Chen Xiulian had a certain affection for this grinding machine. It had helped her a lot, like a loyal friend, though it was too old. She wanted to put "He Zhiguo" on it, wanted to put every He Zhiguo on it, but there were too many of them. They crowded in the newspapers piled in the basement, and Chen Xiulian couldn’t tear them all up.

He Zhiguo used to say one thing often when he beat Chen Xiulian: he claimed he had practiced qigong, trained under a master as a child, and was different from ordinary people—he could survive falling from the third floor. Chen Xiulian hadn’t believed it at first, but now she did. He Zhiguo was everywhere.

She remembered dragging He Zhiguo from the first floor into the basement and stuffing him onto the grinding machine. She remembered every step she took that day. But when she woke up in the morning, He Zhiguo was still whispering in her ear. That day, she cooked porridge and ate breakfast facing He Zhiguo in the basement. She asked if He Zhiguo wanted some, but he didn’t answer, so she ate it herself. To make him stop talking, she put He Zhiguo into the porridge too.

The basement light made Chen Xiulian dizzy. She stroked the grinding machine and pressed her face against it. The machine was cold, soothing the redness on her cheeks. She thought of the last man who had lain in the basement—what was his name? She couldn’t remember, but she knew he had also been He Zhiguo.

He Zhiguo was good at pretending. He used to call the Supervisory Bureau and say, "I didn’t abuse her, my wife is the unstable one. I didn’t abuse her, I’ve been wronged." After hanging up, he’d drag Chen Xiulian by her hair downstairs, lock her in the basement, and force her to "reflect" and write a letter of repentance.

What had Huo Qingjun said when he was lying here?

He’d said the same thing: "I didn’t rape anyone, I’ve been wronged."

"I know the truth," Chen Xiulian said to the grinding machine. "The reports are all true. What’s written in the newspapers can’t be wrong. He was just making excuses."

The grinding machine didn’t answer.

Chen Xiulian continued, "When they report on me later, they’ll tell the truth too. I killed He Zhiguo because he broke the law. Why let criminals go free? If you let them go, problems will happen. He Zhiguo raped me before, but the Supervisory Bureau didn’t arrest him, so he kept raping me, kept beating me. What was I supposed to do? I did what I had to do."

The basement was damp, and the lingering smell of blood had turned stale.

Chen Xiulian’s eyes were open but empty. She said, "Once He Zhiguo is gone, I’ll turn myself in. I won’t live anymore. I’ll end it with him. Qinqin won’t have to suffer anymore. She can go to school happily from now on."

A dog squeezed its head through the door crack, panting and barking a few times.

Chen Xiulian said, "Shh."

But it was too late. She heard He Zhiguo wake up again. He Zhiguo spent all day cursing her, never treating her like a human.

The killer had never used her own ID number, so the fingerprints she left on Huo Qingjun’s photo didn’t match the entry records of the Puli Residential Community. These residential systems only required people to report their ID numbers, which were then archived.

Jiang Lian had conducted thorough investigations into the cleaning and moving companies that worked with the Puli Residential Community. He believed the killer was somewhere within the social circles of those under investigation. This was where her connections were, where she obtained information about her victims. The Supervisory Bureau investigated everyone’s social ties—their friends, relatives—all within the scope of the investigation. The surveillance system cross-checked everyone’s fingerprints, but none matched.

Yan Junxun didn’t respond to Jiang Lian’s messages. He just wanted to get rid of the person who had followed him home.

Panda sat on the carpet, showing Shi Shanyan its electronic photo album. Shi Shanyan was truly a friend to pandas, effortlessly winning Panda’s trust with his patience. In the short time Yan Junxun had been out, Panda had already spilled all its secrets.

"I used to be an outstanding pet management system, but the pet shop went out of business, and my original owner sold me to a secondhand system market. I stayed there for years, and I don’t remember much from that time," Panda said solemnly. "But my hometown probably isn’t here. The environment here is too poor. Anyway, when I woke up again, I was Mr. Yan’s indoor system. My life’s purpose is to protect Mr. Yan like he’s my cub. Here’s my ID number."

"So professional," Shi Shanyan said admiringly as he took Panda’s ID number. "Taking care of a cub must be exhausting."

"Not really," Panda said, giving Yan Junxun face. "Mr. Yan is very well-behaved."

"I know," Shi Shanyan said, looking at Yan Junxun.

Yan Junxun met his gaze.

"I almost forgot," Shi Shanyan suddenly pulled a lighter from his pocket and slowly placed it on the coffee table. "I have a little gift for you."

