Chapter 375: Harvest

Noon.

Lunchtime.

One food cart carrying eight dishes, accompanied by eight snack carts. The food cart was borrowed from the police bureau; the dishes and rice were prepared by the bureau's cafeteria chef. The snack carts were invited guests, run by vendors from the night market, paid for by the police bureau—specifically, Xu Taining had arranged the payment to bring them to the search site. Officers had to pay normally for the snacks, making it extra income for the vendors.

Of course, introductions from familiar community police officers and auxiliary officers also played a major role.

Along the 110-kilometer stretch, there were five such groups of food and snack carts in total. Each group served roughly 200 officers, plus subsequent reinforcements of civil servants and certain units' "volunteers."

At a meal standard of 20 yuan per person, this single meal cost the bureau over 20,000 yuan for over a thousand people. The forty police dogs averaged 50 yuan each, totaling 2,000 yuan.

Of course, this expense pales in comparison to the rental fees for the buses, engineering vehicles, and pickup trucks hired for transportation, or the fuel costs for the bureau's own hundred-plus cars. Hidden labor costs weren't even counted.

Overall, the leadership of the Luyang Municipal Public Security Bureau remained relatively calm.

Spending money could be worried about later; at least, the primary task now was solving the case. As long as the investigation made progress and Case 805 showed hope of resolution, the expenditures were understandable.

This was actually better than the past two years—spending heavily and getting nothing versus spending heavily and gaining something.

Jiang Yuan drove directly to the Luyang Municipal Forensic Autopsy Room.

Who could have imagined that such a modest Luyang bureau had built a standalone forensic autopsy room? Though still inside the funeral home, it was at least a separate building with its own morgue and refrigerated caskets.

"Your Luyang conditions are really good," Jiang Yuan said, helping lift the body onto the cart as he walked and looked around.

It was a two-story building plus a basement—small in appearance, but this scale could handle three to five murder cases per day, equivalent to the level of mid-to-large American cities, very much in line with international standards.

Mei Fang smiled and said, "It was built only a few years ago. We caught the wave."

Jiang Yuan said, "Luyang's economy seems average, and homicides don't seem too frequent—how did your bureau afford this?"

"Because several cold cases were occupying refrigerated caskets, and we owed the funeral home too much money we couldn't pay, so we had to build our own," Mei Fang said, his eyes sincere.

Jiang Yuan paused: "You couldn't pay the funeral home, but you had money to build a building?"

"Because you can get a bank loan to build it."

Mei Fang glanced at the young Jiang Yuan: "The loan will be paid off by the next administration."

Jiang Yuan looked down at the body: "Besides these few, everyone else would call it flawless planning."

Mei Fang chuckled, then realized it was inappropriate and suppressed his smile: "As long as you can bring justice to these few, whatever you say, the leadership will smile and say 'well done.' You don't even need to go this far—just identifying these individuals will make them willing to smile along with you."

"Actually, the difference isn't that big," Jiang Yuan said, following Mei Fang, pushing the cart into the autopsy room, stacking the body bags onto an empty autopsy table, then going back for the next one.

Mei Fang clicked his tongue: "Still, Senior Jiang, you're confident."

"Not confidence—it's the hardest part we've already passed. For a killer who dumps bodies, if you find where he buried them, especially multiple bodies, then once you trace their origins, the case is nearly solved." Jiang Yuan answered with experience and certainty.

Similar cases are notoriously hard to solve, yet precisely because they're hard, they become cold cases. Jiang Yuan has likely handled more of these than an ordinary officer does in a lifetime, accumulating vast experience.

In fact, killers who dump bodies usually do so because the bodies can be linked to them. But sometimes these links are hidden, hard to detect, or overlooked by police. Yet as the number of bodies grows, the connections inevitably emerge.

After transporting two carts, all the bodies and their insect companions were finally brought inside.

The insects were placed in a room next to the autopsy suite; specialized forensic entomologists would handle them later. Jiang Yuan's limited forensic entomology knowledge—maxed at Lv6—could only determine time of death; he lacked the broader skill set required for the field.

But with his Lv6 skill in time-of-death determination, Lv3 in forensic clinical medicine, Lv4 in forensic pathology, and Lv4 in forensic physical evidence, Jiang Yuan believed the third and fourth bodies should yield ample information.

Mu Zhiyang and another young detective were strongly requested to join today's autopsy.

