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墨書 Inktalez
Although he had only seven fingers in total, Poplar drove with incredible speed. It seemed he was an experienced driver, weaving effortlessly through the traffic with impressive skill. At that moment, Zhao Mingkun took out his phone with his left hand and began sending a text message. Soon, several replies came in. Zhao Mingkun glanced at them, said nothing, but his expression visibly relaxed. It appeared that he had already arranged matters at the hospital while in the car.
Sure enough, just two streets away from where Zhao Mingkun was staying, a moderately sized hospital came into view. The building was of classical architecture, exuding an antique charm. As soon as the car stopped, a few people approached; one of them helped Zhao Mingkun into the hospital while another drove off in the car.
This vehicle was clearly no longer usable; it had been compromised. The best we could do now was to drive it to a place where no one would find it, to avoid being exposed because of this car. It seemed that Zhao Mingkun had been texting in the car to arrange these details.
We waited outside the operating room for Zhao Mingkun. The surgery shouldn’t be too complicated. Poplar naturally followed Zhao Mingkun's instructions closely, keeping a watchful eye on me. From Poplar's expression, I didn’t see any signs of sadness or distress.
After a moment of silence, I broke the ice and asked, “What will happen to Yang Yang’s body?”
“It can’t be brought back,” Poplar replied while running his hand over the bench. “He wasn’t like Jia Xinyuan; he died among our own people. Now, his body has surely been taken to the precinct. Haha, I wonder if they call it that in Italy too.”
I nodded and sighed, saying, “Aren’t you sad? After all, he was your teammate. I only spent a day with him, so while I feel awkward about it, I’m not particularly heartbroken. That’s the truth; I’m not lying to you. What about you? Aren’t you sad?”
Poplar shook his head and said, “It’s all fate; everyone has their own destiny. If my friend died, of course I would be sad. But he doesn’t count; he wasn’t a friend. You know, in our line of work, we can do anything but get emotional. Whoever gets emotional is finished; don’t say we’re heartless—this is a consensus.”
“Do you remember what Yang Yang always used to say?” Poplar mimicked Yang Yang’s words: “Life is hard; don’t be human in your next life. For Yang Yang, death isn’t something terrifying; on the contrary, it’s a release. Now that Yang Yang is free, we should be happy instead of sad.”
“When Jia Xinyuan died, apart from you, none of us felt anything,” Poplar continued. “This is something you and we are different about. Although I don’t understand why they brought you here, you’re not one of us. You won’t join us; I can guarantee that.”
“Is that so?” I shrugged.
Poplar extended his hands toward me and said, “I have a good eye for people; the only time I was wrong led to my hands being like this. So I dare not misjudge anyone again. Perhaps I could consider you a brother but would never dare to work alongside you. To get things done requires being like Zhao Mingkun—emotionless and ruthless, focused solely on profit. It’s much more straightforward than working with someone full of feelings.”
I frowned and couldn’t agree with what Three Fingers had said. I smiled and asked, “Is that how you evaluate your superior?”
“Haha.” Poplar laughed: “That’s my highest praise for her; that’s why I dare to follow her. But this move was truly a mistake by the organization. However, I’m not involved enough to reach that level anymore. Once you enter this organization, your life is no longer your own; yet I’ve never seen anyone escape.”
I pondered for a moment before slowly asking Poplar, “How did you all join the organization? It seems they trained you rigorously. Do you understand what’s going on with your superior Zhao Mingkun? I heard she was part of this organization from a very young age?”
Upon hearing my question, Poplar burst into laughter again and said, “Interesting, interesting. I know the organization appreciates you; I know Zhao Mingkun appreciates you too—now I finally understand! The organization is using you just as you are using it. You know how to manipulate others’ emotions and even use that to help yourself succeed. If you were a bad person, you'd definitely be one of the worst!”
“Do you think I'm a bad person?” I looked into Poplar's eyes and spoke deliberately.
Poplar smiled and said, "Then you have to ask yourself."
The people in this organization are not ordinary at all. Even the lowest-ranking member possesses strong cunning and capability. Naturally, I hope there aren't too many such individuals; otherwise, gathering information would become quite difficult and troublesome. After saying this, we found ourselves with no more topics to discuss and could only gaze up at the ceiling.