"Lighters are bad," Panda said, too plump to do much more than rest its paws on its belly as it looked between them. "Mr. Yan should quit—"

The simulated panda vanished abruptly. The sound of simmering soup came from the kitchen, and the living room fell silent.

"You can leave now," Yan Junxun said. "Work’s over."

"Jiang Lian is still messaging you," Shi Shanyan pointed out. "Might be overtime notice."

"I never work overtime." The moment Yan Junxun spoke, his ID Communicator rang. He frowned slightly at the unfamiliar number on the screen and answered.

"Hello."

The response was silence. In those few seconds, Yan Junxun sensed something wrong. He decisively ended the call and activated the indoor screen.

Liu Chen’s irritating face appeared immediately. Dressed neatly in a suit, his hair carefully styled, he looked like a proper person as he sat in front of the camera. With a grave expression, he said, "I now have reason to condemn the Supervisory Bureau for dereliction of duty. Their so-called ‘mysterious external consultant’ knows nothing about investigation. A psychological profiler without qualifications has been glorified by Jiang Lian, yet we’re expected to remain silent. I suspect this ‘Mr. Yan’ has been involved in other serial murder investigations. My God, it’s unthinkable. Jiang Lian can’t guarantee..."

Yan Junxun’s heart sank slowly. The window was open, and he caught a whiff of dampness in the air, like the prelude to a storm. Two seconds later, his ID Communicator rang again, the incessant beeping piercingly loud in the quiet room.

"Put Liu Chen on the line," Jiang Lian stood at his office door, speaking the moment the call connected. "Delete that video about the profiler immediately!"

"What is this, a blatant show of power?" Liu Chen’s voice was calm. "Why should the Supervisory Bureau demand my silence? I suspect you’re abusing your position for personal gain. Don’t think you can shut me up. Just wait for the Alliance’s investigation!"

"Me?" Jiang Lian laughed angrily. He scanned the room, then suddenly kicked the door. The loud bang silenced the entire office. Breathing heavily, he said to Liu Chen, "You’d better delete it now, delete it completely, and pray it hasn’t spread too far. I won’t be the one under investigation. His arrival in the Docking Area followed proper procedures, understand? I suggest you start drafting your defense now. Fu Chenghui will come for you soon."

After a pause, Jiang Lian added, still fuming, "Idiot!"

He hung up violently.

Chen Xiulian saw Liu Chen’s post while eating. She didn’t know what a psychological profiler was, so she clicked into Liu Chen’s chatroom.

Ferryman: [Holy shit, I got through! Reporter Liu is amazing.]

Dozens of messages followed rapidly.

[He actually answered? What did he say?]

Ferryman: [He said ‘hello.’ Hello, haha! I recorded it. Sharing it with you all for free.]

Chen Xiulian swallowed her last bite of rice and played the voice message.

"Hello."

The disturbed profiler’s voice was young, clear, and politely distant.

Hello.

Chen Xiulian answered silently in her heart. She put down her bowl and watched Liu Chen’s video, catching a glimpse of Yan Junxun’s blurred profile.

This man was here to catch her.

A strange feeling welled up in Chen Xiulian. She studied Yan Junxun’s face—blurry but pale. He didn’t look like any of the famous people she knew. Liu Chen said he’d been involved in many cases.

At this moment, Yan Junxun was like the lead actor in a spotlighted stage play, with all the attention focused on him.

"Tell Little Orange Dragon to disable notifications too," Yan Junxun said to Panda. "Change the original number."

Panda didn’t respond immediately. After a few seconds, its voice shifted to a mechanical tone. "Understood. Temporarily activating ‘Artemis’ mode. Initiating full protective isolation for Junxun."

But it failed. The ID Communicator kept ringing.

"Request denied. ‘Artemis’ protection data has been deleted. SN 7-001 remains under review. Request denied. ‘Artemis’ protection data..."

The room’s warning system began looping abnormally, the lights flickering.

Yan Junxun was unnaturally still.

"Indoor system under malicious attack. Communicator disconnected from main management. Recommend temporary cessation of use..."

The ID Communicator suddenly stopped beeping and switched to auto-answer mode. The screen flickered, the camera activating, but the other side was pitch black. A staticky noise, like swarms of tiny invasive insects, gnawed at the silence.

"Hello—" The voice on the other end was distorted. "Let’s see, genius—"

The ID Communicator sparked abruptly, the screen freezing. Then Shi Shanyan turned the camera toward himself, smiling at the other end.

"You want to die?"

The next moment, the communicator was crushed by the Restraint Lock’s electric current, the screen freezing on Shi Shanyan’s dangerous, fanged grin before going dark. The room plunged into silence, all systems entering hibernation.

Yan Junxun’s pale face had almost been exposed to the camera.