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墨書 Inktalez
An addict will indeed do anything for money. Among the files I have encountered, there are many such cases. One man, in the throes of addiction, went insane and brutally killed his wife and daughter in the street. Another addict bit his elderly mother to death when she tried to stop him from taking money from their home.
If Qiang was truly desperate and went to Lanjing City to ask Zhao Kaifang for money only to be turned away, leading him to commit murder, that is certainly a possibility. Previously, Lü Weiguo mentioned that during high school, Zhao Kaifang often gave them some money. Analyzing this, it seems Qiang had a motive.
The next morning.
As we gathered in the conference room to discuss our next steps in searching for Qiang, Director Wang walked in with a grave expression. The moment I saw his face, I knew something was wrong. The others also looked at Director Wang, waiting for him to speak.
"I just received a report from the Narcotics Team; this hideout has been raided," Director Wang said.
It seemed the local narcotics police were quick on their feet, but this was an uplifting piece of news—so why did Director Wang look so troubled? This likely meant the news was related to our Special Investigation Team. I said, "Director Wang, it seems this news is specifically for us."
Director Wang nodded and replied, "Captain Shao, you are indeed perceptive; you figured it out immediately. While I was speaking with you, they had already decided to take action; I just wasn’t informed yet, which is why I mentioned the morning meeting. But shortly after that, I received news of their operation."
Pausing for a moment, Director Wang continued, "They raided the hideout and captured those involved in production and transportation—truly a significant victory. However, during this operation, someone mentioned Qiang's whereabouts. They intended to arrest Qiang as well and hand him over to you after questioning him about drug use, but an unexpected situation occurred."
"What situation?" Mary couldn't help but ask.
"Qiang is dead," Director Wang said helplessly as he looked at us.
"Qiang is dead?" Juan Juan asked. "How did he die?"
Director Wang waved his hand dismissively and said, "I don’t have the specifics yet; they have secured the scene and are now waiting for our Police Department's detectives to take over. This case is complex for your Special Investigation Team, so I came to inform you first. The personnel from the Police Department will follow your lead; if you have no objections, then proceed."
"Xiao Zhang will provide you with more details," Director Wang added.
We nodded in disbelief at Qiang's death; it felt suspicious that he died at this time. Could his death be related to Zhao Kaifang's? We needed to get to the scene as soon as possible. We met up with the personnel from the Police Department; Captain Zhang had already coordinated with them and was just waiting for us to arrive.
Upon reaching the vicinity of the crime scene and conducting a brief handover with the Narcotics Team, we took charge here. The captain of the Narcotics Team was named Lin Xu; he told us, "From our investigation so far, Qiang was not killed by anyone from this hideout. In fact, when you arrived yesterday, our team had already spotted you secretly. However, we chose not to act so as not to alert anyone. Aside from Qiang who fled, everyone else was under our surveillance; thus, the killer of Qiang is not someone from this hideout. As for who it is, we currently have no leads."
Lin Xu pointed inside and said, "Qiang's body was found inside there. According to people from the hideout, this is considered one of Qiang's other small rooms where he would hide when avoiding debts. It seems like a method typical of loan sharks; however, since you are the detectives here, I won’t speculate further—this area is now under your jurisdiction."
I nodded and replied to Lin Xu, "Alright, don’t worry; you've worked hard too. You can go back and rest for now; we can handle the questioning tomorrow."
"By the way," Lin Xu said, as if recalling something important. "Don't blame me for not warning you; the state of the body is quite interesting. I'm leaving now."
After bidding farewell to Lin Xu, we made our way to the scene. From the surroundings, this hardly resembled a house; it was more like a large container that had been converted into a dwelling. The exterior was rusted and appeared to have been left here for many years, likely abandoned by some company.
We opened the half-door that was nearly falling off its hinges, and with the early morning sunlight streaming in, we peered inside the container. Indeed, there was a person inside—no, it should be said there was a corpse. The body was positioned as if kneeling but did not appear to have collapsed, almost as if it were still alive.
Inside the container, the lighting was poor, so we could only make out vague shapes on the body. I turned to the police officers and said, "Take apart one side of the container; it's hard to see what traces are inside."
They nodded in agreement. The container was rusty and not tightly sealed, so dismantling it wasn't too difficult. In no time at all, one side of the container wall had been removed. At last, we could clearly see the crime scene, and everyone gasped at what lay before us.
