Night fell.
Furina set the case file aside and slowly rose from the floor, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.
She walked to the window and pulled it open.
The evening breeze swept through her silver hair, carrying away a trace of weariness.
Outside, the city glowed with neon lights and bustling streets—indistinguishable from the real world. Towering buildings, endless traffic, and crowds of people laughing and chatting filled the scene with vibrant life.
Watching the lively streets below, Furina's lips curled into a faint smile.
But the smile faded.
She had once sworn never to let Fontaine down. Yet now, she found herself stranded in a foreign world…
"Do they think I ran away?"
"They must be so disappointed in me…"
A single tear slid down her porcelain cheek, falling silently to the floor.
She wiped it away and returned to the case file.
"Body-burning case…"
She studied the report carefully.
Only two clues had been recovered from the scene: a pair of earrings and two partially burned teeth.
Truthfully, she couldn't make sense of it. No gender, no age, no time of death—nothing from the forensic team yet.
"The victim wore earrings… likely female. The body was found in an abandoned field, no blood at the scene. So the killer must've transported the body there to burn it."
"But… from where?"
Her mind spun, but no answers came.
Meanwhile…
At Meixiu Modeling Agency—a prestigious institution known for training elite female models—one name stood above the rest: Zhang Xiaoyan.
She was Meixiu's undisputed number one, a rising star and the city's reigning goddess in the eyes of countless admirers.
Beautiful beyond words, with a figure that turned heads and legs that seemed sculpted from jade, Zhang Xiaoyan's icy allure left men breathless.
After finishing a commercial shoot, she returned to the dressing room and headed straight for her locker.
A nearby model glanced at her with thinly veiled hostility but said nothing.
Xiaoyan was used to it. In the cutthroat modeling world, envy and suspicion were part of the daily grind.
After changing, she left the building. It was around 11 p.m.
The streets were eerily quiet. Only a few flickering streetlights lit her path.
She didn't drive or ride, so her apartment was just a kilometer away—a short walk she'd made countless times.
Tonight was no different.
Ding-dong!
Halfway home, her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen. A message from an unmarked number.
Her brows furrowed. She clearly disliked whoever it was.
She opened the message:
"That miniskirt looks so sexy today. You wore it just for me, didn't you? Hehehe…"
Xiaoyan spun around.
Darkness.
No one in sight.
The silence was suffocating. A strange tension filled the air—like invisible eyes watching her from the shadows.
Ding-dong!
Another message. She flinched.
"Don't bother looking. You won't see me. Hehehe."
"Baby, you're so beautiful."
(Attached: '.jpg')
"Do you like it?"
Her face paled.
The photo was recent—taken just moments ago.
And the location? She knew it instantly.
She'd walked this street a thousand times. Every corner was familiar. The photo had been taken from behind a tree just meters away.
Panicked, Xiaoyan stuffed her phone away and broke into a sprint.
She reached her apartment, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. Her fingers jabbed the elevator button repeatedly as she glanced over her shoulder, terrified the stalker had followed her.
Ding!