The wooden tenement was already dilapidated beyond repair. No sooner had Qin Siyang vanished into the dawn than the entire building was swallowed by roaring flames.
The fire raged uncontrollably, too ferocious for anyone to put out.
By the time the fire brigade arrived, they could only stand by, helpless, and watch as the inferno reduced everything to ashes.
In half an hour, the thirty-to-forty-year-old building—a silent witness to life both before and after the apocalypse—was gone.
As firefighters sifted through the smoldering debris, they stumbled upon a charred corpse, a blackened knife still protruding from its chest. They immediately notified the police.
Upon receiving the call, the police department dispatched officers to the scene at once.
Leading the team was none other than Inspector Orlov.
Orlov kicked at a charred wooden beam standing in his path; it cracked and splintered into pieces with a hollow thud.
He surveyed the devastated area and shook his head.
"Fires like this… they've been happening far too often lately."
"Indeed," replied Roylena. "Now that my [Scent Tracker] ability is becoming more widely known, criminals have figured out that fire is the only way to completely erase their scent trails. That's why arson has become their weapon of choice when they commit crimes."
"Criminals? So you don't think this was an accident? Have your people already examined the scene?"
"Yes, Inspector Orlov. We found a burnt body in the rubble, a knife stuck in its chest. The victim's hands were bound behind his back—clear signs of murder."
"Show me."
"Right this way."
Both Orlov and Roylena were Sequence Ability users, their physical prowess far exceeding that of ordinary humans. They strode forward, kicking aside charred planks as they went, until they reached Liu Dazhi's unrecognizable remains.
Orlov knelt down, pulled a cigar from his pocket, clipped the end with a small pair of scissors, and lit it on a piece of burning wood nearby.
He took a drag, then leaned in to study the corpse carefully.
"On the surface, it does look like the victim was bound and stabbed straight through the heart. Hand me a pair of gloves."
An officer standing nearby handed him a pair of white latex gloves.
Orlov clamped the cigar between his teeth, slipped on the gloves, and began to examine Liu's body.
"The victim's jaw is broken. Looks like it was smashed by a heavy blunt object. Any leads on what could have caused it?"
The officer shook his head. "Nothing concrete. The fire destroyed most of the evidence. Judging by the way the bone is shattered, it was likely a baseball bat."
"This neighborhood is poverty-stricken. Baseball bats are rare here. And even if the weapon was one, it was probably wooden—so we'll never be able to find it now."
Orlov nodded, agreeing with the officer's reasoning.
"Did any of the neighbors see or hear anything unusual?"
"Yes, sir. The victim's name was Liu Dazhi; he worked as a manager at the internet café nearby. The estimated time of death is between 7:20 and 7:25 this morning. Before the fire broke out, several neighbors heard someone banging on his door, yelling at him to take out his trash. It sounded like they got into a heated argument."
"Based on the timeline, that person is the prime suspect—he probably broke in, killed Liu, robbed the place, and then set the fire to cover his tracks."
"Did anyone get a look at him?"
The officer shook his head. "No one saw his face. It was too early—most people were still asleep. The only ones who heard the argument were those who had to leave for work early."
Orlov said nothing, his brow furrowed as he thought. Then he asked,
"Was Liu Dazhi the wealthiest resident in this building?"
"No, sir. There are two women who work at a cosmetics factory living here; both earn more than Liu did. They both own cell phones—in fact, they were the ones who called the fire department."
"Are they married?"
"One is married; the other lives alone."
After hearing this, Orlov shook his head. "Let's hold off on classifying this as a robbery-homicide for now."
"Why not, sir?"
Orlov didn't answer immediately. He narrowed his eyes and took another couple of drags on his cigar. "If this were a random robbery, why target Liu Dazhi—a lowly internet café manager—instead of the single woman from the cosmetics factory? She'd have been a much more lucrative target."
"Well… maybe it was a crime of opportunity?"
"A crime of opportunity?" Orlov scoffed. "This doesn't look like a spur-of-the-moment act. The suspect argued with Liu to get him to open the door, then went inside, killed him, robbed him, and set the place on fire. The whole thing was executed with precision—it was clearly premeditated and targeted."
"If it had been a random attack, the suspect would have just waited for someone to leave the building alone, then kidnapped them and forced them to hand over their keys."
Roylena looked at him. "Are you saying someone wanted Liu Dazhi dead, Inspector Orlov?"
"I'm saying it's a distinct possibility. We'll need to dig deeper to find out for sure. By the way—you said he worked at an internet café?"
"That's correct."
Orlov glanced around the desolate neighborhood. "Anyone who can run an internet café on the edge of the safe zone… they're never just an ordinary civilian. Go talk to the owner. He might have some useful information for us."
Wang Defa was lounging idly behind the counter of his internet café when Orlov and his team walked in.
"Well, well—officers! What brings you to my humble little shop? Is there something I can do to assist you?"
Wang Defa wore a respectful smile on his face, but his mind was racing. He wondered which of his many shady dealings had finally caught up with him and drawn the police's attention.
He'd been running this internet café for years, dabbling in all sorts of gray-area businesses. If any of them were exposed, it would be more than enough to land him in prison for a good long while.
"We're not here because of you," Orlov said flatly. "We just need to ask you a few questions about someone."
"Who might that be, officers?"
"Liu Dazhi. I assume you know him?"
"Oh, him! He's one of my employees here—the manager. He had the day off today, so he's home resting. If you need to speak with him, you'll probably have to come back tomorrow. He doesn't own a cell phone or a computer, so I can't get in touch with him."
