64 Shadow

When I saw Kong Wei suddenly drop to his knees with a thud, begging me not to kill him, I was stunned. My first thought wasn’t why he was pleading for his life, but rather what kind of trick he was playing—was he approaching me on purpose, planning to harm me? Instinctively, I took a step back and saw that he was still kneeling there, looking genuinely terrified. It seemed his fear was real.

This piqued my curiosity. I thought to myself, “When did I ever want to kill you? Isn’t that a barefaced lie? Apart from running into you once at the mastiff yard, I don’t even remember you.”

Jin Ze quickly spoke up, “Kong Wei, what’s going on? Are you on the run because you’re afraid of punishment? We’ve already searched your house and discovered your secret. If you confess honestly, I can still give you a chance to atone for your crimes and make a fresh start.”

Upon hearing this, Kong Wei turned nervously to Jin Ze and asked, “My treasures—where are my treasures? Did you see them? You didn’t do anything to them, did you?”

At first, I didn’t understand what he meant by “treasures,” but then it dawned on me: he was referring to those eyes embedded in the wall. Sure enough, this guy was a genuine pervert.

Jin Ze replied bluntly, “The eyes have been sealed as evidence by the police. If you cooperate, I can let you see them again.”

A glimmer of hope flashed in Kong Wei’s eyes, but soon he began kowtowing to me again, mumbling as he knocked his head on the ground, “Brother Chen, please spare me. I don’t want to die.”

Jin Ze glanced at me. I met his gaze and signaled that I knew nothing. Jin Ze then reached out, hauled Kong Wei to his feet, and said, “I can answer for Chen Mu. As long as you cooperate with my questions, Chen Mu won’t do anything to you.”

Kong Wei’s face lit up, but he still looked to me for confirmation. I nodded, letting him know Jin Ze could speak for me, and only then did he get up.

Once standing, Kong Wei said to Jin Ze, “Go ahead, ask whatever you want. I’ll answer whatever I can.”

Jin Ze questioned, “Why didn’t you go to work today? Why did you run? What are you afraid of?”

Kong Wei replied, “Because I knew your Cold Case Unit found the latest evidence last night—the eyeballs with numbered tags. I know those very well. They’re my treasures. Once they were discovered, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was exposed. That’s why I tried to run.”

Jin Ze pressed on, “Why do you have such a fixation with eyeballs? What do they mean to you?”

Kong Wei’s answer was much as Jin Ze had guessed. He used to be a normal person, but about half a year ago, he’d worked on a case involving a boy whose eyes had been gouged out. The moment he saw those bright eyes plucked from the boy’s face, it was as if his soul had left his body. From that day on, he developed a psychological aversion to eyes. At night, he suffered nightmares, often waking in terror from visions of staring, naked eyeballs. Eventually, he became afraid to sleep at all, his mental state deteriorated, and he nearly became depressed enough to quit his job.

Just as he was about to break, a “savior” contacted him, telling him that the only way to cure himself was to fight fire with fire: put eyeballs in his bedroom so they would “watch” him as he slept, and gradually the illness would go away.

Desperate, Kong Wei tried it. Of course, he wouldn’t kill anyone for their eyes; instead, he bought a dog’s head at the market and stuck the dog’s eyes on the wall opposite his bed. Strangely enough, that night he managed to fall asleep. Though he still had nightmares, they weren’t as severe. Little by little, he became dependent on eyes. As his dependence grew, two eyes were no longer enough, so he bought more dog eyes. But eventually, even dog eyes stopped working—he felt only real human eyes could save him. Only when human eyes stared at him could he sleep in peace.

At this point, the person who had originally given him this method contacted him again, offering to supply him with fresh human eyes, but in return, Kong Wei had to do him a favor. It wasn’t much: just inform him about any bizarre or gruesome major cases at the police station. Whenever there was a strange homicide, Kong Wei was to notify the man, swapping news for a fresh supply of eyes.

That man was Scarface. Which meant Kong Wei hadn’t killed anyone—the eyes were sent to him by Scarface, sometimes human, sometimes canine. No wonder his collection was such a mix.

I didn’t think Kong Wei was lying; my gut told me it was the truth.

Jin Ze told him, “You’re psychologically ill. Scarface has been hypnotizing you, planting suggestions, leading you into this state.”

Kong Wei shook his head like a madman, insisting, “No, he saved me. If not for the eyes he gave me, I’d be dead by now.”

Kong Wei was truly obsessed, lost in his delusion. Once the mind cracks, it really is terrifying.

Jin Ze didn’t press that point further, but continued, “Why does Scarface want you to report on those twisted cases? Did he ask you to do anything else?”

Kong Wei replied, “At first, it was just about the cases. But after this latest string of bizarre murders, he became much more active. He especially wanted me to keep an eye on Chen Mu. Any news about Brother Chen, he wanted to hear about it immediately.”

As soon as Kong Wei said this, Jin Ze glanced at me. I understood what he was thinking.

Jin Ze’s look confirmed our previous suspicions: Scarface was my adversary. We were engaged in a deadly game—a contest of murderers. As the saying goes, know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated; Scarface was keeping me under constant scrutiny, counting my kills. Damn it, I still don’t know who Scarface is, and with my amnesia, I can’t even remember him. From the very start, I’ve been at a disadvantage.

Jin Ze asked, “So Scarface only wanted you to do these things? He didn’t ask you to sabotage or collude in these cases?”

Kong Wei shook his head, denying it. This brought another issue to light: though Kong Wei was indeed an informant inside the police, he wasn’t the mole we’d been searching for. He served Scarface—my adversary. The mole we were after might still be lurking somewhere close by.

Jin Ze continued, “One more thing: why did you beg Chen Mu not to kill you just now? Why did you plead for your life?”

Kong Wei looked at me in terror before answering, “Because…”

He didn’t finish. Suddenly, a look of utter horror flashed across his face. In an instant, he turned pale, his pupils dilating as though he’d witnessed something unspeakable.

But wasn’t he looking at me? Was I really that frightening?

Just as I was about to ask what was wrong, Kong Wei suddenly raised his hands and, without hesitation, thrust his fingers into his own eyes.

Jin Ze instinctively yanked me back, then stepped forward to restrain Kong Wei.

But by then, Kong Wei had already gouged out both of his own eyes with his bare hands. His eye sockets became empty, blood streaming down his face like tears.

Even Jin Ze was momentarily frozen, let alone me. The air seemed to freeze around us, a chilling aura enveloping us from head to toe.

What horror had Kong Wei glimpsed, so dreadful that he’d rather blind himself than face it?

While I was still in shock, Kong Wei thrust out his hands, clutching the eyeballs he had just torn from his own head.

As he offered them, he said, “Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me. I’ll give you my eyes. Please, don’t kill me…”

I sucked in a breath, thinking, “What madness is this? Who wants your eyes? I’m not Scarface.”

As I was pondering this, I saw Jin Ze’s body tense up, his posture suddenly hunched and taut like a drawn bow, as if instinctively bracing for danger.

Standing beside him, I was about to ask what was wrong when he surreptitiously signaled me to keep quiet and look down.

I quickly cast a glance at the ground out of the corner of my eye—and what I saw nearly made me lose control of my bladder.

Honestly, it had been a long time since I’d felt such terror.

On the ground, besides the shadow cast by Kong Wei, there were three other shadows.

Jin Ze and I—two people—but three shadows!