Chapter 189: Serial Numbers

Two boats, four divers, searched the reservoir all day and indeed found four more body bags.

Because the body bags were smaller in volume and weight, they were scattered over a wider area, making them harder for the divers to retrieve.

But the real difficulty lay in the immense pressure and responsibility.

Leaders of the Qinghe City Bureau were repeatedly called to answer for the situation.

Naturally, they kept calling Miao Lan in the autopsy room.

By the time the four new body bags arrived, the previous four corpses in the autopsy room hadn't even finished boiling.

The forensic pathologists, upon seeing the four new small body bags, all wore grim expressions.

Several of them glanced at Jiang Yuan—this meant the crime had escalated and more remains were still out there.

Jiang Yuan, unable to avoid their stares, could only say: "Keep boiling. If more body bags come in later, don't expect to sleep."

Miao Lan sighed too, looking at the pathologists who had worked through the night, and said: "Let's take turns resting—some of you sleep first… uh… anyone volunteer to stay?"

"I'll stay," Jiang Yuan volunteered, having slept a few hours earlier while eating—he wasn't very tired.

Two other young pathologists and Niu Dong also chose to stay.

Miao Lan couldn't escape either, so she sent the others to rest while the four of them kept working.

After all, people rest but the pots don't stop.

Thinking of this, Miao Lan sighed again and said to the detective bringing in the body bags: "Please pass on a message—get two more pressure cookers delivered."

The detective, who had been keeping a stiff face, finally couldn't hold it—he bent over and vomited.

"Go vomit by the drain, not on the autopsy table—you can sleep here tonight," Niu Dong shouted, jumping up to match the detective's height.

The detective wasn't young—he was at least thirty, had been on the job for nearly a decade, had two kids, was on the verge of divorce, crushed by mortgage payments and soaring living costs, avoided reunions, had trouble with urinary dribbling, yet somehow managed to get by. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have thrown up.

But today's scene had been too overwhelming—visually, olfactorily, psychologically—it shattered the ten-year veteran's limits.

Vomiting…

The detective kept vomiting until he actually threw up.

Hot steam rose from the drain, carrying that smell that shouldn't be fragrant, then filtered through the detective's mind…

Vomiting…

Jiang Yuan and the others waved away the stench as Miao Lan urged: "Those going to rest—get out now. You've got eight hours, no more than ten—come back to relieve us."

Though there were twelve pathologists total, some were old, some slacked off.

Like Ye, the pathologist from Longli County—he'd come along but spent the whole time slacking and loafing, practically useless. Miao Lan had no authority to manage him.

The city bureau's pathologists weren't even higher in rank than those from other districts—they just had different work units.

Besides, this time, pathologists from all over were supporting the city bureau—they were here to help, and Miao Lan couldn't push them to exhaustion.

After a while, only a few remained in the autopsy room.

Everyone continued tending to the two pots boiling bones.

Why boil them so long?

Think of a crude but vivid analogy: during the New Year, how long does it take a whole family to boil half a pig?

Here, there were four corpses, all needing to be boiled until the bones came clean.

The ventilation fans worked furiously, their whirring unable to clear the stifling heat from the autopsy room.

Jiang Yuan opened another new body bag, took a DNA sample as usual, collected water samples, preserved some residual tissue, then renumbered the steel drum, examined each piece of remains, and repacked them.

There were no clues on the remains' surfaces, so once the previous batch finished boiling, they could simply dump the contents of the drum into the pot and keep boiling.

The autopsy room now used extra-large stainless steel drums capable of holding fifty catties—if they weren't bothered by the slow boiling, they could've just put them straight on the stove.

After examining two body bags, Jiang Yuan let out a long sigh when he opened the third.

"What's wrong?" Miao Lan looked over.

"Found three arms," Jiang Yuan said, shaking his head, then immediately opened the fourth body bag.

Indeed, body bags one, two, and four belonged to one person; body bag three belonged to another.

"Now the pressure's on the divers," one young pathologist, clearly broken by exhaustion, let out a bitter laugh: "If they don't find the last two body bags, they can't come up."

Jiang Yuan ignored him, pulled over another stainless steel drum, transferred the remains from body bags one, two, and four onto the autopsy table, and began attempting to reassemble them.

"Good—everything's here except the head," Niu Dong came over to help, wearing a "I knew it" expression: "A killer who scatters bodies far and buries them near wouldn't be surprised to separate the head."

Separating the head from the body was a common tactic in criminal investigations.

Since people generally believe the head is most likely to reveal identity, killers in dismemberment cases often handle the head separately—either discarding it farther away or hiding it elsewhere.

The combination of "scatter far, bury near" with "head far, body near" suggests the killer has little understanding of modern forensic methods—he's probably not someone who reads or gathers information.

More likely, he's an ordinary person who evolved into a killer step by step.

"Four plus two—that's six people," Jiang Yuan opened body bag three; it contained mostly upper limbs and torso—likely another male.

"I'll make a call," Miao Lan said, but didn't move immediately; after a moment's thought, she added: "Let's divide tasks."

