Netherworld Investigator

Chapter 240

Xiaotao snapped her fingers and said, "Nanjiang City has three slaughterhouses. This guy is muscular and has such noticeable tattoos that even Dali would be able to locate him."

"Hey Xiaotao-jiejie, could you not use me as an antithesis?!" complained Dali.

It was already 11 pm so Xiaotao ordered everyone to go home. The plan for tomorrow morning was to visit the three slaughterhouses so we could be certain that The Strongest Mantis Shrimp was at work.

Although Xiaotao urged us to go home, none of us wanted to leave. After all, the more videos we watched, the more clues we could analyze.

When the next video played, The Strongest Mantis Shrimp was standing in the second victim’s home. There was a sack on the bed behind him that seemed to contain the corpse. With a mask covering part of his face, he excitedly shouted at the camera, "Buddies, let’s have some fun today! I have prepared a human body explosion! Hurry up, click on those rewards! When we reach a thousand, I’ll blow up the body!"

"From his accent, he sounds like a Northerner!" commented Wang Yuanchao.

"Buddy, are you ok?!" Dali chimed in.

I stared at him in frustration. This idiot could crack a joke regardless of the occasion. Was this really a suitable time?

We fast-forwarded the segment where The Strongest Mantis Shrimp began fixing the bombs. At last, the streamer untied the sack and carried out the corpse. I told Lao Yao to pause the video so I could carefully examine the body, then told him to continue.

The events that followed were almost the same as we speculated, that is, the body was blown up with the entire house.

The video featured him exploding a car. Because it was late at night, the surroundings were relatively dark. The Strongest Mantis Shrimp sounded exhilarated, almost incoherent this time. I doubted we would find any important clues so I said, "Lao Yao, let’s move on to Storm Punisher’s video."

Like the previous two, it was dark at the beginning. Storm Punisher recited the same presumptuous lines as if he were some high-ranking judge. But this time, there were no pleas of mercy from the victim, only loud whining.

The scene lit up and everyone drew a sharp breath.

There was a long-haired woman wearing a straitjacket with a hook pierced through her tongue. A chain connected the hook to a disc-shaped mechanism.

A faint hissing sound that signalled a gas leak filled the room. In order to survive, the woman had to pull the mechanism with her tongue to close the gas valve.

The structure of the mechanism was exactly the same as the designs the old man had drawn. I grew more and more certain that he was related to the case.

I called for a pause again and stared at the picture. "That straitjacket!" I exclaimed.

"The number on the straitjacket has worn off." remarked Xiaotao.

"That’s a clue in itself,” I clarified. “Don’t you see? There isn’t any wear and tear throughout the entire straitjacket, suggesting that the murderer might have worn it off himself. If he had simply stolen it, why would he have to remove the numbers? That’s because it would reveal personal information about him!"

"Song Yang, do you mean to say that the murderer lived in a mental hospital for some time?" Xiaotao raised an eyebrow in question.

"Judging from his character and manner of speaking, it’s very likely that he has stayed in a mental hospital for quite a long time,” I conjectured. “I think we should investigate the major mental hospitals."

Xiaotao nodded and jotted the clue down.

As the video continued to play, the woman made strange noises from her throat. In fact, the gurgling sound was her choking on the gas and coughing with her tongue stuck out. It was a strange combination of gagging and coughing.

Soon, her cheeks turned red and her feet shook–signs of mild poisoning–as she slowly retreated.

To survive, she had to persist in moving backwards, the metal hook in her tongue dragging in a downward motion as her tongue was ripped out inch by inch!

Many officers were afraid to continue watching because of how unnerving the video was. Although the first two were just as cruel, the moment when the first victim’s arms were chopped off happened in an instant while the second victim was trapped in the armor, painting a far less disturbing visual impact.

"I’m going crazy!" blurted Xiaotao with her head bowed.

"Let’s take a break,” I suggested. “If we continue watching, no one’s going to get any sleep tonight."

After Xiaotao dismissed the officers, we left the station together. "It’s already so late,” I said. “Don’t bother sending us back. We’ll take a cab. Tomorrow morning, you’ll investigate the slaughterhouse while we head to the prison."

"To see that old man again?” asked Xiaotao. “Fine, I’ll call them later to arrange a meeting for you tomorrow!"

"Xiao Song-song, I’ve worked so hard today!” interjected Lao Yao. “Won’t you treat me to some turtle, bull penis or lamb kidney?"

"They’re all aphrodisiacs! Aren’t you afraid of getting a nosebleed tomorrow?" chided Dali.

"That’s fine,” Lao Yao raised an eyebrow. “I’ll get Xiao Song-song to help me relieve the heat."

Goosebumps prickled my entire body. "Can you still eat after watching those nauseating videos?" I asked.

"Of course!" Lao Yao nodded.

Lao Yao still insisted that I invite him out for a midnight snack but Xiaotao mentioned she had enough points on her credit card to redeem a seafood meal for one and promised Lao Yao he could have it some other time.

"Seafood dinner?" cried Lao Yao cheerfully. “Xiaotao-jiejie, you’re the best!"

Xiaotao sent him the redemption certificate through her phone. At the time, we were quite envious that Lao Yao had a sumptuous meal awaiting him. But we later learned that the so-called seafood meal was actually a bowl of rice, baked scallop, and a side dish made of kelp. Of course, Lao Yao came back whingeing and moaning about how he had been fooled. I had to admit, Xiaotao was an expert at dealing with this shameless guy!

The next morning, I dragged Dali out of bed, grabbed a cab outside the school gates and headed straight to the prison. When I reported our destination, the driver looked at us strangely.

"Aren’t we going to the station?" asked Dali.

"No, we’ll take a two-pronged approach.” I said. “I’m going to visit that old fox again!"

When we arrived at Mount Leopard Prison, I told the driver to wait for us at the gate so he could take us back to the city.

"What are you two students doing here?" asked the cab driver.

Dali deliberately imitated a vulgar gangster and growled, "We’re fetching our boss out of jail! He was incarcerated for murdering someone but he’s finally out for parole."

Looking at the driver who was livid with fear, I reproached, "Why the hell did you scare him? How are we going to go back if he leaves?"

At the instant those words left my lips, the cab driver fled, leaving us with a face full of exhaust fumes. "Look at what you’ve done!” I admonished. “That’s the price of fooling around, you idiot!"

"But it’s fine when you do it!” argued Dali. “Why does this happen when it’s my turn..."

"Well it depends who you’re talking to!" I laughed

Because Xiaotao informed the detention officer in advance, the guards took us directly to meet the old man. After waiting in the visitation room for a while, the rattling sound of shackles broke the silence. The old man was brought out by a prison guard, still looking as healthy and energetic as before. He greeted us with a smile. "You’re early! Have you had your breakfast?"

I quietly fished out three items–a pack of cigarettes, an empty piece of paper and a pencil. When the old man saw the cigarettes, he was so delighted his eyes narrowed into a slit. Without a care for courtesy, he opened the pack, drew out a cigarette, and stuffed the rest into his pocket.

"We made a mistake,” I started. “It was actually three murders. There was another victim before the other two."

The old man puffed away and asked, "Kiddo, are you asking me to restore the crime scene again?"

"Yes!" I nodded.

I described the first case, only describing the appearance of the victim when he was found. After a moment’s contemplation, the old man picked up the pencil, started drawing and handed the paper back to me when he was finished.

The sketch he drew looked exactly the same as the contraption in the video. I slammed the table and shouted, "Qi Sheng, tell me frankly, how are you related to the murderer?"