02 Left Eye

A distress text message immediately shook off all my drowsiness. Although various doubts made it difficult for me to determine the true nature of the message at first—it could either be a genuine major crime or merely a cruel prank—as a police officer, responding to the call was my primary instinct.

I quickly washed up to make myself look more alert and got dressed.

Living in the police dormitory has its perks; these rooms are specifically designated so that officers can respond to major cases at a moment's notice, equipped for basic daily living. My room was even better since I was a permanent resident; it had been specially renovated. Though the sparrow is small, it has all the vital organs.

Once ready, I decided not to notify Jin Ze. After all, I was now a full-fledged police officer, no longer just tagging along behind Jin Ze, and I had no desire to live under his protective wing. Besides, ordinary cases did not fall under the jurisdiction of Jin Ze's Cold Case Unit, which exclusively dealt with major, perverted, or supernatural crimes.

Yet, I did not act entirely alone either. A distress text sent directly to my personal phone could very well be a trap. Therefore, I woke up another criminal investigator who also lived in the dormitory—a young officer named Zhang Ling, who had recently been transferred to the provincial bureau. Zhang Ling was a bit overweight and easygoing, a natural extrovert. Though we weren't particularly close, just ordinary colleagues, asking him to back me up seemed entirely safe.

True to form, the chubby guy agreed immediately, and out we went. I chose not to call Miao Miao yet, planning to contact her for forensic examination only after confirming there was an actual crime scene.

Soon, we arrived at the Yellow Sea Gardens mentioned in the text message. It was a relatively upscale residential complex—not quite a millionaire's enclave, but certainly beyond the reach of ordinary people. Many white-collar professionals lived here, and naturally, it was also a prime spot for keeping mistresses. Such places had historically been breeding grounds for crime, which was another reason I chose to respond immediately: better safe than sorry.

The fat guy and I quickly reached room 404. He immediately stepped forward and knocked, but there was no response for over ten seconds. I knocked harder a few times, still receiving no reply, which made me realize something might genuinely be wrong.

Naturally, Zhang Ling possessed the caution required of a provincial criminal investigator. He had already pressed his eye against the peephole to peer inside.

After looking through the peephole for a moment, Zhang Ling suddenly stiffened and jerked his head back.

Yet, a moment later, he leaned back in slightly, keeping a small distance from the peephole to continue observing. After just two seconds, he instantly grabbed the service pistol at his waist and whispered to me, "Chen Mu, there's someone inside. I saw a shadow flitting past."

Hearing this made my heart leap to my throat. Could that shadow be the killer? Had the perpetrator failed to escape in time? Otherwise, wouldn't a normal person at least ask who was knocking and open the door?

Breaking the door down, however, presented a problem. Lacking a key, we certainly couldn't just shoot the lock—doing so in the middle of the night would disturb the neighbors, and if it turned out to be a false alarm, we would face disciplinary action. Yet, failing to enter immediately might allow the suspect to escape through a window or similar exit.

As it turned out, Zhang Ling was more capable than I expected. He produced a piece of thin wire, fumbled with the door lock for a moment while listening intently, then slipped a magnetic card through the door latch. With a sharp shove and a sudden bash of his shoulder, he actually managed to force the heavy door open.

We rushed in immediately after breaking the door down, but there was no sign of anyone.

Perhaps the person had hidden elsewhere. Just as we prepared to conduct a thorough search, I suddenly noticed a few strands of hair stuck to the inner side of the peephole, swaying gently in the faint draft.

That instantly made everything clear. I turned to Zhang Ling and said, "Fatty, that shadow you saw earlier must have been these hairs, right?"

Realization dawned on Zhang Ling when he saw the hair. He chuckled sheepishly and agreed, noting that the view through a peephole from the outside is never entirely clear, and if a breeze causes the hair to sway, it indeed creates the illusion of someone walking by.

Although we temporarily concluded that no one was hiding inside, my heart remained gripped by a creeping unease. Something was definitely wrong here. If a homicide had truly taken place, the killer was undoubtedly a recidivist who enjoyed playing psychological warfare with the police. To be targeted by such a criminal right after joining the bureau meant my luck was rather abysmal.

