Pei Tugou was whistling as he made his way to Donghua Residential Area. Before he even walked in, he turned his head to look in another direction.
Soon, a car stopped by the side of the road. A man in a pink shirt, reeking of alcohol, got out, cursing out the car next to him and even kicked the car door.
Because usually, he parked here at night—it's close to the entrance of the complex.
This spot wasn't actually a parking space but was right next to the first space. No one came around to issue tickets at night, so he always parked here.
Who would've thought he'd run into someone just as shameless as himself today, who grabbed the spot first.
The guy in the pink shirt kept cursing, when he suddenly heard someone whistling—a weird tune, where not a single note was on key, sinister and offbeat.
He looked towards the entrance to the complex, and in his line of sight, a blurry shadow was approaching.
Gradually, the blurry shadow took the shape of Pei Tugou, covered in fresh blood. But the face, usually looking honest, good-natured, and easy to bully, was now beaming with a bright smile that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and filled him with dread.
His head felt fuzzy; even though he could tell something was wrong, even though seeing the other guy covered in blood was especially terrifying, habit took over—he looked at Pei Tugou walking closer and blurted out,
"No money. Waiting here is useless, so get lost already."
The guy in the pink shirt had no idea—this wasn't Honest Man, Pei Tugou, at all, but Pei Tugou manifested by Power.
Pei Tugou smiled even more brilliantly, walked up unhurriedly, and stretched out a hand, pressing it to Pink Shirt's shoulder—blood seeping out underneath.
Pink Shirt froze in place, as Pei Tugou slowly took out a Blood Rope and tied it around Pink Shirt's neck.
Then that off-key, weird whistling stopped, replaced by a particularly cheerful little tune. He grabbed the rope in one hand, dragging Pink Shirt with the other, and walked with a spring in his step right up to the nearby streetlamp.
Pink Shirt's whole body was stiff, like he had lost all control over himself—he could only watch helplessly, unable to make a sound.
His body felt weightless, just floating by Pei Tugou's side, pulled by the Blood Rope like he was a balloon.
Pei Tugou even kindly adjusted his posture, making sure he could see with his own eyes as Pei Tugou tied the Blood Rope to the streetlamp.
Once it was secured, Pei Tugou walked down from the streetlamp, smiling as he looked at Pink Shirt floating in midair.
The next moment, Pink Shirt's body suddenly dropped. There was a crack, his head lolling at a weird angle, and he shuddered twice like a dying fish, the harsh rasp of his breath fading fast.
Start to finish, he didn't even have a chance to kneel and beg for mercy.
Pei Tugou turned and walked down the center of the street, fading away into the distance.
...
A plain family car worth a hundred thousand was driving past Virtue City First Hospital. In the driver's seat sat a man wearing rimless Glasses, looking through the car window at the inpatient building; he sighed softly.
"Really vanished without a trace. Useless piece of shit."
The man picked up a stack of documents from the passenger seat and glanced over them at random—all copies of the paperwork Wen Yan had used previously.
He gave them a glance, then tossed them aside.
"No wonder, with such good conditions, she still managed to die at the hands of some ordinary people, without even a chance at rescue. Turns out she got crushed by the rules themselves.
Cai Qidong, now he's got some skills—not like the trash who used to just coast through the job.
Get the word out. Any eye-catching people need to keep a low profile for now.
Especially Black Shadow—what the hell was that idiot thinking, showing up around Cai Qidong a few days ago? The kind of guy who can parachute in as Minister of Nanwu County Scorching Sun Department isn't gonna be simple."
"Understood, boss." The guy in the back seat, with a mask on, replied and tapped his earpiece to dial a call.
But just half a minute later, the masked man's voice turned heavy.
"Boss, something's happened. Black Shadow is dead."
"Hmm?" Glasses slowly raised his head, eyes suddenly sharp as blades. "When? Where? Who killed him?"
"Outside the residential complex where that new guy from the Funeral Home lives."
"Drive over and take a look."
The car turned at the next intersection, and soon was passing by the crossroad outside Wenyan Family's complex.
Glasses pushed up his glasses, looking out the window. He saw a pitch-black human figure, suspended from the streetlamp by a dark shadow, unmoving, dead as stone.
