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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 48: Human Skin Puppet (Part One)
After coming out with Qin Jian, he suggested we grab a drink, so we headed to a nearby farmhouse restaurant. Unfortunately, it was booked by a family in mourning. Seeing the wreaths and the Baymax flower at the entrance, we tacitly decided not to go in. Just as we were about to turn away, someone called out from behind, "Brother Qi."
I was quite surprised to see who it was.
I didn't say anything, but Qin Jian stepped forward and greeted the person who called me, "Fatty, you seem to be doing well lately; you've gained some weight."
Fatty chuckled and scratched his nose. "Qin, is that you?"
Qin Jian glanced at the people behind Fatty and the Baymax flower before asking, "Did you take this job?"
"Yeah, Qin. You should talk some sense into Brother Qi here. Brothers are always brothers; even if the bones are broken, the tendons still connect, right?"
Qin Jian smiled and replied, "Yes, Brother Qi still cares about you; he just can't let go of his pride." Then he turned to me and shouted across the street, "Qi, is that you?"
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and turned to face Fatty.
The moment he saw me, his eyes—hidden beneath layers of fat—lit up with a comical expression. Eagerly, he pulled out a box of Zhonghua Cigarettes and first offered one to Qin Jian before turning to me. "Brother Qi, have a smoke to calm down. Can we find a place to sit and talk?"
I didn't take his cigarette; I simply looked at him seriously and said, "Think carefully; don't be so careless about serious matters. There's no need for a conversation; Qin and I have other things to attend to. You can get back to your business!"
Fatty seemed disappointed and let out a soft "oh," retracting his hand and standing there foolishly as Qin Jian and I walked quite a distance away while he continued to watch us.
"Lao Qi, can't you give him a chance?"
"Once a dog, always a dog; the opportunity was given long ago, but unfortunately, he didn't take it seriously." This thought led me to Zhang Xian. Initially, I trusted her and noticed how pitiable she was, having lost her parents at such a young age. Yet, she harbored so many hidden burdens within her heart.
However, the more one tries to hide certain things, the heavier the psychological burden becomes.
It was true that Zhang Xian had been in a car accident. It was also true that she wanted to block out all memories of what had happened. Even when her good friend sacrificed his life to protect her, she maintained a calm and terrifyingly indifferent demeanor as she avoided confronting it. The events surrounding Zhang Xian were not influenced by supernatural forces; rather, it was her own inner demons that had driven her to this point.
Qin Jian asked, "What are you daydreaming about?"
What could I possibly be thinking? Just like when I tested Zhang Xian about going back to see her parents, she casually agreed. At that moment, I felt she was absent-minded. Her own parents had passed away, and she had successfully abandoned a foster mother. What kind of parents did she even have left? Yet, she didn’t seem to register any of this and was lost in her own thoughts.
"Zhang Xian is such a schemer; what she says and what she thinks are two different things. There's a saying for that: actions speak louder than words."
I gave Qin Jian a thumbs up; it was rare for him to be humorous, and I had to commend him for his accurate description.
"We're a bit unlucky; we walked into the first place and found Baymax flowers."
"Not really; it's just a coincidence. Should we try another place?"
Qin Jian nodded in agreement to switch locations. We got into the car together. He seemed more familiar with this area than I was and quickly drove five hundred meters to a decent barbecue restaurant. The aroma of grilled meat was unique and enticing—just one glance made my mouth water uncontrollably.
I thought to myself, you can talk big all you want; let's go check it out first.
As we planned to indulge in some barbecue as a treat for our stomachs, an unexpected phone call came through. Qin Jian handed me the phone and said, "You answer."
I answered the phone and immediately heard a frantic voice on the other end, urgently requesting that Qin Jian return to the station with me.
This was the first case Qin Jian had taken over since the last incident, and there was no time to review the files of the unsolved case that needed to be investigated. Now, another bizarre case had arisen—one that most people would hesitate to handle.
The conversation was too sensitive to discuss over the phone; the caller insisted we return to the station as soon as possible. I handed the phone to Qin Jian.
Qin Jian was irritated, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. It seemed his plans for a little reward for himself were going to fall through.
I thought to myself that if this time didn’t work out, there would always be another opportunity. We needed to see what had actually happened.
The car sped down the road, sirens blaring as we made our way directly to the city police department without any hindrance.
On the way, Qin Jian received another call from his superior, instructing him not to return to the station but to go straight to the scene of the incident.
After hanging up, Qin Jian muttered a curse under his breath: “Damn!” Then he fell silent as we continued toward the scene.
The incident site was located in a suburban area, slightly removed from the city but not entirely devoid of activity. Police tape fluttered in the wind around the perimeter, and the People's Police guarding the area recognized us as colleagues and didn’t question us. They lifted the tape and let us through, leading us to a three-story house at the center of the cordoned-off area.
Qin Jian's superior appeared impatiently waiting for us. Upon seeing us arrive, he forced a smile and waved, saying, “You finally made it.”
He led us into a bedroom on the second floor, directly into the crime scene.
On the floor lay a body covered by a thin blanket. As I approached, I noticed there was no foul odor; this corpse was quite fresh. Under his superior's guidance, Qin Jian crouched down and reached out to lift the blanket covering the body while another officer began explaining the test results and details about the deceased's age and gender.
The Brother Police introduced the deceased as a male, approximately between the ages of 0 and 45, standing around six feet tall, a strong and robust man in the prime of his life. However, when we uncovered the blanket covering the body, both Qin Jian and I couldn't help but gasp in shock.
What was going on?
The corpse did not match the actual age or physical stature at all. It wasn't a data error; rather, for some unknown reason, his entire body appeared to have shrunk grotesquely. His toes and feet were bent in an exaggerated manner, suggesting that before death, he had experienced excruciating cramping pain that left his toes twisted in a way that no amount of force could straighten them.
The deceased lay on his back, his face pale, eyes slightly open, and his limbs showed varying degrees of atrophy. His skin—looking at it reminded one of magnolia petals soaked in water and processed with some kind of chemical.
Moreover, this pale skin was wrinkled. When I touched it with my gloved fingers, it felt icy cold. The skin could be gently pulled away, as if it were detached from the bones yet still clinging tightly together. Overall, at first glance, the body appeared so soft and devoid of strength that it seemed as if its spine had been removed, lying flat against the ground.
There were no visible fatal injuries on the surface of the body; his facial expression was frozen in a moment of despair and fear. There was little else to investigate. The body was about to be sent to the Mortuary for an autopsy when I suddenly noticed something clenched between the deceased's fingers. Leaning down for a closer look, I discovered a nearly invisible thread and quickly used tweezers to extract it bit by bit.
It was a strand of high-quality hair, curled and roughly ten centimeters long.
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