The morning briefing the next day ended, and Zhang Jiewei called me into the small office—the one reserved for team leaders. It used to be me calling him in; now, it was the other way around. “I know you’re in a bad mood right now, but we are police officers.

We have a mission we must complete…” The moment the door shut, Zhang Jiewei launched into a lecture, which made my head spin. I desperately wanted to bolt for the door. I remained silent, letting him talk, while my own plans churned quietly inside.

Finally, he was so dry-mouthed he could barely speak, grabbing the teacup from the desk and draining it in a few long gulps. I seized the moment to cut in: “I know everything you’re saying, but it’s work time now. I wanted to ask your advice on something work-related.” Zhang Jiewei was truly a passionate cop; the mention of work instantly revitalized him.

He set down his cup and asked enthusiastically, “What is it? Spit it out!” Seeing how he’d completely forgotten the recent unpleasantness, I felt a pang of guilt. How could I betray such an outstanding colleague?

“It’s like this. Yesterday, I went to International West Garden. I noticed their security is incredibly tight; any slight misstep and we’ll be detected.

So, I plan to go in disguise. Do you have any brilliant ideas?” Zhang Jiewei frowned in thought for a moment, then said, “That’s easy. The more high-end the complex, the more they need people for maintenance.

Disguise yourself as a maintenance worker; that won’t raise any suspicion.” He then pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them over. “I have spares of these things lying around; take them and use them as needed.” The keys were for the precinct’s standard lockers, each marked with a number. I quickly found his.

When I opened it, I gasped—good heavens! It was a treasure trove, filled with everything imaginable: costumes for construction workers, plumbers, repairmen, and so on, complete with both attire and tools. It seemed this guy was unusually dedicated.

I could almost picture him wandering around in these outfits in his downtime, aiming for complete immersion. “Handsome, you’ve got a call! Handsome, you’ve got a call!” I answered the phone, and Zhang Jiewei’s voice came through: “Fifty meters east of the precinct exit, there’s a motorcycle repair shop.

Tell them you’re picking up Motorcycle Number Seven; they’ll know what to do.” Motorcycle—the kind repairmen use when working jobs around town. It seemed the man truly had everything covered; nothing was overlooked. I chose a plumber’s outfit and changed, then headed to the repair shop.

I told the owner I was there for Motorcycle Number Seven. The owner seemed to have already received Zhang Jiewei’s call and pointed toward the back: “It’s the one farthest inside; go grab it yourself.” I followed his direction and nearly screamed out loud: “My God, is that a motorcycle?” A dilapidated frame with two wheels lay there like a skeleton, its power lines exposed. The sight was utterly wretched.

If I had to ride that thing down the street normally, I’d rather just throw myself into traffic and let a car run me over. After a fierce internal debate, I finally mounted it. The reason was simple: I wasn't who I originally was; I was the disguised version.

Therefore, the shame wouldn't be mine, but the fake 'me’s.' I truly marveled at how this "pervert"—this odd character—could devise such a perverse rationale. The ‘skeleton’ sputtered amidst a piercing noise, sounding like firecrackers popping, before roaring off with an air of utter disdain, leaving the street onlookers stunned. Now, I was riding a broken-down motorcycle, wearing a stained helmet, clad in a drab gray jacket, with a toolbox strapped to the metal rack behind me.

I looked exactly like someone who fixes refrigerators or air conditioners for a living. The bike emitted strange noises, and the black smoke pouring from the rear was enough to get me pulled over by traffic police for a lecture. I genuinely didn’t know where Zhang Jiewei had found this junk; even pulling one from a junkyard would surely be an improvement.

However, I wasn't heading for International West Garden. I was going to Sanhe; I needed to find Lin Xin. Although the skeleton bike was deafeningly loud, it didn't give me any trouble on the road.

After about half an hour of tearing along, Sanhe was in sight. I stopped the skeleton bike next to a small convenience store, bought a bottle of water, and took a couple of sips. The owner was a middle-aged man in his forties, looking somewhat like a laid-off worker from the supply and marketing system.

