Chapter 362: Is the Rebellious Son an Uncontrollable Madman?

"Boom—"

Flames instantly engulfed his entire body; in that instant, what he felt was not merely the agonizing pain of his skin being seared, but a kind of thorough collapse.

His consciousness seemed to be cracked into fragments by the raging fire, each fragment imprinted with — Ninth District Patrol House Forensic Pathology Identification Document sdecs-458.

"Am I reenacting the death on the autopsy report?"

Chen Yang wanted to scream, wanted to roar, but his throat emitted only a few wisps of hoarse airflow.

His jaw had been forcibly dislocated by someone; even making a sound had become an extravagant hope.

He struggled and twisted in the flames, like an ignited insect dancing wildly in the fierce fire; every convulsion of his limbs was like a survival instinct making a final struggle.

He crashed into furniture, fell to the floor, and climbed up again.

He struggled madly, wanting to extinguish the flames on his body, but it was all in vain.

The flames burned ever more fiercely; his vision began to blur, his consciousness gradually dissipating.

Finally, like a cornered wild beast with no way out, he used all the strength in his body and slammed straight toward the passage to freedom — the window.

"Crash—"

The sound of shattering glass tore through the dark night sky; a body of flesh and blood carrying flames leaped out the window, the night wind whistling past his ears, taking away his last few strands of consciousness.

His body dragged an arc of flames and thick smoke through the air, like a burning meteor, announcing his end in a posture that made one's hair stand on end.

"Thud—"

The sound of impact was dull and horrifying, like a large rusted iron block smashed into mud.

The ground trembled once!

Flames still burned tenaciously on his body, emitting "crackling" sounds.

Firelight reflected on his face; that young, ambitious face was now twisted and deformed, skin charred black, flesh and blood blurred, leaving only a pile of eerie charred meat stacked there, like a mask from hell.

Upstairs, by the window, a man wearing a snake-faced mask stood silently.

His gaze, through the eyeholes of the mask, coldly watched the burning corpse downstairs, as if appreciating his own created artwork.

The night breeze brushed past, fluttering his hem, emitting a soft "rustling" sound.

He slowly took out a stack of paper documents from his bosom; the edges of the paper were slightly worn from repeated perusal.

"The night is deep..."

He murmured to himself; a gloomy, eerie laugh leaked from beneath the mask,

"Junior Sister has been cultivating too diligently lately, not even enough time to sleep; this rough work, let Senior Brother me take the trouble to handle it instead."

As he spoke, his fingers lightly flicked; a corner of the documents was ignited, the flame rapidly spreading, devouring the paper.

Firelight reflected on his mask; the snake face's patterns appeared especially sinister in the light and shadow:

"Otherwise Junior Sister would never grow tall; wouldn't that become Junior Brother's fault? That wouldn't be pretty!"

His laughter was morbid and eerie, as if an invisible snake coiling up from the soles of his feet, slipping into the night with the wind...

Downstairs, Feng Ju stood at the scene of Chen Yang's fatal fall, his gaze fixed dead on the charred corpse beneath his feet.

He stood ramrod straight, as if his body was still forcibly propping up some dignity, but his heart had already been turned upside down; even a hidden terror was slowly devouring his reason.

The night was dark as ink; the air was permeated with a scorched smell, mixed with the stench of blood and the odor of accelerant, making one nauseous.

Chen Yang's corpse had already been burned beyond recognition; charred black skin split open, revealing the dark red flesh inside; limbs twisted into an eerie posture.

Although the flames had already been extinguished, the corpse still emitted wisps of green smoke, still silently narrating the despair and agony before death.

This case theoretically had nothing to do with him; he was currently pursuing the 【Case of Falsehood】, no need to come over, but upon hearing the news of Chen Yang's death, Feng Ju still led a team to the scene at the first moment.

Feng Ju crouched down, refusing to wear gloves; his pitch-black mechanical fingers fundamentally wouldn't leave fingerprints, okay.