Everyone looked at her.

"Let Jiang Yuan analyze the bones first—see if we can find any clues."

Miao Lan continued: "We all see the situation now—these corpses are probably not all of them. We need to find something fast—not necessarily to lock down the killer, but at least narrow the investigation. Otherwise, if rumors spread and public pressure builds, and the killer gets wind of it and flees early, it'll be a mess."

Miao Lan gestured for Jiang Yuan to begin: "Time is critical now. We can't let the killer get another chance to plan ahead, destroy evidence, or change his behavior…"

In short, finding some evidence and locking down some information before the killer hears the news benefits both solving the case and prosecution.

That was exactly what Miao Lan meant.

Niu Dong immediately understood, chuckled foolishly: "So you're saying our skills aren't as good as Jiang Yuan's—so Jiang Yuan takes over, and we keep being cooks…"

Miao Lan looked down at Niu Dong.

Niu Dong grinned awkwardly: "Just joking."

He hadn't even revealed his talent in forensic anthropology yet—if Miao Lan made him join in later, he'd be exposed.

The other two young pathologists had nothing to argue about—they knew only the basics of anthropology.

These days, there aren't enough forensic pathologists, but too many corpses; teaching cadavers are always in short supply. Relying solely on schools and training can't produce competent forensic anthropologists—you can only learn by watching and practicing on the job.

Like now—just keep watching.

Seeing Miao Lan had already backed him, Jiang Yuan stepped away from the boiling duty and returned to the autopsy table to study the bones.

Body #3 was a male, aged thirties, 1. 5 meters tall.

Body #4 was a female, aged forties, 1. 5 meters tall.

In summary, the first batch of four corpses yielded two middle-aged men and two middle-aged women—all of average height, average dental wear, and ordinary lifestyles.

The term "ordinary person" was precisely what forensic pathologists disliked most.

Especially forensic anthropology—its goal was to identify unusual individuals within unusual groups, so that even simple bone fragments could reveal identity.

The "unusual" here didn't mean extraordinary—it just meant different from the norm.

For example, if Body #1 had been twenty years old, had given birth, and was 170 cm tall, a hospital database search would likely have found her quickly.

Or if a woman over forty-five had never given birth, was 170 cm tall, and was investigated further—she'd likely be identified too.

Jiang Yuan flipped through the bones, examining them aimlessly.

Miao Lan stayed silent, working hard to boil the remains.

This was the dirtiest, most exhausting job—she, as the lead, felt uneasy if she avoided it for any reason.

On the other hand, Jiang Yuan had already demonstrated far superior forensic anthropology skills during the bone assembly—Miao Lan saw no need to interfere.

The autopsy room gradually fell quiet again.

Everyone worked with extreme fatigue.

Then, after kneeling over Body #3 for twenty or thirty minutes, Jiang Yuan spoke: "This body is unusual."

Miao Lan, as if wound up, immediately rushed over.

"He has axe marks here," Jiang Yuan pointed to the ribs on the back.

Miao Lan paused: "Is this the cause of death?"

Finding the victim's identity was important—but finding the cause of death would be good too.

Jiang Yuan shook his head: "No—it looks like all the ribs were chopped through with something like an axe, but the leg bones were cut with a saw."

"So he used both axe and saw?"

"Yes."

"Did he switch because the axe wasn't working?" Miao Lan came closer, examined the wedge-shaped cuts characteristic of an axe, her eyes brightening—this often meant the body was transitional.

But Jiang Yuan shook his head: "The saw usage is similar to the other bodies. The axe work is also skilled—no learning curve visible."

This was actually part of tool-mark analysis, which Jiang Yuan didn't know deeply—he could only give a general impression.

What was more striking was the level of skill.

No learning curve meant the killer was either a professional or had practiced on corpses before.

But such thrilling speculation couldn't be voiced recklessly—since the reservoir search was still ongoing, they'd wait for results.

Miao Lan understood, frowned: "He's got quite the toolkit."

"And needs a large space," Jiang Yuan said.

Still, these details were far from identifying the killer. Qinghe City had countless small factories—old industrial zones the government wanted to replace with high-tech plants never got them; instead, they were rented to local small workshops.

Outside the cities, rural towns also had their own small workshops—oil presses, honey bottling plants—those that had died twenty years ago had revived in recent years.

They were clearly dying again, yet people still dared to die inside them.

"Give me something more specific," Jiang Yuan brought the conversation back.

"Go ahead," Miao Lan nodded.

Jiang Yuan listed each point:

"Subject 1 had dental work—porcelain crowns; look into that."

"Subject 2 had a fracture in the right humerus; this definitely required hospital treatment."

"Subject 3, based on the lumbar vertebrae and leg bones, likely engaged in heavy physical labor."

"Subject 4 wore high heels regularly and had undergone orthodontic treatment."

Jiang Yuan gave each corpse as specific an investigative lead as possible.

Wang Lan exhaled in relief; with so much to go on, they would surely find the victims' identities. Maybe identifying one body would lead them to the killer.