So, I casually asked, “Brother, is there a guy around here named Menya? How would I find him?” The middle-aged man scrutinized me, his gaze shifting with an unreadable expression. I kept up a casual demeanor, took a few more sips, and stopped pressing, sitting down on a stool outside the shop, watching the empty street.

Sanhe still retained the look of thirty years ago; the streets and buildings looked aged. Xiao Xuan could very well be locked in some unknown room here. I wondered if she was being tortured?

Thinking of this, my eyes began to drift over the buildings before me, each open door and window looking like some unknown creature staring back at me. Xiao Xuan had been missing for days now, well past the supposed 'safe period' for hostages described in textbooks. Her situation was dire, and this uncertainty felt like needles stabbing my heart.

Every drop of blood, mixed with the mineral water I just drank, coursed through my stomach and intestines, causing an intense physical discomfort throughout my body. Thankfully, I was wearing a grimy helmet that obscured half my face, hiding my expression. I was like a snail retreated into its shell, silently nursing my fear, experiencing the dread brought on by unknown danger.

Just then, the store owner spoke up: “Why are you looking for him?” A surge of hope hit me; people who ask questions like that usually know something. After all, I’d been a cop for years. I immediately followed up: “Just bored, really.

I often hear people mention him, so I thought I’d ask. I heard this Menya fellow is tough, can fight ten guys alone—is that true?” As I spoke, I looked around casually, never settling my gaze on him. The middle-aged man cracked a smile, revealing two yellowed front teeth, stained from years of smoking, and habitually clicked his tongue.

“When it comes to fighting, Menya is indeed skilled. But I heard he got taken down before the New Year by someone named Dongzi. Haven’t seen him around for a long time.” Dongzi?

I recalled. He was a local tough in Anyang City, but his family was quite wealthy; both parents were in legitimate businesses. I’d heard they wanted him to take over the family enterprise, but he refused, left home, and traveled around, eventually learning formidable martial arts.

He had been thriving in Anyang for years. However, because his family had money, Dongzi never got involved in high-risk, life-threatening rackets. Plus, his parents knew many influential people, so Dongzi had an easy ride in Anyang these past few years.

But the idea that Dongzi took down Menya didn't sit right with me. Outsiders might not know, but as a cop, I knew more than the average person, especially about these matters. Menya was one of Li Shun’s men, and Li Shun’s influence was vast; compared to him, Dongzi and his parents were a distant second.

Dongzi couldn't have gained the upper hand, and Menya certainly wouldn't be suppressed to the point of hiding. This convenience store owner was lying! Either he was talking nonsense, or he was covering for Menya.

Given that he was a native of Sanhe, the chance of him simply spouting nonsense was slim. So, why would he protect Menya? I quietly surveyed the store—a row of single-story buildings divided into about a dozen small units, each around twenty square meters, all rented out for business.

Behind this row was an older apartment building, clearly a former work unit dormitory. This row of shops seemed to be an annex to the dorm, and the landlord was probably someone from that building. At that moment, a light breeze blew in, carrying the faint scent of trees—the plane trees lining the street.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached my ears, intermittent, just barely discernible as a woman’s voice. It was too distant, or perhaps too obstructed, to hear clearly. The middle-aged man’s expression shifted.

He began shifting uncomfortably on the stool, as if thorns were piercing his flesh, causing him pain. At that moment, I felt a strange sense of schadenfreude. Watching his distress brought me immense satisfaction, and I secretly wished him more pain for deceiving me.

If this were any other situation, I would have flashed my badge immediately. But now, I couldn't reveal my identity, which was deeply frustrating. However, I could investigate potential hazards as a concerned citizen.

Just as someone smelling a strong stench in a hallway has the right to knock on doors to find the source, that is a basic human right. I was now that person smelling the strong odor. I needed to knock on this seemingly peaceful door of the convenience store to see what lay behind it.

I stood up and took a step toward the shop. The middle-aged man’s face visibly panicked, showing an expression of guilt attempting to hide itself. I gave a cold smile and advanced another slow step, letting his panic turn into outright alarm, savoring the delicious tension.

