I sat in the back of the taxi, staring at the dark silhouette of the driver's head in front of me, and suddenly found myself missing the garrulous cabbie from before. If he were driving now, he would surely have regaled me with all sorts of scandalous gossip to chase away the nagging knots of worry tightening inside me.

"Two hours probably won't be enough, look at the traffic ahead," the driver's nasal voice was thick and grating, making me distinctly uncomfortable.

"Sir, I really need to hurry; I have an urgent matter. Even a minute late is unacceptable," I pressed. "I can pay extra."

The driver's head remained as still as a stone carving. A muffled sound came through: "How much extra?"

Damn it, he wasn't a mute after all; the moment money was mentioned, he moved faster than a monkey.

"Fifty."

"One hundred."

"Fine, a hundred it is, but I absolutely must be there fifteen minutes early," I ground out through clenched teeth.

The words had barely left my mouth when the driver abruptly yanked the steering wheel and plunged the cab into a narrow lane barely wide enough for two cars. He then proceeded to weave left and right like a stunt driver, threading the needle through the tight gaps with impossible precision.

I was momentarily stunned. The taxi flowed unimpeded, navigating the city's web of streets, which resembled fine silk threads, as if driving through an empty void. Every fleeting street scene blurred past in a dizzying rush.

The driver's head remained fixed, unmoving, but his consummate skill had completely won me over. Good heavens, this technique was good enough for Formula One racing. If he were a police officer, I’m sure no criminal driver could ever escape him. It seems there are true masters hidden away in the taxi industry.

In less than half an hour, the taxi had left the urban center, and the speed immediately escalated, launching us forward like a fired cannonball.

Watching the rapidly receding streaks of light outside the window, I thought that perhaps I should take more taxis in the future, get to know a few more such masters; perhaps they would prove useful someday. I used to think taxi drivers were a disadvantaged group because every time I dealt with a case involving them, I only ever saw their bloodied corpses. But now I finally understood: the ones who survive are the elite!

The sky outside was growing darker, the clouds pressing low, as if about to descend and crush everything below, seemingly portending something ominous.

No, no, I kept whispering to myself, trying to reassure myself: Clouds have nothing to do with earthly matters. They are up in the sky; how can they be connected to things happening down here? That’s just superstition at work.

But the clouds couldn't hear my thoughts; they continued to press down relentlessly. If the distant mountains weren't holding them up, I genuinely suspected they would have already fallen.

Just as a knot of fear tightened in my chest, the car suddenly screeched to a halt, nearly sending my head crashing into the back of the front seat.

Shi Liu Bay had arrived!

Ahead lay a mass of shadows, large and small, looking particularly grim against the backdrop of the faintly glowing night sky. I was about to turn back and ask the driver to wait for me when I heard a roar, and the car was already speeding away.

Suddenly, I was utterly alone in this desolate, eerie wilderness. A cold, creeping gust of wind silently enveloped me, leaving my limbs feeling somewhat numb and chilled.

I cracked a smile, thinking to myself: I'm a criminal investigator; how could I be bothered by such phantom nonsense? It’s laughable!

"Is anyone there?"

I shouted into the pitch-black surroundings, but there was no response, not even an echo, as if my voice had been swallowed by some object lurking in the darkness.

I started walking forward. Fortunately, I had brought a flashlight, so I could see clearly underfoot. However, the beam of the flashlight only seemed to make the surroundings even darker, creating an immense pressure. The small, pathetic circle of light I held was the epicenter of this intense force, making me feel like I could be crushed instantly if I wasn't careful.

I touched the back end of the flashlight, pressing a tiny button, which brought a small measure of calm. This was a police-issue stun baton—one end served as a light, and the other could discharge a high-voltage current capable of knocking someone out instantly. In Shi Liu Bay, a place notorious for dumping murder victims, having such a device definitely settled my nerves. At least I wouldn't fear people.

But what if it wasn't a person, but something else?

I quickly suppressed that ridiculous and fear-inducing thought, raised the flashlight, and swept the beam around. I saw some low shrubs and tall shadows in the distance, which must have been willows.

"Is anyone there?"

The voice still vanished without reply. I checked the time: twenty minutes before eight. Another question suddenly occurred to me: Shi Liu Bay is huge, and the other party didn't specify a location. How could I know if I was even in the right spot?

I urgently peered into the distance and spotted a small rise in the ground, so I hurried toward it. Apart from willows and the bay, this area offered little else. Standing on the small mound, I could see almost all of Shi Liu Bay, though, at night, it was still just a vast stretch of blackness.

"I'm here!"

This time, there was a response, but it was only an echo.

Whoosh!

A low cry suddenly erupted from the darkness, like the wail of a ghost. I immediately switched the flashlight to its brightest setting and shone the beam toward the sound. A dark shape suddenly sprang from the woods, bobbing up and down, running along a circular path—it was a wild boar.

I retracted the flashlight, paused, then shone it back toward the woods again, catching the slow-moving boar one more time. Something long and black was trailing behind it. Focusing my gaze, I realized it was a rope—a nylon cord, as thick as a finger.

