Chapter 87: A Touch of Brutality

Lu Zhongxin heard this and widened his eyes:

“Also dead?”

Yu Dazhang nodded, affirming:

“He was the first to die. I watched him take his last breath. The situation was urgent—I could only…”

“Enough, enough.” Lu Zhongxin waved his hand impatiently.

He didn’t want to listen to Yu Dazhang’s nonsense.

Earlier praising his disciple was just to spare him psychological burden.

Let me put it this way: killing always leaves psychological scars, especially the first time.

It has nothing to do with mental resilience.

Whether it’s a soldier on the battlefield, an accidental killing, or a deliberate one.

After the first kill, you feel nauseous, terrified, empty.

Even the hardest soldiers, who’ve killed hundreds on the battlefield, feel some guilt with every kill.

Are there people born as killers, who feel unbearable discomfort if they don’t kill one a day?

Yes.

But very few.

Such people suffer from psychological disorders—they’re outside the scope of normal humanity.

Lu Zhongxin knew several officers with killing experience.

According to them, they suffered insomnia for entire nights, waking up instantly even if they fell asleep.

For a long time afterward, they remained mentally dazed, unable to concentrate.

Without prompt psychological treatment, they could develop mental abnormalities—or even go insane.

Lu Zhongxin used to believe this completely, since it wasn’t just one person saying it.

But today he doubted it—those people must’ve exaggerated the aftereffects.

Insomnia?

Entire nights of insomnia?

His disciple’s eyes were barely open.

Look at him—he’d drop straight to sleep on the steps if you handed him a pillow right now.

Now he saw it: he himself had been overthinking.

Half an hour later.

Medical staff gradually climbed the mountain and carried two severely injured officers, including Zhang Sen, down on stretchers.

The man shot by Zhang Sen was still alive and was also taken away.

The house at the village entrance was horrific.

Bodies lay scattered across the courtyard; in the cellar lay a corpse with blood nearly drained.

What made the scene officers’ skin crawl was that among them were women, children, youths, and a middle-aged man over fifty.

Almost every gender and age group was represented.

It meant that to the killer, these people held no distinction—he treated them all equally.

Medical staff later confirmed: seven dead, three critically injured!

Aside from two youths and the boy, who still had vital signs, the other seven were all dead.

Detectives and doctors are the two professions most exposed to death.

One constantly visits crime scenes.

The other constantly rushes to rescue sites.

What gruesome scenes haven’t they seen?

Yet today, looking at these corpses, they still felt chilled to the bone.

Too horrific.

The entire courtyard reeked of thick, pungent blood, making people nauseous.

One hour later, the entire village was sealed off; the mountain road was fully cordoned off with a quarantine line.

Various excavation tools were transported up the mountain.

After interrogating villagers, they learned there were two designated sites on the mountain for disposing of bodies.

Because the time span was too long, no one could recall the exact details of either site.

If only a few had died, then at least a hundred people must’ve been sold from this village.

Meanwhile, the Fenglinzhen Police Station was also sealed off.

All officers inside were taken in for investigation; patrol officer Dong Bo was directly listed as the primary suspect in the trafficking case.

Even the town’s public security team wasn’t spared—the team leader was suspended pending investigation.

Yu Dazhang ate some food brought up by colleagues and drank a bottle of sweet water; his strength quickly returned.

He’d planned to stay and help on the mountain, but his Master ordered him down.

“Go back and think carefully about how to write your report—everything must be framed as self-defense under threat to life.” The hint was obvious; Yu Dazhang knew exactly what his Master meant.

The next day.

Yu Dazhang went to the hospital early to visit Zhang Sen.

To say he felt no anger over his partner’s actions would be a lie.

If Zhang Sen hadn’t acted on impulse and made that wrong decision, he wouldn’t have had to risk climbing the mountain.

But then again, Zhang Sen did something wrong—he wasn’t a bad person.

From a professional standpoint, his behavior was reckless and extreme, completely lacking the qualities expected of a qualified detective.

But emotionally, his courage to enter the lion’s den alone to save someone—how many men could match that?

People differ inherently; a hundred households raise a hundred kinds of people.

Some are calm, others impulsive—no profession can make everyone remain perfectly rational.

“Senior Zhang, why’s your leg still suspended?”

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Yu Dazhang sat beside the bed, his eyes filled with concern:

“Was the homemade gun really that powerful? Broke your leg clean?”

As he spoke, he lightly poked the suspended leg with his finger twice.

“Hey hey hey, don’t—” Zhang Sen quickly protested, trying to sit up, but Yu Dazhang pressed his shoulder down.

He lay back, avoiding Yu Dazhang’s gaze.

“Don’t be so reckless next time.”

Yu Dazhang straightened up, staring at Zhang Sen’s pale face:

“You won’t always be this lucky.”

The ward fell silent, save for their breathing—the air thick with suffocating tension.

After a long while, Zhang Sen slowly turned his head, fixing his eyes on Yu Dazhang:

“How’s my Master?”

His voice carried suppressed emotion, as if he’d used all his strength to utter those words.

“He’s alive.” Yu Dazhang smiled gently:

“He was lucky—the doctor said if he’d arrived two hours later, he wouldn’t have made it.”

Before entering the ward, he’d inquired about the other two officers’ conditions.

He’d also learned that the critically injured one was Zhang Sen’s Master.

Hearing his Master was safe, Zhang Sen finally relaxed.

“Thank you.”

A touch of color returned to his face, but then his chest felt as if a stone had settled inside.

“And… I’m sorry.”

Arriving at Team One, Yu Dazhang found most colleagues had returned.

Even Lu Zhongxin was back at the station.

Yu Dazhang walked over and asked:

“Master, what’s the situation?”

“The municipal bureau has taken over,” Lu Zhongxin replied.

“Our tech division went too—starting today, every forensic pathologist in Songhai City will be swamped!”

Why so many forensic pathologists… Yu Dazhang didn’t understand.

He had killed people—many, it seemed—but he wasn’t worried.

Not only had they found the people and the guns, but the victims he’d killed had homemade firearms—even the boy carried a dagger.

So his killing of the criminals was a necessary official act.

It was a bit brutal, but legal and necessary.

Based on his experience, the crime scene investigation should’ve ended yesterday—why send so many tech personnel now?

“New developments on the mountain?” Yu Dazhang asked his Master.

That was the only possibility he could think of.

Lu Zhongxin lowered his voice and said:

“According to Officer Wei, the city bureau organized an all-night excavation yesterday and has so far unearthed seventeen sets of remains.”

“This is just one pit—the bones are stacked layer upon layer.”

“The lowest layer has been dead the longest; preliminary forensic analysis at the scene suggests at least twenty years.”

Yu Dazhang calculated the time in his mind.

The group from 1990 settled on the mountain twenty-four years ago.

That means they came up the mountain specifically to commit crimes later.

Twenty-four years—they’ve killed this many people.

What about those sold off?

The number must be horrifying… Yu Dazhang dared not dwell on it.

He clenched his teeth and punched the desk beside him.

“These beasts!”

(End of Chapter)