Mei Fang had no assistant; all the grunt work in the autopsy room fell to him alone—even working late into the night, he was alone in the two-story building, surrounded by corpses. Other professions might be poor but full of spirit; forensic officers, when poor, become peculiarly neurotic.

The third and fourth bodies were placed on separate autopsy tables.

The left table held the third body: mostly a thigh and most of the pelvis. The right table held the fourth body: a torso split in half, including most of the neck and viscera like mud.

Buckets filled with decayed flesh and rotting organs were placed at the foot of the tables; when Mei Fang emptied them, everyone's eyes filled with tears.

Sometimes, certain things simply make you cry.

"Do you still want the eggs and pupae?" Mei Fang's voice, muffled by his mask, seemed to stir the stench.

Mu Zhiyang felt he was drowning in a sea of liquefied odor. Hearing Mei Fang's question, he glanced again at the muddy decay and vomited without hesitation.

The young detective brought in with them, who had been holding it in, now couldn't hold back either—he didn't even remove his mask before vomiting onto it.

"The restroom is inside—vomit into the sink, it's easier to clean… vomiting outside is fine too, just rinse with water…" Mei Fang wasn't surprised. At this stage, the bodies were most likely to trigger vomiting—especially since the heads weren't attached. Otherwise, the bulging, discolored eyeballs and swollen, disfigured faces would have made ordinary officers vomit bile before even entering the autopsy room.

Jiang Yuan handled the bodies himself, not glancing once at the two men in the restroom.

Once you start vomiting, you must vomit until you're part of the environment. Any words or actions in between are useless.

"The third body's time of death is roughly fifteen months. There's bone proliferation at the ankle, and the remaining ligaments look abnormal—likely chronic injury. She must have seen a doctor; check hospital records." Jiang Yuan quickly examined the body, then opened a previous case file he'd worked on—where victim identity was confirmed via X-rays of fractures. But that process was too slow and probabilistic; Jiang Yuan wouldn't use it unless the difficulty coefficient was under Lv5.

The time of death for No. 3 was approximately fifteen months ago; there was bone overgrowth on the ankle, and the remaining ligaments looked abnormal—likely due to chronic injury. She definitely saw a doctor; check hospital records. Jiang Yuan briefly examined the body, then opened a previous case file he had worked on, where victim identity was confirmed through X-rays of fractures. But that process was too slow and probabilistic; he wouldn't use it again unless the difficulty coefficient exceeded level 5.

Now, Jiang Yuan and Liu Jinghui, using technique, wisdom, and boldness—and mostly other people's money—had forcibly reduced the case's difficulty.

Just adding a quarter-body from fifteen months ago, complete with pelvis, already yielded immense information. The half-body was still unexamined, but Jiang Yuan was already brimming with anticipation.

Mei Fang took a little extra time, acting like a proper autopsy assistant, preparing instruments and donning full gear before stepping forward to examine the bones Jiang Yuan had arranged, especially the ankle. He nodded: "With this ankle condition, she likely couldn't walk normally for a period. Colleagues or acquaintances might have noticed."

"Right. Combined with earlier estimates—age 30, height 168 cm, weight 110 kg—other details remain unclear." Jiang Yuan remeasured the dimensions on the autopsy table to confirm his earlier judgment, then added: "First, cross-reference with missing persons reports. If multiple matches appear, we'll eliminate them one by one."

Jiang Yuan and Mei Fang spoke in low tones.

The vomiting sounds from the restroom gradually faded.

They heard Mu Zhiyang turn on the faucet, rinsing as he muttered: "What the hell did you just vomit? Why's it still got tendons attached?" The young officer, mid-vomit, paused, confused, looked up, then said: "Tendons and bits."

"Really that many tendons? Didn't you chew properly?"

Mu Zhiyang turned on the faucet, rinsing as he muttered, "What is this you threw up? Still connected by tendons?" The young officer, still gagging, paused his spell, looked up dazedly, and replied, "Tendons and stuff." "Really that many tendons? You didn't chew properly."

"Spicy? I like spicy. Which stall?"

"Near the city center, beside the square—wait, why are you asking this suddenly…?" The young officer couldn't hold back and vomited again.

"You're deliberately causing chaos. I'll go help outside. When you're done vomiting, come out yourself." Mu Zhiyang wiped his mouth and stepped out of the restroom, now filled with vomit and tendons.

"You're deliberately causing trouble—I'll go out and help first. When you're done throwing up, come out on your own." Mu Zhiyang wiped his mouth and stepped out of the bathroom, littered with vomit.