My heart leaped into my throat. Someone had deliberately tied it here. But why would anyone be so bored as to tie a wild boar to a tree in Shi Liu Bay, the site of multiple body dumps?

My eyes somehow drifted to my wrist, and I gasped in shock. The minute hand was pointing exactly at the 12. It was precisely eight o’clock in the evening—the time set by the mysterious caller. And at this exact moment, a wild boar tethered by a rope had broken free and appeared before me.

A mysterious person and a wild boar, coordinating with such flawless timing—was this coincidence or a deliberate arrangement?

Could the person who tied up the boar be the one who sent me the cryptic email?

But how could they calculate the timing so precisely, ensuring the wild boar broke free at this exact second?

The thought sparked a realization—yes, that was the key to the whole thing!

I rushed frantically toward the spot where the boar had first appeared. Agitated and tense, and with the ground uneven, I stumbled several times, finally arriving at the willow grove, covered in dirt and grime.

Following my memory, I found the spot where I first saw the boar, but nothing was there. I searched the surroundings, walking about ten paces to the left, and finally found abrasion marks on a willow trunk as thick as a thigh—that must have been where the boar was tied.

I looked at the willow tree. In the darkness, its branches stretched out like countless arms, brandishing themselves like demonic claws. Fortunately, northern willows aren't like their southern cousins; their branches weren't long enough to grab me. I stepped forward, twisted the flashlight beam to its maximum intensity, and examined the area closely.

There was nothing unusual in the front. So, I walked around to the back of the tree. When the light hit the rear, I saw a strange object tightly nailed to the trunk. Below it, a severed piece of rope dangled limply.

It suddenly hit me: wild boars are herbivores, and their teeth have degenerated to be like those of an eighty-year-old woman. They certainly couldn't chew through a nylon rope. Therefore, the rope must have been cut by this strange device.

The word "cut" struck me like a physical blow. For some inexplicable reason, ever since this series of murders began, I have dreaded that word. Seeing it instantly brought back visions of the cold, sharp edge of a cicada-wing blade sliding through human flesh, rendered so vividly I felt as if I were the one holding the knife.

The flashlight beam fixed on the strange object. It had a component resembling an electronic board, below which was a scissor-like mechanism. One handle of the scissors had a weight hanging from it, and next to the weight were three protruding pivot points.

I understood. It was a trap mechanism. The scissors were originally open, and the weight provided the force to close them and sever the rope. The weight had originally been suspended by a small pendulum hanging from the three pivot points. When the electronic board received a wireless signal, it vibrated, shaking loose the small pendulum from the three points, causing the weight to drop. The scissors would then close, cutting the rope, and freeing the boar.

I had to admit, the device was cleverly constructed and quite innovative. I’m sure many hunting enthusiasts would find good use for it. But why would the perpetrator go to all this trouble, just to have me come out in the middle of the night to examine his little invention?

I grasped the mechanism. The outer wooden casing didn't feel very sturdy. I hesitated—should I pry this thing open?

Perhaps the culprit left a clue inside, or perhaps he wanted to tell me something. Maybe it was someone who knew the truth but was afraid of exposure, going to such great lengths just to protect himself. If I gave up, his effort would be wasted.

I considered it, tightened my grip, and pulled hard outward. The wooden casing sprang open, revealing a small white cloth bundle. The bundle wasn't large, shaped like a cylinder, only slightly thicker than my finger. I even suspected it might contain a human finger.

Carefully unwrapping layer after layer, the fear in my heart slowly subsided. It couldn't be a finger; the small bundle was now quite short and slender, the hard object inside much shorter than a human finger.

Unbeknownst to me, sweat had already coated my forehead. When the tension of holding it gave way to gravity, a bead of sweat, large as a bean, dropped onto the small cloth bundle. As the moisture spread, a faint ring of red bloomed outward, like the crimson mark of a demon, making my heart race. Especially in this dark night, at this desolate location, amidst this bizarre event, that almost invisible ring of red began to shatter my composure.

Trembling, I opened the final layer. What appeared before me was, in fact, a phalanx.

Just one segment from a three-jointed finger. Because it had been separated from the body for a while, the blood had coagulated. My sweat had diluted it just now, causing the cloth strip to absorb the color.

Only then did I notice faint markings on the strip—a pale blue. Earlier, I had been so focused on the contents that I had overlooked them.

I forgot my fear and stared intently. They were writing! The characters were slightly blurred by the diluted red blood, but they were still legible.

"One hundred meters east, if you see these words in time."

Without a moment's hesitation, I sprang up, propelled by reflex. My latent abilities, which usually failed me even in daylight, guided me accurately eastward.

The flashlight beam slashed wildly through the dark canvas of the night, a result of my panicked, reckless flight. I stumbled and fell repeatedly, but I didn't stop; even when I fell, I kept rolling forward, because I had a dawning sense of the perpetrator's intention and knew what awaited me one hundred meters east.

