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墨書 Inktalez
I urged everyone to calm down. The appearance of such a pattern should not be a clue meant to confuse us, as we currently have no leads at all. The Killer's actions seem redundant, and given the audacity of the Killer, he would only leave us clues that we could follow.
"We spent so much time piecing this together," I said, looking at the puzzle. "Previously, he left behind notes made from Human Skin Map, but this time he hasn’t left anything. Therefore, this must serve a similar purpose as the Human Skin Map notes. Analyzing this pattern, we can draw a few conclusions!"
I continued, "First, the Killer wants to inform us about the next victim. This is the second victim; the first victim was Sun Shouwang, who was cannibalized. We have yet to identify the second victim, which might be what he is trying to tell us. Second, the Killer aims to reveal his next method of killing, but based on current evidence, that seems unlikely."
Dezi agreed with my analysis and added, "Looking at the finished product, the pattern is clear; it could be a photograph. If that's the case, then the Killer must have taken a picture. This person might still be locked up by the Killer."
"If that's true, we need to speed up our efforts," Captain nodded but then shook his head and said, "But how can we find this person based on just a butt? That’s harder than finding a needle in a haystack! At least we know what the needle looks like; how can we know what a victim's butt looks like?"
Captain's comment was unintentionally amusing at first glance, but upon reflection, it posed a real challenge. We could track people through footprints, fingerprints, or DNA, but I had never heard of finding someone based on their butt. However, the details on the pattern were remarkably clear; if such details were crafted so precisely, it suggested that Captain might have a point.
Thinking about this made my head ache. I turned to Captain and said, "Given the current situation, you might be right. However, the workload is immense. We can't just walk around showing people pictures of butts and asking if they've seen them!"
Captain chuckled awkwardly. I continued, "But this work still needs to be done—one team will compare and investigate online while another team conducts undercover visits. For now, we have no choice but to treat this dead horse as if it were alive. Any objections?"
Captain shook his head and replied, "This is indeed a daunting task. I've been a detective for seven or eight years now and this is my first time chasing down a butt. But don’t worry; while I can't guarantee results with such a task, we'll do our best. By the way, if we're handling this mission, what will your Special Investigation Team be doing?"
"Speaking of which," I raised a finger and said, "everyone seems to have overlooked an important clue. We still have one lead that should lead us to something useful."
"What is it?" Everyone looked at me in confusion.
I explained, "We found nothing in that workshop except for a bucket of liquid containing internal organs and other materials. The Killer deliberately extracted these things into juice and placed them in that bucket. This is our only discovery; I believe the Killer did this on purpose."
I continued, "At that time, I carefully observed the room; aside from machinery, there was nothing else—no small stools for resting or tables or even water dispensers. How could workers endure such an environment? They must need at least some water!"
Mary drew circles on her forehead with her finger and said, "Now that you mention it, it does seem odd. Could it be that this place is a black-hearted workshop? Just looking at the building shows it's been illegally modified..."
I shook my head and replied, "That's unlikely; no matter how unscrupulous this Boss may be, they would still need something as cheap as water. The absence of everything suggests that the Killer intentionally took everything away to ensure we noticed that bucket first."
Juan Juan interjected, "That makes sense; however, nothing was found outside the bucket. It was just an ordinary bucket that once held some renovation materials." Suddenly realizing something, Juan Juan added, "If it was indeed a renovation bucket, there should have been branding or company names on it—but it seems like those have been removed..."
I said, "That's right. The reason Killer is doing this is to distract us from what's outside and focus on what's in this bucket. Juan Juan, pour out everything inside; we need to see what's in there..."
We arrived at the laboratory and looked at the bucket of slime, which was quite hard to look at. Juan Juan poured out the slime, but a lot of it still clung stubbornly to the inside walls of the bucket. Dezi took the lead, using a brush to scrub and water to rinse, and after much effort, managed to clean it out.