Like a wolf drinking blood, tasting the struggle of its prey—it was an intensely gratifying feeling. “When did I become a wolf?” A sudden terror gripped me, mingled with a profound sense of helplessness. The middle-aged man seemed to sense my shift, and he settled back onto the stool, his two large yellow teeth staring at me like a pair of eyes.

My heart leaped. Those two prominent teeth were too striking, like two yellow bolts of lightning piercing my vision, causing a burning sensation in my eyes. He is Menya!

Then who was the panicked woman’s voice I’d heard earlier? All the blood rushed to my head, making my eyes bloodshot. I must look exactly like a wolf now, only lacking the four paws.

The yellowed incisors were hidden behind thick lips, gleaming like luminous beast eyes. Trembling, I asked, “You are Menya?” The middle-aged man’s mouth suddenly split open, revealing a deep, dark throat cavity, and a voice burst forth: “Nonsense! Get lost!” As the words left his mouth, his demeanor turned menacing, radiating an aura unique to the most vicious criminals.

At this point, I was completely certain he was Menya. But before leaving the precinct, I had left my firearm behind. And identification papers would be useless against a brute like Menya.

What now? My steps faltered involuntarily, and Menya stood up. Only then did I realize he towered over me by a full head and a half.

His thick forearm was nearly as large as my calf. In front of him, I felt like a small chick, easily lifted by one hand. This area was secluded; hardly anyone was around.

If he could take me down in under five minutes, I would have no chance of escape—though I estimated he’d need no more than thirty seconds. I retreated to the long wooden bench where I had been sitting and dropped onto it, gripping the edge tightly. If this guy came at me, I wouldn't hesitate to smash the bench into him.

Menya stood up and stretched, his torso visible above the counter resembling a bear, projecting an imposing, overwhelming aura. My grip on the bench left my palm slightly sweaty, but Menya sat back down. Calm returned to the counter area, with only his massive head and two gleaming yellow teeth visible.

The tension in my chest finally eased, but I wasn't planning to leave yet. Xiao Xuan might be here. There might be a sinister hidden door inside the shop; opening it could lead to her rescue!

My hands trembled slightly, my heart pounding furiously. The mere thought of Xiao Xuan being so close gave me an uncontrollable jolt—a tremor of the soul that was hard to resist. But that bear-like body blocked the way; he could tear apart my flesh and my soul together.

The frustrating thing was that I still couldn't reveal my identity. I couldn't afford a single mistake. If Xiao Xuan wasn't here, and Liu Shun found out I hadn't dropped the investigation, the consequences would be unbearable.

Yet, if I didn't show my badge, how could I get past that bear of an obstacle? I sat outside the shop while Menya hid behind the counter. We remained in a silent, tense standoff, time ticking by second by second.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. “Young man, you look unwell. Is something wrong?

There’s a clinic just around the corner; you should go check it out.” A woman’s voice broke the terrifying stalemate, and my tension eased with her words. A large drop of sweat rolled down my cheek, landing warm and damp on my hand. As she spoke, the woman walked into the convenience store and said to Menya, “Old Huang, you go on home now.” Menya stood up, glanced at me, and passed by like a gust of wind, making my heart pound with fear that he might suddenly turn and swing.

Thankfully, my worry was unfounded; he didn’t, and quickly disappeared around the street corner. I looked curiously at the middle-aged woman. She seemed to be in her forties, her skin well-maintained, fair, and smooth, though showing a natural slackness.

Her clothes were simple but didn't look dated. Her features suggested she was beautiful in her youth, still possessing charm even past her prime. Strangest of all, her expression bore a slight resemblance to that of the bear-like man from before.

Could this be the legendary spousal resemblance? So, was the convenience store owner just now Menya? My mind was a jumble; I couldn’t discern truth from falsehood.

The middle-aged woman suddenly smiled at me: “Are you feeling better? You should still go get checked. Young people need to take care of their health; don’t let money consume everything.” Although she shared a certain aura with the bear-like man, her voice felt as refreshing as a spring breeze.

I stood up, ready to leave, when a slight breeze carried that faint sound again—the intermittent, sorrowful female voice, as if pleading with me that if I left now, I would regret it for the rest of my life.