No wonder Lin Xu had warned me earlier; this corpse had clearly suffered greatly in life.
The body was pierced all over with iron skewers. These skewers were not like those used for shish kebabs; they were thicker and smoother, resembling oversized silver needles. The mouth of the corpse was tightly sealed with layers of tape, leaving only the nostrils exposed—clearly intended to prevent any sounds from escaping.
Its shoes were tossed aside, and both hands and feet were impaled with two iron skewers each. The skewers penetrated deeply into the ground, piercing through the container itself. There were numerous skewers embedded in its legs and arms as well; some stood upright while others rested on the ground.
There were also a few skewers embedded in other parts of its body, but not many. This indicated that whoever did this did not want it to die too quickly; otherwise, they would have concentrated their efforts elsewhere. One skewer pierced through its jaw from side to side, creating a horrifying sight.
It was precisely because of all these iron rods supporting it that the corpse maintained this half-kneeling position without falling over—like a grotesque sculpture. Blood flowed from where the skewers penetrated, pooling on the ground into a congealed puddle. While it couldn't be described as a river of blood, it certainly resembled a small stream.
Juan Juan examined the body and opened a large box before saying, "Preliminary estimates suggest death by excessive bleeding. Judging by where the skewers are placed, it seems like a veteran did this—the placement is quite precise. The victim wouldn’t die too quickly but would experience immense suffering! This isn’t just murder; it’s torture!"
Even without Juan Juan's professional analysis, we could reach the same conclusion. Qiang had been turned into a pincushion; such brutality could only stem from deep-seated hatred or revenge. Dezi leaned over to me and said, "I just counted—there are 128 skewers in total."
One hundred twenty-eight—did this number hold any significance? Was it an unconscious act by the killer or intentional?
At that moment, Juan Juan remarked, "From what I can tell at the scene, Qiang must have been trapped inside this container while being killed by the killer. There are no signs of struggle inside; that's quite strange. Imagine someone being treated like this—under such circumstances, even the most cowardly person would instinctively fight back for their life."
"But he didn’t," I observed as I surveyed the scene. It made sense; given how dilapidated the container was, breaking through one side during a struggle seemed highly probable. Yet there was no damage to any part of the wall, indicating he likely hadn’t fought back at all.
"And therein lies the problem," Juan Juan continued. "Why didn’t he resist?"
I rubbed my temples and said, "The reasons for not resisting boil down to a few points. First, he was controlled by multiple people; considering the size of this container, there could be at most three. Second, the assailants were acquaintances; he knew they wouldn't kill him, and resisting would only lead to a worse fate. Third, he was already unconscious before being stabbed like a porcupine. Which of these do you think is the most likely?"
Juan Juan closed the box and replied, "Given the current situation, I think the first point is the most probable. However, we won't be able to draw any conclusions until a detailed autopsy is conducted. Let's send Qiang's body to the morgue for now."
Due to the peculiar nature of the body, moving it onto the vehicle was quite challenging and securing it was difficult as well.
I walked around the scene, hoping to find some useful clues, but whether beside the container or inside it, nothing of value turned up. This corroborated what Juan Juan had just said: the assailant must be a Veteran.
Lockard's principle of material exchange tells us that the longer a Killer stays at a crime scene and interacts with it, the more clues they will leave behind. However, in this case, that principle did not apply, indicating that the Killer had deliberately erased their traces.
If that's the case, then we are either dealing with a psychopathic serial killer or someone with a deep-seated grudge against Qiang. With this thought in mind, I said to Mary, "Later, let's check Qiang's detailed information. Since the perpetrator managed to find Qiang's secret hideout, it suggests they are familiar with his movements. From this perspective, the Killer should know Qiang; they likely aren't a stranger."
"Moreover, since Qiang is an Addict, his relationships must be quite complicated," I continued. "Perhaps we can ask Captain Lin Xu if he has any leads."
"Understood," Mary nodded.
An unsolved mystery: a 21st-century Airborne Troops unit mysteriously appeared in North America, rescuing an Indian Red-Haired Beauty, enjoying encounters with Blue-Eyed Busty Blondes, dominating Wall Street, amassing wealth across America, and initiating a Han Ethnic Colonial Global Model.
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