Chapter 27

“You’re really going back to rest?” Wang Zhong watched Jiang Yuan packing up, feeling a very clear sense of frustration. He sometimes arrived late or left early, but he’d never been ordered to do so by his superior—and he was envious.

Jiang Yuan rubbed his shoulders and said firmly, “There’s nothing left to do here. The army cot is impossible to sleep on—I’m going back to catch up on sleep.”

Wang Zhong’s envy was so intense it felt like his nose, feet, and neck might snap. Everyone knew army cots were unbearable, everyone knew overtime and all-nighters ruined your health and shortened your life…

Wang Zhong sighed, “Chief Huang even offered you a dorm room, and you turned it down—dorm rooms are hard to get…”

Wu Jun interrupted Wang Zhong: “Jiang Yuan climbed up and down all day yesterday—he’s truly exhausted. The case is solved anyway; Jiang Yuan still has plenty to learn about investigation procedures—no need to rush.”

With the case solved and the suspect apprehended, what followed was the part detectives despised most: case documentation.

Investigation was extremely draining. If solving the case was like eating, then documentation was the entire process of cooking, washing dishes, and clearing the table.

Wu Jun himself didn’t like the documentation process either. His favorite part as a forensic expert was crime scene inspection, autopsies, and toxicology analyses—totaling no more than twenty hours of work. This time, things went smoothly, and little remained.

A few days ago, Wu Jun would have handed most of this work off to Jiang Yuan—after all, that’s why they hired new recruits.

But now, seeing how much the Criminal Investigation Team Captain valued Jiang Yuan, and how Jiang Yuan had voluntarily re-inspected the scene and achieved major breakthroughs, Wu Jun felt no need to treat Jiang Yuan like a workhorse.

Letting Jiang Yuan rest a bit before putting him back to work was also following Huang Qiang’s orders—sustainable development.

Wang Zhong really wanted to emphasize that he, too, had climbed up and down all day yesterday and was just as exhausted—even if he hadn’t produced tangible results, that was a matter of ability, not lack of effort…

Watching Jiang Yuan quickly pack and walk out the door, Wang Zhong could only call after him: “I’ll let you know when the interrogation yields results.”

“Got it.” Jiang Yuan waved his hand and vanished down the stairs.

The interrogation took far longer than Jiang Yuan expected.

It wasn’t until the afternoon of the next day, just as shift was ending, that the case update came.

Right before Jiang Yuan’s eyes, a task completion notification popped up:

Task Completed: Start from Scratch

Task Description: Re-inspect the Xue Ming crime scene to obtain clues and evidence.

Reward: One skill expansion.

Immediately after, four skill options appeared before Jiang Yuan.

1. Chongqing Single-Finger Fingerprint Analysis Method—Arch Pattern Identification (LV3)

2. Fried Rice with Egg (LV3)

3. Crime Scene Investigation (LV4)

4. Camping (LV2)

Jiang Yuan stared at option three for a long time, but ultimately chose the first: Chongqing Single-Finger Fingerprint Analysis Method—Arch Pattern Identification (LV3).

In an instant, the skill changed to Chongqing Single-Finger Fingerprint Analysis Method (LV3).

The removal of the “Arch Pattern” annotation meant all fingerprint types were now covered by his skill.

Jiang Yuan felt an unconscious sense of relief.

Knowing only arch pattern identification had been inconvenient in practice—that’s why he hadn’t expanded Crime Scene Investigation (LV4).

In his own assessment, Crime Scene Investigation LV4 was clearly more powerful than LV3; compared to his colleagues in the Forensic Unit, LV4 was noticeably superior—its ceiling might even exceed what an ordinary technician could achieve with maximum effort.

His confidence in re-inspecting the scene was built on this foundation.

In contrast, LV3’s improvement wasn’t as dramatic—it was roughly equivalent to a technician reaching peak performance through pure experience. Even at that level, Jiang Yuan found matching fingerprints far from easy; for example, during the “Highway Service Area Oil Theft Gang” case, he had abandoned two sets of fingerprint comparisons.

Of course, expanding Crime Scene Investigation (LV4) might have been the more cost-effective choice—upgrading to LV5 could bring a qualitative leap.

But the direct case-solving power of fingerprint analysis appealed to Jiang Yuan more.

On the other hand, crime scene investigation consumed more time and was more tied to current cases. From the broader perspective of maintaining social stability and upholding justice, he felt he could wait— as the system’s owner, Jiang Yuan believed his viewpoint should be elevated.

Knock knock.