Orlov shook his head. "We're not here to see Liu Dazhi. We're here for you. Because earlier this morning, Liu Dazhi was murdered."
"Murdered?" Wang Defa's eyes widened in shock. "That loser? A total couch potato—who'd want to kill him?"
Orlov studied his face; the surprise seemed genuine enough. He pressed on. "Do you have any idea who he might have upset lately? Any enemies?"
Wang Defa looked utterly confused. "He's just a manager—his job is to collect fees and turn on the computers. Who could he have possibly offended? And even if he did annoy someone, why would they go so far as to kill him?"
He'd spoken to Qin Siyang about Liu just that morning, but he'd immediately dismissed the idea that a Sequence Ability user would bother killing a pathetic, overweight internet café manager like Liu.
Orlov continued. "Our preliminary investigation suggests it was a robbery-homicide. Do you have any clues that might help us with the case?"
"Sir, robbery-homicides are crimes of greed. I'm just a small-business owner—how would I have any leads on something like that?"
Orlov thought Wang Defa probably wasn't a suspect, but he decided to ask anyway. "Have you been at the café the entire day today?"
"Yep—here since opening time. You can ask any of the customers here. They'll all vouch for me."
"That's right! Boss Wang hasn't left once!"
"I can confirm that too! If Liu Dazhi is dead, it has nothing to do with Boss Wang!"
"Uh, Boss Wang… don't you remember?" A young man with a face full of pockmarks spoke up with a smirk. "You did step out for a bit earlier this morning, right? Someone came looking for you."
Wang Defa's expression darkened. He recognized the kid—he'd chewed him out a while back for falling behind on his internet fees.
So this was the little weasel's way of getting revenge—trying to stir up trouble for him in front of the police! Wang Defa narrowed his eyes at the pockmarked youth, mentally plotting how to teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget.
Orlov turned to Wang Defa. "Is what he says true?"
"It is," Wang Defa replied nonchalantly. He didn't see any harm in admitting it; after all, he was certain Qin Siyang had nothing to do with Liu's death.
"Who came to see you? What time was it? And how long were you gone?"
"My memory's a bit fuzzy on that," Wang Defa said, clutching his head. "Ugh—suddenly I've got this terrible headache. I can't recall a thing. Why don't you ask the pockmarked kid over there? Seems like he remembers it a lot better than I do."
This time, Wang Defa had no desire to cooperate with Orlov's questioning. He feigned a headache and dodged the topic entirely.
Liu Dazhi's death had nothing to do with him—that much was crystal clear. He'd been willing to help out a little, but this white-haired inspector was prying into his personal business now.
Didn't the man realize what it meant to run an internet café in a slum like this? If any of his private dealings were exposed, even an inspector wouldn't be able to sweep them under the rug. And those were not stories meant to be told lightly!
Orlov stared at Wang Defa's face, his expression turning displeased.
Wang Defa kept one hand pressed to his head, peeking out at Orlov from between his fingers. His gaze was cold and sharp— a silent warning.
Orlov knew Wang Defa had deep connections. He couldn't afford to push him too hard without solid evidence.
More importantly, nothing about Wang Defa suggested he was involved in Liu Dazhi's murder.
So he turned to the pockmarked youth instead. "Excuse me—do you remember what time the boss left, and how long he was gone?"
The pockmarked kid's eyes darted around nervously for a moment before he spoke. "He left around seven o'clock! And he was gone for almost an hour! Wait—did you say Liu Dazhi is dead? Maybe Boss Wang did it!"
"Bullshit!" someone sitting next to the pockmarked kid snapped. "Boss Wang swiped my card and turned on my computer at seven-thirteen! He was right here the whole time I've been here—no way he was gone for an hour!"
The pockmarked kid shrugged indifferently. "Guess I must've misremembered, then."
Behind the counter, Wang Defa's hands curled into tight fists. This little pockmarked weasel was getting far too bold for his own good—he must have forgotten exactly who he was dealing with, thinking Wang Defa was just some ordinary café owner.
After hearing the other customer's defense, Orlov asked, "What time did you say he activated your computer? Can I see the login record?"
The man checked the screen and replied, "7:13 a.m."
"Thank you."
The fire had broken out around 7:20 a.m. Wang Defa had a solid alibi.
Orlov glanced at Wang Defa, who had clearly decided he'd had enough of the questioning. "If you think of anything that might help with our investigation, Mr. Wang—don't hesitate to contact us."
"Goodbye."
Wang Defa didn't bother with any further pleasantries.
Orlov led his officers out of the café.
"That internet café owner is hiding something, Inspector Orlov," Roylena said as they walked.
"Of course he is," Orlov replied, lighting another cigar. "But his secrets are not yours to uncover. And they're not mine to uncover—not until I return to Sigma District."
"But sir—"
"No 'buts,' Roylena," Orlov cut her off sharply. "Don't be curious about everything. Focus only on the case at hand—that's my advice to you. I suggest you take it to heart."
Roylena met Orlov's piercing gaze and nodded silently.
As soon as Orlov and his team were gone, Wang Defa pulled out his cell phone and retreated to the back warehouse to make a call.
"Hey, Old Snake. It's me. You free right now? I need a job done."
"Yeah—the usual rate applies. Don't worry about it. Anyone who steps foot in my café… they're never what they seem. Even if you take care of all of them, the police will never trace it back to you…"