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墨書 Inktalez
"Let's get this head down," I said to Dezi.
Dezi nodded, borrowed a dagger from me, and leaped into the air. With his left hand, he swiftly cut through the rope in the middle, while his right hand instinctively grabbed the severed section of the rope, firmly holding the head in his grasp. The few officers outside could hardly bear to look; someone even vomited.
One officer remarked, "The stench from this head is so severe, yet you all act as if nothing is wrong. I truly admire that!"
Upon closer inspection, considering the odor and the degree of blood coagulation, it seemed that the head had been hanging there for quite some time. There was also some strange mucus mixed with the blood, likely dripping down after the internal decay. Otherwise, the residents downstairs wouldn't have heard dripping sounds for several days.
After searching, we found nothing else. No fingerprints or footprints were left behind. It was clear that this head was a clue deliberately left by the Killer at the crime scene. Juan Juan was slowly moving the head, carefully observing its condition.
Furrowing his brow, Juan Juan said, "It's late autumn now, with room temperatures between five to ten degrees Celsius. Judging by the state of this head, it has probably been dead for five to seven days. Currently, we only have a head; we can't determine the cause of death or whether there was a fatal injury to the neck. We must find the entire body to know for sure. However, if it's like the second victim, we might not be able to ascertain how they died either."
Nodding in agreement, I instructed an officer to fetch a white cloth from a resident on the second floor to wrap up the head completely. Although one could still discern its shape through the bulging outline, it felt much less shocking than carrying around a severed head directly.
Wenlan's body was still at the mortuary awaiting examination by the Police Department, and now we had another head to send along. When we arrived at the mortuary, Police Department personnel had already begun examining Wenlan's body. According to their findings, Wenlan had died from Sodium Cyanide poisoning, which could be fatal within minutes.
There were no other external injuries on the body; it was confirmed that Wenlan had not been abused while alive. Furthermore, there was no sign of sexual assault or rape. This suggested that Wenlan had likely not endured much torment during those five days; from this perspective, it was uncertain whether it could be considered a small comfort for the deceased.
Mary sighed and then said, "Although I shouldn't think this way, knowing that Wenlan did not suffer before death and that they were left with a whole body afterward does bring some peace of mind and comfort. Unlike the others—one was eaten, another juiced, and one had their head severed."
With that said, Mary let out a heavy sigh.
Hearing Mary's words stirred an indescribable feeling within me. Compared to the other three victims, Wenlan indeed died without suffering; however, thinking this way felt like self-comforting—a way to balance my feelings about not having caught the Killer—and it left me feeling conflicted.
After examining the severed head further revealed that it had been dead for seven days. An anticoagulant was found in its blood that significantly delayed coagulation time. This explained why residents downstairs had heard dripping sounds on their floor for such an extended period. Additionally, with pus leaking out due to decomposition, it likely dripped for about five days. This meant that this victim had died before Wenlan.
The Killer clearly did not kill people in order but rather scrambled their sequence. From this point of view, it seemed that the Killer must have gathered all intended victims in one place. We needed to focus on this aspect to rescue these hostages before the Killer struck again. With this thought in mind, I called my department and requested additional personnel to search for missing persons throughout North City while comparing their backgrounds.
Those with simple social connections or none at all were likely targets for the Killer. If we could locate these individuals based on clues, we could conduct thorough investigations. The Killer would only kill one person at a time rather than eliminate them all at once. Thus, if we acted quickly enough, we could save more lives before any further killings occurred.
The Vice Minister stated they would send more personnel to North City specifically for this task. At that moment, a small weight lifted off my chest. There were so many things to think about lately; however, I could finally set this matter aside for now. Once additional personnel arrived in North City, they would take over investigations from the North City Public Security Bureau and alleviate some of their pressure.
I immediately sent a photo of a decaying head to Captain. Then, I called him right away. Captain said, "I just saw that photo of the head and was about to ask you what happened when you called. Alright, now I can ask—what's going on?"
