The massive black cat ignored him and jumped down, hitting the ground with the force of a thunderbolt. Wiggling his butt directly at Zhao Yunlan, he prowled on ahead, radiating majesty and confidence.
Quite a few police cars were already parked on the other side of the road. Caution tape had been slapped across the entrance of a narrow alley.
Rummaging in his pocket, Zhao Yunlan finally found a tattered work ID. The young officer by the caution tape had his back to the crime scene, looking green around the gills. He took the ID and barely glanced at it before shoving it against Zhao Yunlan’s chest and making a dash for the wall. He leaned against it and threw up, unable to bear it anymore.
Zhao Yunlan grasped at his bird’s-nest hair, which looked like a horde of animals had stampeded through it. “Is my beautiful ID photo that revolting?”
The black cat had gone a few steps ahead. Seeing Zhao Yunlan dilly-dallying, he had to turn back, giving him a long meow. His fur stood on end.
“Okay, okay, okay, don’t rush me. Aiya, this smell could kill you from ten paces.” Zhao Yunlan ducked under the caution tape.
As soon as he was on the other side, someone hurried over to greet them. Voice muffled by the tissue clamped over his nose, he asked, “Are you the comrade from the Special Investigations Department?”
Within the Public Security System was a mysterious department called the Special Investigations Department. It was no low-level division, but no one knew exactly what those people did or what their procedures were. The simple fact was, whenever someone from the Special Investigations Department showed up, it meant the order had come directly from above and there was no room for argument.
But if they didn’t come, there was no way to find them.
They were within the Public Security System, but in many ways independent from it. The organization was very secretive, with no transparency as to what they did or why. Without special permission, the media couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the SID, never mind get close enough to interview them. No one knew what their criminal procedures were or how they built their indictments. The only thing that was clear was that once a case was handed to them, it vanished into a black box.
Nothing was shared with the public but the case’s conclusion, shrouded in mystery—and sometimes the staff of the SID were even more mysterious than the work they did.
Their case reports were comprehensive, detailing the cause, the course of events, the conclusion, the suspect’s identity, and the circumstances that led to apprehending the perpetrators. Every step they’d taken was plainly laid out with meticulous logic and clear formatting. There was no fault to be found.
The only problem was that by the time any given case was closed, the culprits were all dead.
The officer in charge at this particular crime scene was an older man by the name of Yang. He shook Zhao Yunlan’s hand, curiously looking him up and down. “What do I call you?” he asked politely.
“My name’s Zhao—Zhao Yunlan. Please, just call me xiao-Zhao.”
This was a shock for lao-Yang, who had certainly not expected the current SID director to make an appearance. Director Zhao looked to be about thirty years old, which was a little young for the job. He was tall, lean, and very good looking. But his shirt was wrinkled, its top two buttons undone and only half of the hem tucked into his pants. Between that and the veritable bird’s nest on his head, he was rather unkempt.
Lao-Yang exclaimed, “Aiyou! You’re Director Zhao! Wh-why, I should have realized. I just didn’t expect such a young, promising leader!”
Zhao Yunlan, accustomed to this reaction, smoothly offered a few pleasantries in return.
At the sound of a “meow,” lao-Yang looked down, barely in time to see a dark shadow race up to Zhao Yunlan’s shoulders via his pant leg. It was a black cat with deep green eyes. A green-eyed black cat materializing at a murder scene should have been extremely creepy, but this potentially creepy cat bro was so plump that he seemed more like a lucky cat beckoning fortune in.
The overall effect was that Director Zhao’s head seemed on the verge of being pushed off his shoulders, which gave the cat a bit of a comical air.
Lao-Yang and the cat stared at each other for some time. “This… This is…”
Zhao Yunlan awkwardly hiked up his pants, which had nearly been dragged down by the cat’s weight. Tilting his head, he laughed dryly. “This is our Director Kitty. Ordinarily, he supervises our work very closely, and since he saw us goofing off and chatting, he’s unhappy now.”
“…”
Lao-Yang was at a loss.
The black cat meowed smugly, his long tail swishing impatiently. When he lifted his head, Zhao Yunlan immediately understood. He grasped a little tag from around the cat’s neck and worked it free from the rolls of fat to show lao-Yang. “This is a special permit from the SID. It’s exactly like our work ID, giving him access to any crime scene. Don’t worry, he’s an old cat. He won’t cause any trouble.”
Still silent, lao-Yang was starting to think there was bullshit afoot.
After lao-Yang made a round of calls confirming that the man with the bird’s-nest head and the cat weren’t frauds, Zhao Yunlan and his master cat finally entered the crime scene.
The closer they got, the thicker the stench became.
A girl’s corpse lay inside the narrow alley, wearing a shirt that said “Dragon City University Orientation.” Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her limbs were splayed out, and her mouth was agape. Her abdomen had been sliced open by a sharp implement and the organs had been removed, leaving her like a big doll with its stuffing pulled out.
Lao-Yang had the tissue back over his nose, his features twisted.
The fat cat on Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder uttered a long yowl, jumped to the ground, and circled the corpse twice. He then stopped at a spot and sat, looking up at Zhao Yunlan. He seemed almost as well trained as a drug dog. Zhao Yunlan walked over, putting on wrinkled gloves pulled from his pants pocket. He felt around the area where the cat sat, then carefully lifted one of the corpse’s arms.
Lao-Yang craned his neck. On the ground, where it had been hidden by the arm, was half a bloody handprint.
The handprint was starkly inhuman. The palm was as small as a child’s, but the fingers were at least twenty centimeters long. Lao-Yang, a lifelong officer, had never seen such a thing. As he stared in shock, he heard Zhao Yunlan say in an unusually serious voice, “As of now, the Special Investigations Department is taking charge of this case. Follow-up procedures will be completed within two business days.”
Before lao-Yang could answer, Zhao Yunlan pointed at a small, dilapidated door on the wall next to them. “And what might this be?”