Chapter 304: What the Hell is a Sweet Romance?

Wang Dong felt a mix of emotions. He had always thought the kid was oscillating between being godlike and just average.

Take the current crime scene investigation, for instance.

While it was inevitable that clues would eventually surface, the ability to directly identify traces and immediately deduce the method of the crime—like Xiao Yu could—was something even seasoned investigators with decades of experience couldn’t do.

***

Interrogation Room, C City Police Headquarters

Xiao Yu and Wang Dong stared at the woman sitting across from them.

Jian Yingying, female, 20 years old, a migrant from another province, a prostitute, and also a victim in this case.

According to her testimony, she had been lured, imprisoned, and forced into prostitution after coming to C City for work a year and a half ago.

She was also the one who reported the crime.

“According to your statement, at 3:51 a.m. three days ago, you discovered the victims’ bodies and used one of their phones to call the police. Is that correct?”

Wang Dong’s voice was cold as he questioned her. His tone wasn’t kind, nor was it appropriate for addressing a victim.

But…

“Yes,” Jian Yingying nodded, lowering her head.

She didn’t dare meet the eyes of the two men before her. Even though they weren’t in uniform, they were clearly police officers.

“Why are you lying?”

Wang Dong’s tone turned even harsher.

This was the real reason for his poor attitude.

How many times had investigators been sent on wild goose chases because of false statements?

Sometimes, those who gave false testimonies were even more infuriating than the criminals themselves.

Don’t doubt it.

In Xiao Yu’s past experience with numerous cases, false testimonies had often turned potential resolutions into unsolvable mysteries.

“I…”

Jian Yingying’s face turned pale, her body trembling as she appeared utterly helpless.

This was the typical reaction of someone caught lying.

Experienced manipulators might feign calmness, confusion, or even surprise, but Jian Yingying was too inexperienced for such deception.

Wang Dong glanced at Xiao Yu. It was a look that clearly said: You nailed it!

‘If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll carve your name on my underwear and let you choke on it,’ Xiao Yu thought, rolling his eyes.

“How was the iron door on the first floor opened?” Wang Dong went straight to the point.

“…” Jian Yingying’s body flinched.

“You were the one who helped the killer open it, weren’t you?”

Wang Dong’s words were deliberate, spoken coldly and slowly.

Jian Yingying began trembling even more violently.

It was clear. Xiao Yu and Wang Dong both silently nodded to themselves. Her defenses had collapsed. She would likely answer any question now.

“What did the killer look like?” Xiao Yu asked, staring directly into Jian Yingying’s eyes.

“He… he was wearing a hood!” she quickly replied, shaking her head.

“Height? Build? Eyes?”

“Over 1.8 meters, a bit thin,” she stammered after thinking for a moment. “Single eyelid… His eyes were… so cold. They didn’t look human. They were terrifying!”

Over 1.8 meters tall, thin, single eyelid, and cold eyes… Xiao Yu frowned. He thought about the shoe size he observed on the rooftop. The build seemed to match.

Generally, taller people have larger feet, while shorter individuals have smaller feet—though there are exceptions.

By analyzing the footprint size, one can estimate height. The depth of the footprint is proportional to the person’s weight and the surface area of the foot. Given the known depth and footprint size, it was possible to approximate the individual’s weight.

This was basic training from the police academy.

The questions were to confirm his deductions.

The final profile: Male, around 1.8 meters tall, weighing approximately 70-75 kilograms, single eyelid, cold demeanor, left-handed.

Why left-handed?

Xiao Yu had deduced this from the autopsy.

The differences between left-handed and right-handed perpetrators were often obvious.

Even if the killer’s face couldn’t be identified, they now had a general outline. From this, it was clear that the same individual was responsible for all these crimes.

Yet the trail had gone cold again.

The killer’s methods were skilled, showing strong awareness of reconnaissance and counter-surveillance.

The scene left few traces beyond the crime itself.

Relying on vague deductions made it difficult to locate the suspect.

The most critical point: Stealing lithography machine data, killing three gangsters, murdering a drug lord, killing a wealthy heir, and now killing three more individuals.

Five cases in total, carried out in four different cities.

Except for the wealthy heir’s case and this recent execution-style killing, there were no clear connections among the crimes. Moreover, aside from the lithography machine data, all the victims seemed to be bad people.

Did these bad people deserve to die?

Perhaps.

But that didn’t justify anyone taking it upon themselves to judge them.

If it did, what would be the purpose of the law?

Why would we need police officers or national security agencies?

To kill and punish at will—what right does anyone have?

“Let’s head back to the capital.”

Walking out of the interrogation room, Xiao Yu said, “He’s no longer in this city.”

With no leads, staying here was meaningless.

The suspect’s height, weight, gender, and habits were confirmed. Since the root cause stemmed from a novel, they would have to continue investigating along that trail.

The system-imposed deadline wasn’t a joke. The difficulty of solving this case was self-evident. 

But Xiao Yu was certain of one thing. This was a man-made event, not a supernatural one. What he couldn’t figure out was the connection between the suspect and the novelist, Fang Shuoxin.

How were they “communicating” with each other?

If this method of communication couldn’t be uncovered, the case might never get solved.

***

National Security Division 2, Capital City

The moment Xiao Yu saw Fang Shuoxin again, he froze.

Not only had Fang Shuoxin finished refining the plot of his previous novel, but he had also started writing a new story—an eerie one.

But this new plot had nothing to do with any of the cases. Instead… it was about love?

After reading Fang Shuoxin’s draft, Xiao Yu’s expression turned incomparably strange.

A perfectly good spy thriller had somehow turned into a sweet romance.