I replied, "Although the inside of this head is already decayed, its exterior is still somewhat recognizable. This is the fourth victim. We need to search for any clues about this person throughout the city. We must identify him so we can successfully find the fifth person..."
Captain fell silent for a long moment before saying, "The North City Police Department is already short-staffed. One team is investigating leads on the Black BMW, another is busy dealing with the aftermath of the recent victims, and now we need to pull another team to search for clues about this head. Sigh, we just don’t have enough people here, and everyone has been working without rest for a long time."
Hearing Captain's complaints left me feeling helpless. The Killer had planned these murders over a month ago, or even longer, perhaps already mapping out the movements and timing for those with simple social connections. We were expected to combat a meticulously planned serial murder case in just a few days—there was no time for rest.
"I just contacted the department; they’ve agreed to send more personnel," I told Captain. "It won't be long before they arrive. By then, the officers from the Police Department will finally get some proper rest. But until then, everyone will have to endure a bit longer..."
"Yes, we..."
Before Captain could finish his sentence, another call came through on my phone. I looked at the screen; it displayed a long string of numbers. If nothing unexpected happened, this was likely the informant calling us again. Last time, it was his tip that led us to find the missing Wenlan.
Unfortunately, by the time we found Wenlan, she was already hanging by a thread. I wondered what this self-proclaimed victim of coercion would tell us this time and whether this lead would help us find the missing person and ultimately track down the Killer. With that thought in mind, I made a fist gesture and switched my phone to speaker mode.
Mary quickly opened her computer and connected it to my phone.
The mysterious caller spoke in an urgent yet low voice, "What are you doing? I'm risking everything to give you information, but you still haven't caught the Killer. Do you know what he looks like? He said when he went downstairs, he saw you coming around from behind!"
"He said his heart was about to jump out!" The voice continued. "But you didn’t even notice him; he just drove away. Now he's going to kill again! What are you doing? I heard you're from the Special Investigation Team?"
"Is this really what the Special Investigation Team is like? My life may not matter much to you, but my family's does. I don't want more people to die, but I especially don't want my family to die. If you're really this incompetent, I won’t bother calling again; I hope you can send someone else."
As the caller's tone grew increasingly frantic, his voice became hoarse and difficult to understand, filled with anger. Hearing such direct insults and belittlement left me feeling embarrassed and helpless. Yet at the same time, I recognized he was right—we had indeed let the Killer slip away.
Everyone felt awkward and didn't know what to say; they simply focused on their work.
I cleared my throat and slowly said, "That time was indeed our oversight. But it was just one mistake; there won't be another chance. The Killer has returned? You just said he's going to kill again? Do you know where he's headed?"
After a brief silence, he seemed to regain his composure and quickly said, "I really don't know this time. Last time, we were together in a small workshop. He separated the fat, muscle, and bones of the deceased there. This time, he acted alone. I don't know where he went or who he intends to kill."
"This phone is one I've secretly hidden; I can't talk for too long," the person on the other end continued. "However, if I find any clues, I'll keep calling you."
Hearing his tone, it seemed he was about to hang up. I hurriedly asked, "Do you know where you are being held? Is there any sign?"
"I don't know. My family and I are being held in separate places," he replied. "Every time we go out, he puts me in a sack and blindfolds me. But I feel that I'm not the only one being coerced here. Really, I can't say more. It's too dangerous; he understands high technology and might have some surveillance equipment."
"One last question!" I quickly said. "Do you know me?"
There was another brief silence before he responded, "Although I don't want to admit it, I do know you. The reason Killer captured me also has something to do with this. But it's precisely because I trust you that when he mentioned some powerful officer, I spoke your name."
"I really can't say anything more," he insisted. "I can't tell you who I am unless you completely capture Killer. Please forgive me; I'm a selfish person, and I want to protect my family. I hope you understand. Goodbye. If I'm not discovered, I'll continue to contact you."
With that, he hung up the phone.
Senior High School Student was kidnapped along with Leggy School Beauty and Busty Third-Tier Celebrity, trapped in an Abandoned Cabin, mistakenly ate Unknown Wild Fruit, and felt feverish in the middle of the night.
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