As Feng Ju pushed open the door of the Patrol Office, a wave of noisy chatter mixed with the smell of cheap tobacco rushed towards him.

The hall was swarming with shadows of people, a dozen or so circled around the filthy figure at the center.

Dong Ping’s uniform was unrecognizable in color, with grayish-brown rat fur and suspicious mucus adhered to the fabric, his mechanical prosthetic had broken at the elbow joint, and exposed wires dangled like torn intestines.

He didn’t change his clothes, but instead wore it all as a medal showcasing his near-death experience to everyone.

The only flaw was that his other arm was wrapped in bandages, which were seeping blood and emanating the stench of the sewers.

His comrades couldn’t stand it any longer and bandaged and disinfected his pitted and gnawed arm.

Wang from the medical room stood beside, a forced smile on his face; it took him 20 minutes to bandage the arm, and he vomited twice during the process.

"Captain Feng!"

Dong Ping’s suddenly raised voice brought the clamor to an abrupt halt.

He grinned, baring an overly bright smile, and enthusiastically spread his one and a half arms wide:

"Surprised? I crawled out of the sewer!"

Under the light, his teeth gleamed with an unnatural sheen, as if soaked in some liquid.

The onlooking colleagues tacitly stepped aside to clear a path.

Everyone knew that in the team, Dong Ping and Captain Feng were the closest, otherwise, they wouldn’t have gathered at the Patrol Office late at night to "celebrate his birthday."

"I think Captain Feng is so happy he’s about to cry," someone muttered softly.

A sharp-witted constable even preemptively took out a tissue, ready to hand it to the soon-to-be tearful Captain Feng.

Feng Ju stood still, his eyes rigidly scanning the crowd.

Originally, Feng Ju felt very guilty + surprised by Dong Ping’s narrow escape from death.

But at this moment, his mind was filled with more important things and people, his slowly beating heart filled with too many surprises, leaving no room for Dong Ping.

Narrow escape from death?

Pfft!

Can that compare to coming back to life?!!

Feng Ju’s mouth twitched, and he ultimately just let out a muffled "mm" sound.

Then, without looking back, he threaded his way through the crowd and hurriedly headed towards the tech department.

Dong Ping’s smile froze on his face, his raised arms slowly lowered.

A drop of murky liquid seeped through the bandages, falling onto the floor with a soft "plop," releasing a more pungent sewer odor.

"Maybe... Captain Feng is too surprised?" The young constable tried to smooth things over, his voice getting quieter.

No one responded, and everyone exchanged puzzled looks, pinching their noses as they retreated.

Dong Ping stared intently at Feng Ju’s receding back, his eyes swirling with unconcealable resentment.

This was completely off-script for him—he had imagined Feng Ju would be flustered or tearfully embrace him.

But he never anticipated... being given the cold shoulder?

"He didn’t even give me a hug?"

Dong Ping gritted his teeth, and more mucus seeped from his wound beneath the bandages in anger.

Originally, when the taxi brought him back, his dying wish was to ruin Feng Ju’s life.

But now, he felt that would be too easy on Feng Ju.

"I remember Feng’s most beloved person is his daughter, and his son is like a nemesis to him!"

His "dying wish" was evolving—not just wanting Feng Ju dead.

But also to...

Dong Ping silently walked out of the Patrol Office, a taxi stopped at the curb, neither early nor late, just in time.

He crawled into the back seat, roughly tearing off the bandages on his arm. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The rotting flesh fell off in flakes, the corrosive liquid dripping onto the leather seat, leaving dark green marks.

The driver frowned slightly, glancing at the rearview mirror, and Dong Ping also raised his head to look at the mirror.

Reflected in the mirror was not a human face, but a skeleton clad in human skin: empty eye sockets crawling with maggots, a few tendons clinging to the jawbone.

The driver slightly frowned, his voice magnetic:

"Weren’t you going to use his flesh to fill your own body? Why didn’t you act? You’re not thinking of backing out, are you?"

Dong Ping grinned, his jawbone emitting a teeth-grating creak.

He pulled a dead rat from his pocket, the gray-black fur still tainted with sewer grime.

He stuffed it into his mouth, the crunch of bones shattering particularly clear in the car:

"How could I, I promised you, as long as you help me fulfill my dying wish, my corpse will be all yours. I’m already dead, how could I back out? I’m very grateful you gave me this opportunity."

"I just don’t want Feng Ju’s rotten flesh anymore."

He chewed, the putrid juice oozing from the corners of his mouth,

"I want to use another fresher body to fill myself, isn’t that okay?"

The driver quietly watched Dong Ping, feeling the ever-growing resentment emanating from him, like a tangible black mist spreading in the cramped car.

Then, the driver let out a magnetically rich laugh:

"Of course it’s fine, who would refuse a body capable of more complete redemption?"

......

Feng Ju pushed open the door to the tech department, immediately met with the pungent smell of chemicals and the hum of machines.

This room, always lit with stark white lights, resembled the "evidence workshop" of the Patrol Office—sometimes restoring the truth, sometimes... creating the truth.

In short, the Patrol Office’s case-solving rate was inseparable from the silent support of the tech department behind the scenes.

Deng Zhen was hunched over a microscope, his rubber-gloved fingers deftly manipulating a fragment of a fingerprint film.

Hearing the door open, his hand trembled, sticking half the print crooked on the knife handle.

Feng Ju’s face was grim, his brows knitted tightly.

"Feng... Captain Feng, we’re really short-handed recently, if we don’t solve some of the backlog cases soon, it will affect the monthly evaluations, so I..."

Deng Zhen stammered out an explanation, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Feng Ju impatiently waved his hand, interrupting him.

He pulled the now fragmented storage card from his pocket and handed it to Deng Zhen:

"Can this thing be repaired?"

Deng Zhen took the storage card, his face instantly turning darker than the bottom of a pot.

He shook his head helplessly and said:

"Captain Feng, it’s shattered like this, our Patrol Office’s tech cannot restore it. Perhaps Upper City has more advanced tech that can, maybe you should ask the commissioner?"

Feng Ju’s heart skipped a beat, ask the commissioner?

Even though he wasn’t sure what was actually recorded on the storage card, the content could implicate his obedient daughter in patricide, how could he dare let the commissioner see it?

If the commissioner saw it, he couldn’t clean himself up even with extra mouths.

Feng Ju sighed in irritation, pocketing the storage card again, and turned to leave.

Just as he was about to step out, his gaze inadvertently caught a syringe on the table.

The syringe was entirely black, exuding a mysterious aura under the dim light, with what seemed like nanoworm-like metal particles continuously writhing inside.

Feng Ju immediately halted, pointing at the syringe and asking:

"What is that?"