Guan Zengbin found us, the villagers had already dispersed.
At eleven o'clock in the morning, the officer responsible for collecting evidence finally arrived.
Seeing him looking worn out and exhausted, it was clear he had been through a lot.
"This road outside is blocked by snow," he said. "I could only drive to the main road. It took me at least four hours to get here. I left at seven this morning and just arrived now. I need to leave early this afternoon; it's too terrifying to walk alone here at night. Where are the items you wanted me to bring?"
The Old Village Chief replied, "Officer, you've worked hard. Come to my house to rest for a bit; have lunch before you leave. That way Captain Zhou can give you the items."
As we spoke, we made our way to the Old Village Chief's home. Guan Zengbin handed over each piece of evidence to the officer and instructed him on how to check everything once he got to the provincial capital. The officer took notes diligently, recording everything carefully.
After finishing these tasks, it was already noon, just in time for lunch. The Old Village Chief's wife brought out a steaming bowl of dumplings, accompanied by several stir-fried dishes that smelled delicious.
The Old Village Chief smiled and said, "My wife may not be good at many things, but her cooking is exceptional. Everyone should try her skills."
My brother looked extremely hungry. He picked up a dumpling, dipped it in some vinegar, and took a bite. As he chewed, he remarked, "Not bad! What kind of meat filling is this? It tastes really good."
The Old Village Chief's wife chuckled and replied, "Is that so? As long as it’s tasty! I cooked these dishes, but the dumplings weren’t made by me. When I got up this morning, I saw a large bowl of pre-made dumplings on our windowsill. They must have been sent over by a neighbor. As long as they taste good!"
In Tou Gou Zi Village, the neighbors had a good relationship with each other. They probably knew we were coming for lunch and sent over the dumplings.
As we spoke, we all grabbed a dumpling to taste, and indeed, it was delicious and tender. However, none of us could quite identify what kind of meat filling it was; it felt like we had never eaten dumplings with this kind of filling before.
My brother smiled and picked up another one. After taking a few bites, he suddenly felt something was off and immediately spat the dumpling out.
"What’s wrong?" The Old Village Chief's wife asked anxiously. "Is it not good?"
My brother shook his head while using his chopsticks to peel back the dumpling skin. "It's not that it's bad; it just seems like I bit into something strange. It feels a bit off."
As he spoke, he had already peeled back the dumpling skin.
We all leaned in to take a closer look, and upon seeing what was inside, everyone was stunned into silence.
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