Chapter 209: Black Hood

In a rental room of less than six square meters, the man opened a bottle of Red Bull and tilted his head back to drink it dry.

The room had no lights on; outside the window, moonlight filtered into the room, faintly illuminating the mosquito net.

The man wiped the sweet liquid from the corners of his mouth and opened his battered laptop. The blue light of the screen flickered to life, and the mouse cursor clicked on a webpage. The page displayed only a single sentence: "Sorry, the work you are trying to view has been taken down."

Far from being disappointed, he grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth. He then double-clicked the mouse rapidly, created a new blank document, and typed four characters: "Chapter One Hundred."

The moment he pressed the Enter key, the door behind him was knocked on: "Thump, thump, thump."

His hand paused. He did not get up, intending to continue writing as if nothing had happened.

"Thump, thump, thump." The knocking continued—three more raps—then stopped.

Impatiently, he tossed the empty can into a bowl of instant noodles that still contained leftover broth. He stood up abruptly, turned, and opened the door in two strides: "I told you, I'll pay the rent once I get my royalties!" As he spoke, he looked up, but standing before him was not the short, stout landlady.

He lived in a small, single-story house on the edge of the village, where there wasn't even a streetlamp.

The person in front of him wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, standing there without saying a word.

"Who are you?" the man asked. Even though he couldn't see the person's face clearly, he was certain he didn't know them.

However, the moment the words left his lips, his expression changed.

At first, he thought something had snagged his lower abdomen. Then, accompanied by a wet, tearing sound like a knife slicing through a melon, something was pulled out of his gut.

Only then did the searing pain hit, growing increasingly intense, instantly sweeping through his entire body.

When he saw the sharp knife the person held, dripping with viscous blood in the moonlight, he realized with terror that he had been stabbed.

He was about to scream, but a second stab hit his neck. The instantly gushing blood turned all his cries for help into "click," "click" throat sounds, muffled by the cries of cats and dogs in the countryside—no one would ever care.

In front of him, excited breathing came from within the black hood as the person watched the man lose the strength in his legs and collapse onto the cheap floor tiles.

The man did not die immediately; he simply lay on the ground, twitching in vain.

The person crouched down unhurriedly and, as if to make sure he saw clearly, pulled back their hood.

By the moonlight, the man saw the person's vague silhouette. His eyes were filled with a mixture of despair and confusion.

"You've never seen me before," the person finally spoke. Even this voice was one he had never heard.

He used his last ounce of strength to struggle, turning over to crawl back into the rental room, but the person didn't give him the chance. Another stab plunged deep into his right shoulder.

He instantly went limp like a deflated balloon, sprawling in a pool of blood like a pile of mud. With salty, fishy blood surging in his throat, he squeezed out three garbled words: "Why?"

"Didn't you summon me here?" The person raised the knife and brought it down, ruthlessly stabbing his left shoulder. A "click" sound reached his ears—the sound of a joint shattering.

The fear of death now far outweighed the pain, yet he still didn't understand. Unable to speak anymore, he widened his eyes, staring at this strange face. The blue light from the laptop screen made the person look like a messenger from hell.

"Oh, time is running out." The voice was indifferent, tinged with mockery. "I'm just fulfilling your wish, proving that I am human, not an AI. Do you like this sincerity?" The strange tone, contradictory yet fused with calmness and obsequiousness, sounded exactly like an AI voice service. The hand in the black rubber glove suddenly grabbed the man's right index finger and toyed with it. "This is the finger that clicked that report button, right?"

As they spoke, with a "crack," the finger snapped. In the man's despairing gaze, the person tossed the finger out the window. Soon, the sound of two dogs fighting over food came from outside—his index finger had been eaten by the village dogs.

The person's voice, rational as a machine, continued: "The internet always gives people an illusion, making them think it's a virtual world completely parallel to reality.

Hmm~~~ is there a possibility that this 'virtual' nature is just because most people are too lazy to move things that can be solved with a mouse and keyboard into reality?

A message sent in a second—to them, communicating face-to-face with such sincerity as we are doing is too much trouble.

But I felt your sincerity.

You were so desperate to know whether I was a human or an AI; I consider this a compliment to me.

I understand well that on the internet, people can question everything but prove nothing. The outcome seems destined the moment it begins; the one who initiates the questioning wins. Because once the questioned party starts to prove themselves, it becomes a bottomless black hole. Ha, that solves nothing. I don't like that.

So, I overcame my human laziness and decided to solve it with action.

I don't like proving things, but I like solving problems—that sense of stability when things are settled.

Hmm~~~ now it's settled. I'm happy." They took a slight breath of the blood-scented air; even this "I'm happy" was faint.

"The case in Yingjiangbei?" Wu Shanqiu muttered after receiving the news.

"What? Are you being picky about cases now?" Qi Fei raised an eyebrow and laughed.

"No, no, no." Wu Shanqiu hurriedly denied it. "The folkways in Yingjiangbei are 'simple and honest.' I just have lingering fears. The difficulty of the investigation later won't be small."

Qi Fei understood what Wu Shanqiu meant. Yingjiangbei was far from the downtown area of Nancheng. The original inhabitants had passed down their own ways of doing things for generations. According to veteran police officers, one had to bring extra people when handling cases there; if a disagreement arose, they might just start a fight.

The car crossed the bridge over the Ying River and headed north. As soon as they reached Jiangbei, they could clearly see a scene different from the prosperous downtown area of Nancheng.

This was the most chaotic and dilapidated place, caught between the city and the countryside.

Sure enough, when the police car stopped by the roadside covered in construction waste, the young people playing pool at the entrance of the village grabbed their battered cues and looked at them with faces full of hooliganism.

This place did not welcome people in uniforms.

The two of them walked through the village road piled with all kinds of debris, heading toward the very edge of the northwest corner.

Finally, a dilapidated single-story house appeared before them. The door faced north, toward the wasteland at the edge of the village.

No matter the local customs, rubbernecking seemed to be a universally shared hobby. This small, broken house, which had previously gone unnoticed, was now surrounded by people.

Local police officers were struggling to maintain order.

Qi Fei and Wu Shanqiu crossed the police line and finally saw the deceased... ===== CHAPTER 210 =====