Looking inside, we found just four large characters—Zero Degree Renovation.
We exchanged glances, and Dezi said, "Zero Degree Renovation?"
At that moment, Mary quickly opened her computer and said, "Zero Degree Renovation is a small renovation company in North City. It's not very big, only has a few dozen employees. Moreover, it’s the only one; there are no branches. Should we go check it out?"
"Yes," I nodded and replied, "Let's see if we can find anything."
Upon arriving at Zero Degree Renovation, we discovered that it was indeed just a small company—not even a proper company but rather a makeshift renovation team. They had set up a small two-story office; the first floor was for business discussions while the second floor served as a storage area. Behind the office was a small yard where the workers lived.
When they realized we weren't there to negotiate business, the manager's expression immediately soured. After I "threatened" to conduct a thorough inspection of his company, his demeanor did a complete 180, claiming he would even answer questions about how many hairs were on his wife's backside.
I said seriously, "I'm here to ask if any of your workers have gone missing recently."
"Missing?" the manager replied. "No one is missing. We don't have many Renovation Workers; I can count them all at a glance. If someone quits, it's obvious. There’s definitely no one missing. Is it possible that one of our Renovation Workers got into trouble? I assure you that none of our Renovation Workers, despite their low education levels, have ever committed any crimes; I can guarantee that with my integrity."
Though he said this, his slick demeanor made it hard to believe him. After taking a general look around both floors and finding nothing suspicious, we headed to the small yard behind the office. Coincidentally, none of the Renovation Workers had jobs today and were gathered in the yard.
Some were playing cards, others smoking or watching TV; it was quite lively.
When they saw us enter, they merely glanced over without much reaction. The manager clapped his hands and said, "Listen up, everyone! This isn't playtime right now. These officers are here to investigate something. We're not criminals; just answer whatever they ask you."
"Of course," he added. "Some things don’t need to be discussed—like our materials; those are commercial secrets. Officer, you don’t need to worry about our renovation materials; they're all legitimate."
Only then did everyone gather around. I asked, "I can't disclose too many details about the case, but I can tell you it's a real murder case. During our investigation, we found some clues that led us here to Zero Degree Renovation. Has anyone among you gone missing or taken leave without returning?"
The Renovation Workers varied in age; some appeared to be over forty while others were barely in their teens. Upon hearing my words, they began whispering among themselves until an elder who seemed like a Master spoke up: "Officer, our renovation team has twenty-three members; as you can see, everyone is here—no one is missing or on leave. Are you sure your investigation hasn't overlooked something?"
I did not answer his question but continued, "If there are no missing persons among your renovation team, or in this yard, is there a possibility of a woman being unaccounted for?" I tentatively voiced the latter part.
At that moment, one of the eighteen-year-old boys changed his expression and immediately spoke up, "There is one. Sister Wenlan hasn't come back for quite a while..."
As soon as he said this, everyone shot him looks of disapproval, as if blaming him for mentioning such a thing. The young man seemed to realize he had said something he shouldn't have and quickly shut his mouth. But could the words already spoken just be ignored?
I slowly scanned the crowd and then said, "I don't think you all understand what I'm doing here. I am investigating a murder case. Anyone who obstructs our investigation will be arrested for interfering with official duties. There are twenty-three of you here? I refuse to believe that not a single one of you will speak up." I turned to Dezi, "Call the Police Department!"
I exaggerated the impact on purpose to see how long they could hold out under pressure. Sure enough, someone finally spoke up, "Sister Wenlan hasn't been around for some time. It's unusual, but we can't really speculate."
"Yeah, some things are hard to say," another person added.
Suddenly, everyone began talking at once, some saying this and others saying that.
"You should speak," I said to the older master.
A Senior High School Student was kidnapped along with a Leggy School Beauty and a Busty Third-Tier Celebrity trapped in an Abandoned Cabin after mistakenly eating Unknown Wild Fruit, feeling feverish in the middle of the night.
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