Glasses frowned—this wasn't quite what he expected.
From the shadows at the edge of the street, two more pitch-black shapes stepped out. The streetlamps started going out one after another, plunging the area into darkness.
"Tell them to clean this up. Fast."
"Boss, was this the Funeral Home's work?"
"No. And it wasn't the Scorching Sun Department either. They don't have the skills or the Power to pull Black Shadow's guts out and string him up on a streetlamp. Oh, right—have we confirmed that newbie from the Funeral Home?"
"The new guy's records all check out. But yeah, there's a high probability—he can get into the Old Ice Warehouse. We haven't had a chance to test him ourselves yet; he's been in the hospital lately with mushroom poisoning. Black Shadow was handling that case. With him dying here, it's gotta be tied to this newbie."
Glasses gave a noncommittal noise, just said:
"Black Shadow always thought he could come and go as he pleased. He's pissed off more than a handful. Good riddance.
Remember this—always figure out the rules before you act. If you just mess around, you'll accomplish nothing.
If we get another dumbass like Black Shadow, bury him before he drags us all down with him.
Get the word out. Move things along, fast.
After something like this, even if it wasn't someone from the Scorching Sun Department, we can't just sit and wait."
"Yes, boss." The masked man tensed up, immediately agreeing.
The car passed through the crossroads and vanished into the night.
...
Wen Yan slept so deeply it was as if the world had gone black, out for more than ten hours.
When he finally woke, it was broad daylight. He cooked himself a bowl of plain noodles, added a spoonful of his own lard, ate until his mouth was oily and satisfied.
He checked the time. Seven a.m.—probably time to show his face at work. He'd only worked two days, but had already taken days off. The director said it counted as a work injury, paid leave, but Wen Yan figured he couldn't push it too far.
He arrived at work at 7:30. As soon as he got out of the car, he spotted Feng Yao's car already parked outside.
Wen Yan had just stepped inside when he saw Feng Yao's back, heading further in.
Wen Yan gave him a call.
"I see you. I'm at the front gate."
Wen Yan hurried to catch up, walking alongside Feng Yao.
"You're showing up at our place first thing in the morning. What, something up again?"
"Someone was found hanged on a streetlamp. Doesn't look like a normal case, so I came to check it out."
"Perfect, I've got something to ask you…" Wen Yan briefly explained Pei Tugou's situation. "Who should I talk to about this, to smooth things over? Don't tell me prosecuting—I know about that already, but it's too slow."
"No problem, it's all above board anyway. I'll find the right person to put in a word."
The two of them chatted as they entered the body processing section's dissection room in the corner of the Funeral Home. Place didn't see much use, but its main purpose was to cooperate with the Scorching Sun Department.
Anyone who died under suspicious circumstances from the Scorching Sun Department got sent here.
Once they were inside, they peered through the glass. Seeing the corpse lying on the table, Wen Yan's face changed slightly.
"By the way, when someone dies, can you still collect a debt from them?"
"What do you mean?" Feng Yao replied casually, then caught on right away: "The boss you mentioned—was it him?"
"Even though his face is all distorted and misshapen now, I just saw him yesterday. You can still tell it's him. What happened?"
Wen Yan's first thought was that maybe Pei Tugou had finally snapped and knifed the bastard.
Feng Yao pulled out his notebook and showed Wen Yan some surveillance footage, probably from a nearby shop.
In the video, Pink Shirt parks his car, gets out unsteadily, says something to the car next to him and even kicks it.
Then he staggers to the streetlamp, scrambles up it like an animal, takes off his own belt, and hangs himself.
"Other cameras from different angles caught the same thing. Plus, early tests show that last night he was definitely over the DUI limit—drank a ton, but still climbed up there like a monkey and hanged himself without hesitation. We checked—he wasn't into fitness or anything. It's obviously weird."
"Got any leads?"
"Could be complicated."
"Hmm?"
"A few days ago, a chemical plant in Duanzhou—huge hidden risks—got shut down. We dug deeper and discovered stuff under the Scorching Sun Department's jurisdiction, really nasty stuff. This guy was a sub-contractor for their civil engineering—very likely he knew something. Now he's been silenced."
Wen Yan nodded—sounded perfectly reasonable.