Wang Zhong tapped on the door and slipped in, immediately saying, “Did you hear?”

“Go on,” Wu Jun said, as if he’d been waiting.

“Heh heh.” Wang Zhong grinned. “The murder weapon’s been recovered. Case is solid.”

“Really recovered it?” Jiang Yuan was surprised. Many of his family’s houses overlooked Taihe River—the current wasn’t fast, but the river was wide, and days had passed. Finding the weapon still? That exceeded his expectations.

Wang Zhong sneered. “We brought in divers and frogmen from out of town. Today they went to the scene, identified where the weapon was thrown, and searched on-site—still searching now. Cost more than Chief Huang’s car.”

Huang Qiang drove a retired Pajero issued by the unit.

Jiang Yuan clicked his tongue. This was just one part of one case—and they’d spent so much. Imagine the cost of a full homicide investigation.

With Ningtai County’s budget, a few more cases like this would bankrupt the police station.

“If they found the weapon, did the suspect fully confess?” Jiang Yuan asked. “They said his psychological resilience was terrible—I thought we’d wrap this up the same day.”

“You’re overestimating,” Wu Jun said. “This is a homicide—likely a death sentence. Every step must follow procedure. For example: suspects must be sent to detention, interrogation hours must be within limits, no nighttime interrogations, no threats…”

“So this actually went pretty fast,” Jiang Yuan began to understand.

“That’s about it—it wasn’t a professional criminal,” Wu Jun said, tapping his chopsticks. “I’ve handled many homicides. The more premeditated and prepared the criminal, the faster they confess. Because all their preparation stems from fear of getting caught.”

“That actually makes sense,” Jiang Yuan nodded, following Wu Jun’s logic, then asked Wang Zhong: “What was the motive?”

“This one’s interesting,” Wang Zhong said, already grinning. He chuckled for two seconds before becoming serious. “The killer is the prostitute’s fanboy.”

Wu Jun, over fifty, knew what a “fanboy” was, but still blurted: “Prostitutes have fanboys?”

“Surprised?” Wang Zhong ate two bites of rice, swallowed, then continued. “The suspect kept urging the prostitute to quit and go straight, but she always brushed him off and even scammed him out of red envelopes. He targeted the victim because the victim helped arrange clients—including that afternoon, when the prostitute delivered takeout to the provincial capital, which the victim arranged.”

“He charged 500 per service, and took 2000 for arranging one? He skimmed off?” Wu Jun asked.

Wang Zhong nodded. “He took 500 from each.”

Wu Jun laughed. “Free ride.”

“Exactly,” Wang Zhong shook his head. “When the suspect found out, he went to confront the victim, claiming he wanted to persuade her to stop. They argued. The victim spoke harshly—he lost control, pulled out a knife, and stabbed her once—deadly. Crazy, right?”

“Even crazier—he bathed at the crime scene after his first murder? What was he thinking?”

“He wanted to erase evidence. He’s a proper college graduate who stayed home studying for grad school, taking money from his parents to send red envelopes to prostitutes. He claims he didn’t know the victim—he just wanted to clean up the evidence. After leaving, he hid everywhere, hoping to escape punishment.”

Wu Jun had heard stranger stories, but he still shook his head, then added from another angle: “You know what? This case really is a stranger-perpetrated crime.”

Wang Zhong coughed twice and quickly whispered, “Chief Huang originally thought it was someone familiar…”

“You’re the one who nailed the theme,” Wu Jun glanced at Wang Zhong.

Wang Zhong grimaced.

“Regardless, if Xiao Jiang hadn’t re-inspected the scene, we might never have cracked it,” Wu Jun said with deep implication.

Wang Zhong blinked, then quickly added: “True. Stranger crimes are nearly impossible to solve without tearing off three layers of skin.”

When the killer and victim had no direct connection—or even any overlap—it qualified as a stranger crime. In short, the killer wasn’t part of the victim’s social network.

All grudges, loves, and vendettas stemmed from interpersonal relationships. Police solved cases most easily by tracing those networks.

Once a case broke free from those networks—whether for money, impulse, or any other reason—the difficulty skyrocketed. That’s why serial killings were so frustrating: without witnesses or direct evidence, solving or convicting became immensely hard.

For the Ningtai County Criminal Investigation Team, any case tagged “stranger” was a headache—homicides even more so.

“Xiao Jiang’s got something,” Wu Jun said, deeply moved. Suddenly, his dream of a life no longer hauling corpses felt closer—and yet, somehow, farther away.