He reached out and gently pushed aside the charred skin, revealing a tear pierced from the back.

The wound's edges were neat; the blade entered from behind, precisely avoiding the ribs, piercing straight through the lung.

"This technique?!!"

Feng Ju's pupils abruptly constricted; his mind instantly surfaced with this morning's autopsy report.

That was the report forged by Chen Yang and Forensic Doctor Bai Ye together, used to frame Feng Mu; unexpectedly... this autopsy report ultimately became his own?!!

The victim was first stabbed through the lung, then doused with oil and burned, finally falling to death from a height... Chen Yang's corpse's manner of death, wasn't it exactly the same as the autopsy report he personally fabricated!

"Feng Mu this rebellious son..." Feng Ju murmured softly, his voice carrying a complex emotion.

He got out of the car, his gaze scanning the surroundings; every detail at the scene silently told him — this was the rebellious son's handiwork.

He had guessed the rebellious son would retaliate against Chen Yang, but the retaliation came this fast, this vicious, not even letting Chen Yang survive the night, and moreover in such an identical manner.

A chill rose from the bottom of Feng Ju's heart, as if an ice-cold snake crawled up his spine, coiling around his heart, slowly tightening.

"I've already accepted this rebellious son is no longer what he was, has grown a lot, but turns out he's already grown to this degree of ferocity and ruthlessness?"

The charred corpse was more convincing than any transcript; Feng Ju's throat was dry, recalling last night he still wanted to scold the rebellious son, saying even a small thing like killing couldn't be handled cleanly.

Unlike him leading a team, going on a rampage killing several 【Masks】 in a row yet doing it flawlessly; never expected, turns out the rebellious son walks a different path.

As a father, killing sneakily, covering up crimes covertly;

As a son, killing openly and brazenly, exonerating himself openly and uprightly;

Who is stronger, who is weaker; who is higher, who is lower?

Feng Ju found it hard to make a comparative judgment for a moment, but his face was already darker than the charred corpse; inexplicable anxiety surged in his heart.

He had always thought he understood his good-for-nothing son, but at this moment, he suddenly realized he might never have truly seen through Feng Mu.

"This rebellious son acts so arrogantly, viciously, simply like a madman; not only that, this rebellious son shows extreme vindictiveness, completely paying back grievances tenfold, and regardless of consequences!"

Feng Ju stood up, took out a cigarette from his pocket and clamped it in his mouth, waited half a day, yet didn't see Dong Ping come over to offer a light with a lighter.

Feng Ju displeasedly coughed heavily; only then did Dong Ping snap back to his senses, shifting his gaze away from the charred corpse, hurriedly taking out a lighter to light Feng Ju's cigarette.

Dong Ping carefully asked:

"Captain Feng, how do we handle this case?"

The blue-white car's lights fell on Feng Ju's face, illuminating half of it pale and half dark; his mind was in chaos, and hearing this he took a deep drag of his cigarette and countered:

"What do you think?"

Dong Ping swallowed a mouthful of saliva and gave a dry laugh:

"Chen Yang took bribes, fabricated evidence, his crimes were monstrous; knowing his future was bleak, he committed suicide out of fear of punishment, setting himself on fire?"

Feng Ju did not answer immediately, just smoked quietly, his gaze fixed on the charred corpse.

In his mind's eye Feng Mu's face surfaced — a young and cold face, those pitch-black eyes that seemed to reveal a blood-red hue.

Feng Ju began to truly realize:

Feng Mu was no longer the waste of a son he had thought him to be, but had grown into someone even more fierce, even more cruel, even more dangerous and uncontrollable than himself... a madman!!

Could a Feng Mu like this still be tethered home by familial affection?

Feng Ju took a deep drag of his cigarette, and after a long while slowly exhaled a smoke ring, sounding a bit exhausted:

"Fine, we'll do as you say; take the body back to the police station first, and once the forensic doctor issues the report, just take it straight to the incineration plant and burn it."

(End of Chapter)