Chapter 275: What Did He Do to the Cow?

Night. 2:11 a.m.

The darkness was oppressive, almost suffocating. It felt as though an inky blackness had been smeared heavily across the sky, blotting out even the faintest starlight.

In a narrow alleyway of an old neighborhood, a group of police officers was securing the scene.

A middle-aged female forensic examiner was conducting an on-site autopsy on what could barely be called a corpse.

Midnight investigations like this drained both energy and patience. And hunger was inevitable. Xiao Yu was starving. He held a box of milk in one hand, sipping through a straw with quiet slurps, his starry eyes fixed on the body—or what was left of it.

Calling it a body didn’t feel quite right.

It resembled something straight out of a horror movie or video game—a grotesque patchwork monster.

Two severed hands had been stitched onto the sides of the head, right where the wrists ended. It looked as though the head had sprouted tiny wings—or perhaps antlers, like a deer’s.

It was grotesque. Terrifying.

The thighs and shins had been severed, too.

The shins were sewn onto the stumps of what used to be arms, while the arms and upper thighs were stitched to the back.

The corpse itself had been flipped over, with its belly facing up. Where there should have been hands and legs, these twisted appendages now acted as four unnatural supports, propping up the misshapen figure.

And then there was the head.

Sewn onto the chest, it bore stitched-on hands that made it look even more disturbing.

Xiao Yu stared at the monstrous form, his mind whirling. The posture reminded him of something.

After a moment’s thought, it clicked.

A four-legged creature, perhaps? Like one of those wind-up toy dogs kids love to play with, the ones that walk on their own?

Xiao Yu stared at the grotesque corpse, taking in the chilling and macabre scene. He could almost feel the twisted, perverse humor the killer must have harbored.

Slurp. Another sip of milk.

His gaze shifted to the face of the corpse—the head sewn onto the chest. It was unsettling, to say the least. The eyes were wide open, not yet clouded, indicating the victim had been dead for no more than 12 to 14 hours.

But that wasn’t what caught Xiao Yu’s attention.

The face was smiling. Not just a faint grin, but a fully satisfied, disturbingly content expression.

The eerie juxtaposition sent a shiver through Xiao Yu’s mind. He couldn’t help but form a strange thought. It was almost as if the victim had approved of what had been done to him. As if he was somehow pleased with being dismembered, stitched back together, and left in this horrifying pose.

That bizarre, delighted smile combined with the Frankenstein-like body created an indescribable sense of unease.

Everyone at the scene felt it. Even the seasoned investigators looked pale, struggling to suppress their discomfort.

This wasn’t a matter of weak mental fortitude, it was just hard to stomach.

“How can you still drink that?”

The middle-aged forensic examiner, He Li, stood up and glanced at Xiao Yu, who was squatting nearby, sipping his milk.

“Hungry,” Xiao Yu replied, still focused on the body. “It’s gross, but being hungry is worse.”

With that, he pulled another carton of milk from his pocket and held it out to He Li.

“Midnight milk. It’s easy to digest, and great for putting on weight,” he said.

He Li shook her head, smiling faintly. “I may be getting old, but I don’t plan on turning into a fat auntie just yet.”

“Ha!” Xiao Yu turned his head, grinning at He Li. “So, how’d he die?”

He was asking about the cause of death. He hadn’t examined the body himself but had already formed a rough guess. Now, he just wanted confirmation.

Confirmation of a theory that was, frankly, hard to accept.

“Blood loss, shock, organ failure, death,” He Li replied, her expression growing strange.

Her eyes lingered on the victim’s face, on that unsettlingly content smile, as she gave her professional explanation.

“It’s clear from the body that his limbs were dismembered first, followed by live suturing. And right before he died, his head was severed and stitched onto his chest. That’s why his face still has… this expression.”

Xiao Yu nodded, his suspicions confirmed.

But his expression grew heavier, more uneasy. In his mind, a horrifying scene began to play out.

A person, watching as another dismembered him. Excited. Thrilled. As if admiring a masterpiece.

He watches his hands being severed. He watches his legs being cut off. He watches as his limbs are stitched back onto his body in grotesque positions. He watches as his hands are sewn onto his head. He dies, satisfied and exhilarated. Then his head is cut off. And finally, it’s stitched onto his chest.

His body transformed into a grotesque, human-like doll.

A chill ran down Xiao Yu’s spine, his skin crawling with goosebumps. Something complicated flickered in his eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

He couldn’t wrap his head around this kind of process. 

“The full autopsy and lab tests will tell us more,” He Li added, shaking her head. “We’ll need to check for any trace of drugs in the victim’s system.”

“Hmm.” Xiao Yu nodded.  

An analysis was absolutely necessary. After all, anyone would know that no ordinary person could endure the pain of having their limbs severed.  

That kind of pain could make someone pass out, even die from sheer agony. For those with poor pain tolerance, underlying heart conditions, or hypersensitive nerves, the experience could be fatal.  

Take biting one’s tongue to commit suicide, for example.  

A small fraction of people might die, but for most, severing the tongue wouldn’t be lethal. What really kills was the excruciating pain.  

Yet, looking at this victim’s face, there wasn’t a trace of pre-death suffering. That expression of satisfaction and joy—there was no way it was faked.  

If no anesthetics were used to numb the nerves, how could this victim have shown such a look?  

This was the part Xiao Yu couldn’t wrap his head around.  

After He Li and the other forensic doctors bagged the body and took it away, Xiao Yu stayed behind, crouching at the scene. He pulled out a second carton of milk and sipped as his eyes swept over the crime scene.  

“Chief, what’s on your mind?”  

Guo Qiang saw Xiao Yu sitting there for so long and casually asked.  

“I’m thinking about something,” Xiao Yu replied, his expression unusually serious.  

“Huh?” Guo Qiang blinked. “What are you thinking about?”  

“Tell me this…” Xiao Yu held up the empty milk carton, staring at the image of the cow on it. “The first person who figured out milk was drinkable, what the heck did they do to the cow?”  

Guo Qiang, “…”  

He stared at Xiao Yu, equal parts amused and baffled. One thought popped into his head, ‘The world is a big place, but meeting you feels like a stroke of bad luck.’