We continued to wait for Zhao Mingkun, and at that moment, a nurse wheeled a patient into the adjacent operating room. A man in his twenties followed, a typical Italian handsome guy. However, he couldn't go in any further once he reached the door. He paced back and forth, looking anxious as if something had happened to a relative.
He took out a cigarette and searched for a lighter but couldn't find one. At that moment, he spotted me and Poplar and asked, "Hey, brothers, I can't find my lighter. Do you have one? Can I borrow it?" I was about to get up when Poplar stopped me.
Poplar gave me a meaningful look and then pulled out a lighter, tossing it over. The man raised his cigarette with a smile and then stood aside to smoke quietly. It seemed that Zhao Mingkun trusted Poplar's abilities enough to let him keep an eye on me.
"Are we being a bit too jumpy?" I joked with Poplar.
Poplar chuckled back at me, saying, "Since we've been paid, we naturally have to do our job. Don't you think?"
Paid to do the job? It seemed Poplar was hinting at something deeper.
"It seems they even allow smoking here," I remarked.
Poplar shrugged. "It's a small place."
At that moment, the lights in the operating room went out, and Zhao Mingkun walked out on his own. The doctor didn't say anything; it looked like Zhao Mingkun had arranged everything. However, it appeared that the anesthetic in her arm hadn't worn off yet; she could only move her fingers slightly and wasn't able to make larger movements. Upon seeing us, Zhao Mingkun merely nodded and asked me, "I've seen the two letters on the corpse; so far we have four letters: g, u, a, n—perhaps g, u, n, a. What do you think?"
I pondered for a moment before replying, "From the condition of the bodies, they were stacked together; based on their order, it should be a, n. However, I've thought for quite some time and haven't found any English word that matches 'guan.' Is there one in Italian?"
Zhao Mingkun shook his head. "No."
"Then that's the problem," I said to Zhao Mingkun. "When we were in that room, we didn't see any drawn death lines, which means there shouldn't be another victim. But since this word doesn't fit together either, there's a contradiction here. So let's consider a few possibilities."
I raised one finger and said, "First, just because the Killer didn't draw death lines doesn't mean they won't kill again. If that's the case, it suggests that the next victim's method of death can't be indicated by death lines; therefore, they likely won't die on the ground."
"In the air?" Zhao Mingkun speculated upon hearing my words. "Or in water? If it's one of those places, then the Killer naturally wouldn't be able to draw lines."
It seemed Zhao Mingkun's reaction speed was quite quick; I nodded in agreement. "Exactly. The reason the Killer hasn't marked anything isn't because there are no victims left but because they can't mark them."
As I spoke, I extended my second finger and said, "This is one. Two: if there won't be another victim, it means we have enough letters, and we are simply mistaken in thinking we don't. There are a few possibilities: the letters could be scrambled and not in order, limiting us to one arrangement. Or perhaps it's not English or Italian, but another language."
Zhao Mingkun nodded and asked, "So what should we do next?"
I rubbed my temples and replied, "We need to find an expert in language letters to see what useful words can be formed from these four letters, including abbreviations. This is something beyond the three of us; haven't you already started cheating? I think continuing to cheat wouldn't be a problem, right?"
Zhao Mingkun shrugged and sent a few text messages to arrange everything. I continued, "Of course, if I were to guess, the letter issue should be a low probability, while the Killer continuing to murder is highly probable. Unfortunately, our search range has widened now. It's a pity that I didn't have enough time at the scene to examine the bodies; otherwise, I might have been able to deduce a timeline."
"Keep in touch with your people at the police station," I said while rubbing my temples. "Have them pull up all recent death cases, whether suicides or accidental deaths. Ask if any letters or tattoos were found on the victims."
Zhao Mingkun nodded and said, "I'll do that. Now, let's find another car."
With that, he led us outside the hospital. Indeed, she was a tough woman; just recently she had a bullet removed and now seemed full of life again. When we approached a young man who had just finished a cigarette and casually tossed it on the ground, Zhao Mingkun and Poplar ignored him while I chuckled and said, "Brother, even though this place is controlled by the Mafia, basic decency should still apply."
"Sorry, sorry," the Italian Handsome Guy replied. "I'll pick it up right now."
On my first trip out to sea, I encountered the renowned Bengal Aid Worker—young and impulsive—but too poor to really make a splash until the First Mate told me that a bag of instant noodles could get me through a night with a group of women...
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