Chapter 4: The Identity of the Deceased

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I saw Kanazawa bend down and lift the corpse from the coffin. Instinctively, I wanted to step back because I sensed this body was different from those in typical homicide cases. A corpse enclosed in a coffin carries a heavy, ominous aura.

But Kanazawa quickly called out to me, “Chen Mu, come over and help.”

Reluctantly, I steeled myself and approached the coffin. Instantly, a pungent stench of decay hit my nose, making it hard to breathe. I placed one hand on the edge of the coffin and the other on the back of the corpse.

The moment my hand touched its back, a sudden chill gripped my heart. It felt wrong—something sticky and strange beneath my fingers.

At that moment, Kanazawa gave a slight, almost hidden smile—fleeting but unmistakable—like someone suppressing a mischievous laugh after playing a prank.

I immediately realized Kanazawa was capable of lifting this corpse himself. He had called me over just to tease me, much like the time an eyeball dropped beside me. I couldn’t understand how such a typically serious and stern man had this peculiar streak, but I didn’t blame him; I understood he was trying to help me acclimate to this grim atmosphere.

But what was that sticky, wet substance on the corpse’s back?

Together, Kanazawa and I turned the corpse completely around, back facing us. When I saw its back, I instantly comprehended—and my scalp tingled in horror.

The corpse’s back was hollowed out! More precisely, it was only half a body. The back, the rear half of the legs, and the back of the skull were all scooped out halfway. The shape resembled a human shell, big enough to hide someone inside.

At once, I understood the truth behind the funeral carriage murder case. It wasn’t some ghostly spirit driving and killing; the killer had concealed himself inside this human shell. This was a meticulously planned murder! The perpetrator was so deranged that to avoid exposure, he hollowed out the corpse like this. He could have simply hidden under the corpse, but that wouldn’t have been as perfect. In this regard, he was similar to Bai Ye—a perfectionist.

Kanazawa immediately turned to a female traffic officer standing nearby and instructed her to check the surveillance cameras around the precinct for any suspicious persons leaving the area. He also called the police station, urging them to detain the funeral carriage driver at all costs. Dragging a corpse like that, the driver couldn’t be completely unaware, especially since he had stepped out at that exact moment for a break.

After these instructions, Kanazawa suddenly steadied the hollowed half-corpse himself and said to me, “Chen Mu, crawl inside this human shell and have a look.”

I rolled my eyes at Kanazawa with some annoyance. “No way. Why don’t you go in yourself?”

He replied, “Because you’re more suited for it.”

I was about to retort, but soon realized Kanazawa’s meaning. This corpse was large-built, and the hollowed-out shell looked oddly tailored to my physique—it seemed just right to hide me underneath.

Kanazawa added with a smile, “Chen Mu, don’t you think this was made just for you?”

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Though it seemed true, I couldn’t help but argue, “Not at all. If you don’t believe me, go in and see—you’d fit just fine too.”

Kanazawa smiled back, “Chen Mu, no need to be nervous. You handled the big ‘Killing Game’ case well enough; I trust you. I wouldn’t doubt you over a small case like this. I just want to estimate the killer’s build. From what I see, the killer’s physique should be similar to yours. But it’s also possible the killer is actually shorter and hollowed out a large shell to confuse us.”

His reasoning made sense, so I awkwardly smiled in response.

Soon, we received word from the station: the funeral carriage driver was still giving his statement.

Kanazawa immediately led me to the station. Upon arrival, we briefly learned from the officers about the driver’s account.

The driver had transported the corpse from a neighboring city—the deceased had died suddenly in that city and was being brought home for burial. Unexpectedly, the driver urgently needed to use the restroom, so he stopped and left the vehicle. During that brief moment, the vehicle lost control and ran over a person. During the statement, the driver mentioned ghostly killings and said that in his line of work—hauling corpses—it was normal to encounter such phenomena. He claimed cases of reanimated corpses were commonplace, though whether that was true was unclear.

The identity of the corpse was confirmed: it was indeed the husband of the pregnant woman who had been run over, but not her current husband—her ex-husband. They had divorced less than a year ago, about seven months prior. After the divorce, the man had gone to work in the neighboring city and was unexpectedly killed there.

The police also uncovered the reason for the divorce. Apparently, the woman became pregnant, but her ex-husband was congenitally infertile. They had been married for twenty years without children. The woman’s unexpected pregnancy in her late thirties suggested the child was not the ex-husband’s. I imagined no rational man would tolerate that.

I hadn’t expected the pregnant woman to be in her forties—an older mother who tragically led to the death of all three family members. It was a heartbreaking tale.

This complicated relationship was why the case seemed so bizarre and why the “ghost killing” theory was so widely embraced.

But Kanazawa and I knew ghosts had nothing to do with it. Kanazawa immediately interrogated the funeral carriage driver. I didn’t enter the interrogation room but watched via surveillance.

Kanazawa, a psychological expert, did not resort to threats or coercion. After a simple conversation, the driver panicked and spilled everything he knew.

The driver had omitted several things in his initial statement. He admitted accepting money from a middle-aged man who instructed him to stop the vehicle upon arrival in City X when he saw the pregnant woman, then leave for about fifteen minutes before returning and driving off.

I suspected this middle-aged man was the one we had seen in the surveillance footage. However, he was likely an accomplice, since the killer himself was probably still observing from within the crowd.

How they predicted the pregnant woman would be at that spot at that time was simple: she was lured there. Someone must have said something to coax her out, and that person was probably the middle-aged man.

On the surface, the case appeared solved: the killer was someone of similar build to me, along with the middle-aged man. The next step was to capture the middle-aged man.

Kanazawa and I left the precinct but did not return to the cold case office. Instead, we followed officers to the home of the pregnant woman who had been run over, hoping to find clues about who had led her to that road.

We quickly uncovered details about the woman. Her name was Cheng Xin. She had been a nurse but became a full-time housewife after marriage, having never had children.

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We searched Cheng Xin’s home but found little of significant value—no evidence that the killer had visited.

After the divorce, Cheng Xin seemed to have developed depression, rarely contacting anyone and mostly isolating herself at home.

Her house contained many sleeping pills and medications for depression. Under her pillow, we found her diary.

The diary began after her divorce, with sparse entries mostly repeating one terrifying theme.

Cheng Xin insisted she never cheated and had never been with any man other than her husband, but no one believed her—not even her ex-husband.

More frighteningly, she claimed the child in her womb was a ghost baby. She said she hadn’t been intimate with any man for a long time, and her husband had been sexually indifferent for years. She insisted she could not have gotten pregnant...

It was truly chilling—how could one become pregnant without intimacy?

But since Cheng Xin suffered from depression and mental instability, such ramblings were understandable. Perhaps she had been unfaithful, felt guilty, and denied her mistakes, ultimately descending into this state. Pitiful, yet hardly deserving of sympathy.

After finishing the search at Cheng Xin’s home, we left and returned to the city. Strangely, I found myself returning to my city residence. It wasn’t that I was fearless—after all, the “Killing Game” case had just concluded—but I no longer felt the same level of fear. If Bai Ye were to appear again as a voyeur in my home, I believed I wouldn’t be afraid.

The thought was bittersweet. I wondered when Bai Ye would finally awaken, and if he did, what role he would choose—continue as a demon, or, as he once said, become a policeman who arrested himself?

Lost in thought, I fell asleep and slept fairly well. The next morning, I was jolted awake by my phone ringing.

It was Kanazawa calling. When I heard his words, I shot upright in bed.

He said, “Chen Mu, there’s a major breakthrough. We’ve discovered the deceased Cheng Xin had a connection to you—she was the nurse who delivered your child.”