I had no time for further contemplation and rushed toward the bedroom. The bedroom door was half-open. The moment I stepped inside, I saw a woman lying on the bed, and a single glance told me a tragedy had occurred.

Her trousers were pulled down below her knees, her blouse shoved up over her breasts, and her hair was disheveled—unmistakable signs of violation.

Since we were not professional forensic pathologists, we refrained from disturbing the scene. I immediately called Miao Miao to come and investigate the crime scene, and simultaneously dialed the emergency medical services, just in case life had not completely faded away.

I then stepped closer to the bed and observed her again without touching the corpse. After all, I had been studying trace evidence quite diligently lately.

She was a young woman with fair skin, a voluptuous figure, and alluring curves—the kind of appearance that easily stirs a man's desire for conquest.

There were no other wounds on her body, save for a severe injury to her left eye.

Her left eye had been gouged out. Although the blood on her cheeks and around the eye socket had been wiped away, a considerable amount of blood remained pooled inside the hollow orbit. It was evident she had not been born with a single eye; the eyeball had been excised quite recently.

This perverted act immediately provided a potential clue to the case. If it were merely a straightforward sexual assault, the perpetrator would not have inflicted such a horrific and bizarre mutilation upon the victim. My preliminary deduction was that the killer and the victim knew each other, possibly harboring financial or romantic grievances, making it a retaliatory sexually motivated homicide. Therefore, once the victim's background was verified and her social network investigated, solving this case should proceed rapidly.

Miao Miao arrived shortly. The cold and aloof goddess was as professional as ever, donning her face mask and white gloves. She immediately checked the woman's pulse and breathing, confirming that she was indeed dead, with the time of death estimated to be between half an hour and an hour ago.

She then proceeded to photograph the scene. Afterward, without the slightest hesitation, she parted the woman's legs, drew an instrument from her portable toolbox, and examined the victim's lower body, presumably searching for traces left behind by the assailant.

Suddenly, I noticed Miao Miao frown slightly, and I quickly asked what was wrong.

Having been transferred from X City together, we had crossed paths on numerous occasions in the past, and I had even saved her life. Despite her cold demeanor, she was willing to speak to me.

Miao Miao looked directly at me and said, "The deceased was indeed sexually assaulted before her death, but after examining her just now, I found that she..."

At that point, Miao Miao abruptly stopped, leaving her sentence hanging.

I pressed her for details, but she replied that she couldn't be certain yet and needed to return for a professional autopsy to reach a definitive conclusion. Consequently, I dropped the questioning.

Right at that moment, Zhang Ling suddenly let out a shrill scream.

Suspiciously, I turned my head toward him, only to see him pointing frantically at the dead woman's eyes.

When I looked, I was startled as well. The sole remaining eye of the deceased, which had been tightly shut earlier, was now wide open—staring straight at me with an eerie intensity.

Unable to help myself, I took a step back and asked Miao Miao what was happening, wondering if the woman might still be alive.

Miao Miao explained that while rare, such occurrences were scientifically plausible, usually the result of post-mortem nerve reflexes.

Soon, the ambulance arrived. As expected, the paramedics confirmed Miao Miao's assessment: the woman was dead.

The corpse was then transported back to the police station to facilitate Miao Miao's autopsy, while Zhang Ling and I headed back as well.

This was the first case I had undertaken during my internship at the provincial bureau, so I attached immense importance to it. I decided to forgo sleep tonight, intending to uncover the victim's identity and social connections by dawn to crack the case as quickly as possible. Since the distress text had been sent directly to me, I suspected this case might hide crucial clues pointing right back to my own past.

I returned to my dormitory to use the restroom, splashed some cold water on my face to wake myself up, and prepared to get to work.

However, as I washed my face with the freezing water, I noticed it wasn't draining properly, as if the pipes were clogged.

Subconsciously, I glanced down at the basin's drain. One look nearly frightened my soul out of my body, leaving me utterly terrified and covered in goosebumps.

Lodged right inside the drain was a single eyeball, facing upward. It stared directly at me, as though someone was hiding inside the plumbing, watching me in secret.

I drew in a sharp breath, staggered backward, and instantly recalled the dead woman whose eye had snapped open earlier.

Could this eyeball be none other than the left eye gouged out from the corpse's socket?