Chapter 535

You will never understand this battered, dented soda can; it is a child's hope to survive.

These are the words I left for that fat pig before I left; those who haven't experienced it don't understand the despair that life brings, and won't realize the hope that such a small thing once gave me.

Holding the small can, I excitedly returned to Tongyuan Bay, but soon I realized something was off. This little can still had water droplets, even though I had just stepped on and flattened it; I was so excited that I failed to notice.

Think about it, I'm also foolish—being such a grown person, how can I still be so naive? For those on duty, stealing evidence is a capital offense; how could they possibly hand it over to you so easily?

I thought I had seen through human affairs, but I still couldn't overcome this slickness of the human heart.

"What should we do now?" Murong Jia Jia asked,

I shook my head and said, "Let's wait until Han Duo wakes up before we talk."

The night passed silently; the next day, when I woke from the bunk, Han Duo's figure was nowhere to be seen in Tongyuan Bay. I ran all over the streets in fright, thinking she couldn't take it and had done something foolish.

However, my worry was unnecessary; at noon, Han Duo returned. Seeing her come back, I couldn't help but rush up and anxiously ask her: "Where did you go? Why did it take you so long to come back?"

Han Duo glanced at the children in the room, gesturing for me to go outside before speaking.

"Where did you go? I was almost scared to death by you, you know?" I grabbed Han Duo's shoulder and asked anxiously.

"I went to deliver money to the hospital and, on the way, looked up some information." Han Duo's voice was still hoarse, but her eyes were not as lifeless as yesterday.

She pulled something from her bosom and handed it to me: "Look at this."

I took it and saw it was Chen Zhi's eight characters; when I calculated with my fingers, I couldn't help but be startled. Chen Zhi turned out to be a child born at the ten-spirit hour on the ten-spirit day; according to numerology, such a birth time gives the child immense spiritual energy, making it hard for ordinary ghosts and gods to disturb.

Is this a coincidence…… or a key?

Just as I was wondering, Han Duo said, "Not only Chen Zhi, but several other deceased children were also born at the ten-spirit hour on the ten-spirit day."

"Oh, the others..." Han Duo's words left me puzzled; in Tongyuan Bay, we didn't even know the eight characters of these two deceased children, did we?

However, the words coming out of Han Duo's mouth startled me even more.

She said the deceased children were not just the four we knew of; in recent times, the city has seen a series of murders—two or three cases—where children died the same way as Xin Xin: their souls were taken and their brains drained. Even more astonishing is that their birth times and eight characters share a similar trait: they were born at the ten-spirit hour.

"Let's go to their homes and have a look, and by the way check where the children's bodies were," I thought; in my view, the place where they died might certainly leave some clues.

The first place we went to was the crime scene where the two children died, a small alley not far from the orphanage. A gloomy, damp corner was where the child was found.

However, after searching for a long time, Han Duo and I were disappointed in unison; the alley yielded no useful clues. This place, I suspect, is not the original crime scene but where the children's bodies were dumped after death.

Indeed, considering it, the process from soul‑taking to brain‑draining cannot be completed in just a minute or two; no matter how covert or careful the perpetrator is, there will always be some trace—or an eyewitness.

Han Duo and I didn't think the killer would be a fool, so we readily abandoned this spot and instead chose to go to the second child's home.

The second murdered little girl was named Fang Fang, only five years old, living in the suburbs. Han Duo and I took a taxi directly there, arriving by evening.

Fang Fang's hometown was even more remote; not even the taxi driver dared to drive us to the destination, only dropping us off far at the intersection. After getting out of the car, Han Duo and I had no choice but to walk the rest of the way.

"Hai Sheng, what do you think the killer wants with so many children's souls?" Han Duo suddenly asked me as we walked.

I shook my head and said I didn't know. After all, in my understanding, even if one wanted to raise child spirits or take living souls, there's no need to suck out a child's brain.

"Let's go take a look first; maybe there will be some valuable clues," I said. Han Duo and I slowly walked toward the address written on the materials, not knowing how she managed to find the victims' information in such a short time.

From afar I saw a dilapidated small house; we had walked nearly a kilometer, and though there were many houses, few had their lights on. This area is not downtown, not a bustling market, nor developed—it's a very remote stretch. The buildings lining the road are rented out as factories or as scrap‑recycling stations. At night, human presence virtually disappears.

Fang Fang's home still had its lights on, perhaps because it is the only scrap‑recycling station within a two‑li radius.

Pushing open the slightly dilapidated door, a foul, smoky odor hit me at once, making me cough repeatedly as I hurriedly covered my nose.

"Anyone here?" I called a few times inside, but got no reply. Han Duo and I entered, yet saw no one.

When Han Duo and I split up to open the doors on either side, she suddenly cried out "Ah!" in a panicked voice. Frightened, I immediately turned and ran into the room where she was.

The sight before me almost stunned me as well: in the moldy room lay two corpses, their heads missing, while blood continued to trickle from the severed necks.

"Thud… thud… thud…" At that moment, Han Duo and I suddenly heard heavy footsteps coming from the rear hill; the cottage front faces a road, while behind it lies wild mountains and ridges.

Moreover, a section of the cottage's wall had collapsed, as if shoved down by force. Almost at the same instant we heard the sound, Han Duo and I, without prior agreement, chased after the breach.

The corpses inside the house still had bright red blood flowing from their necks, and the approaching footsteps were very likely those of the killer.

Han Duo and I had considered this, so upon hearing the footsteps we immediately gave chase; just as we were about to reach the ridge, a bulky figure entered our field of view.

"Hai Sheng, look quickly, the child…" Han Duo pointed at that burly figure ahead and exclaimed.

Without Han Duo needing to say more, as I caught up to that silhouette I clearly saw the child he was carrying in his hand; his steps were clumsy, the child in his grasp had already lost consciousness, and I couldn't tell whether he was dead or alive.

"Stop!" I shouted at him, but he seemed not to hear me, continuing to walk forward step by step. In the end I didn't waste words—I rushed forward and grabbed his shoulder.

The moment I touched him, a chilling cold pierced my heart; his shoulder emitted a frigidity like frost. As soon as I made contact, my hand nearly froze solid.

Whether I shouted or grabbed his shoulder, the bulky figure paid me no heed, continuing to stride forward step by step without turning his head.

"Hey, you stop, or I'll strike!" I threw a hook punch at his neck. Besides the cold, the impact sent a heart‑piercing pain through me.

At that very moment, he didn't even glance; with his free right hand he flung it backward, launching an attack at me.

I raised my arm in time to block it, but the force still sent me flying. A numb ache spread up my hand, and at the same time I felt a cold seeping from my arm, creeping slowly through my whole body.

"Heh," as I was flung backward, Han Duo's attack followed—her whip lashed around his body, yet within ten seconds she met the same fate as I, being hurled hard onto the slope.

Unwilling to accept it, I struggled to my feet, traced a floral sigil, and blasted it straight at his shoulder. Perhaps the sigil carried power, for he finally showed a slight reaction,

Like a machine, or the sound of ice shattering, accompanied by a grating "ka‑cha, ka‑cha", his neck finally turned, and our eyes locked.

Instantly, my eyes widened in disbelief; I could hardly believe what I was seeing was real.