I ran heedlessly for what felt like a great distance, when suddenly a ditch blocked my path. The dark sky was reflected on the water's surface, still black as dense ink. I couldn't tell how deep it was, but without hesitation, I leaped in. The water surged, reflecting distorted, grotesque shadows. At that moment, I felt like the tender, fair-skinned Tang Monk who had accidentally strayed into a lair of demons and stepped right on the tail of the Great Demon.

Suddenly, amidst the many strange reflections, I caught sight of a familiar face and instantly held my breath.

Xiao Xuan?

I saw Xiao Xuan!

How was this possible? How could Xiao Xuan be in a demon's lair?

I frantically looked around, searching, but Xiao Xuan’s image flashed only for a second before disappearing with the ripples. My heart pounded with anxiety. I swept the flashlight everywhere. Suddenly, about ten meters away, a patch of ghastly white appeared on the surface of the black water.

The flashlight beam shot over. When I clearly saw the pale object, I was overcome with delirious joy—it was Xiao Xuan’s face!

Then, my heart plummeted just as fast. Why were her eyes closed? And she wasn't responding to my voice. Could it be that she had already…

I dared not think further, hacking through the reeds and thorns, throwing myself forward. I swept her into my arms, summoning all the strength I possessed, and yelled: "Xiao Xuan! Xiao Xuan!"

Her face was incredibly pale, almost bluish, and her lips were turning black. Her eyes were tightly shut, showing no sign of life. I tentatively reached under her nose and felt the slightest puff of air. Finally, my heart settled back into my chest.

Holding Xiao Xuan, I didn't know how to express the turmoil inside me; tears streamed down my face like a gambler's reckless, all-or-nothing wager. I tried to pull her closer, but I felt something underneath preventing me. Reaching into the water, my hand closed around a metal frame. It was then I realized Xiao Xuan was tied to this structure.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of rushing water. I turned my head and saw that the ditch above was rapidly draining through a small sluice gate. Only then did I grasp the meaning of the words on the strip of cloth: if I had been even one minute later, I might never have seen her again.

That utterly deranged bastard—if he ever falls into my hands, I’ll make him wish he’d never been born! I thought viciously, yet I knew that such a meticulous planner, whose cunning rivaled that of a Nine-Tailed Fox, would not be easy to capture.

In this bastard's eyes, the lives and deaths of others were nothing more than passing clouds. He was merely intent on playing his part, luring others in to become his toys.

What role was he trying to play—God?

What chilled me most was that he didn't treat a police officer’s life with any regard, merely treating it as a game. This was an extreme and insane form of contempt.

I quickly untied the thin rope around Xiao Xuan’s waist. She remained unconscious, eyes tightly shut, completely devoid of vitality. I carried her to the bank and laid her flat on the ground, then squeezed her abdomen hard, but to no avail. Finally, I resorted to mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

The moment I touched Xiao Xuan’s lips, cold as a corpse, the anger inside me erupted. But in the vast darkness, I had no target for my fury, so I could only forcefully press my lips against hers, inhaling and exhaling repeatedly.

With a gasp, Xiao Xuan’s body convulsed, and then her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Xiao Xuan, it's me! Look, it's me!"

Xiao Xuan looked at me blankly, as if she didn't recognize me. Her gaze was terrifying, as if harboring a monster I didn't know.

"Xiao Xuan, I'm Wang Lei. Don't you recognize me?"

Xiao Xuan’s head turned slowly and mechanically. I genuinely worried her head might rotate a full 180 degrees, but thankfully, my fear was unfounded. Her head turned back, then rotated away again as she scanned her surroundings.

"Where am I?"

The familiar tone confirmed it was Xiao Xuan; she was alive, and asking this question usually meant consciousness was returning.

"This is Shi Liu Bay." As I said this, I suddenly remembered I was in a pitch-black, terrifying, and eerie body-dump site, and cold sweat broke out on my back.

"Shi Liu Bay?" Xiao Xuan’s brow furrowed, a hint of confusion crossing her expressionless face.

I quickly added, "You were tied up in the water; I just pulled you out."

Xiao Xuan’s delicate eyebrows furrowed even deeper, as if she couldn't believe me, but my heart soared—this was the real Xiao Xuan.

"Senior Brother, you’re not tricking me, are you?" Xiao Xuan began to question me.

"How could I? Am I that kind of person? You were in terrible danger just now. If I had been a minute late, you probably would have been..."

"Would have been what?"

"Eaten by the monsters."

Seeing that Xiao Xuan was safe, my spirits lifted. Even though this was a place ghosts wouldn't linger, my heart was filled with warmth. I wished I could just hold her here in Shi Liu Bay for the rest of our lives.

"Mmm, you’re squeezing me too hard."

Xiao Xuan let out a soft, melodious moan, like cotton gently brushing my ears, indescribably comforting and pleasant. I tightened my embrace instinctively until a sharp, needle-like pain shot up my thigh, forcing me to loosen my hold.