Chapter 71: The Past Case

“So, your mission is to find that Young Master Su?” Walking up the stairs, Greasepaint, wearing Liu Xia’s face, broke the silence. She smiled and asked the two black dogs behind her, planning to fish for more information.

Li Yuan nodded. “Besides that, it’s also to investigate this arson case. Does Manager Liu know anything about the arsonist?”

“Unfortunately, I have no guesses about the culprit either. When I came out of the elevator, I heard someone shouting ‘fire’, then the power went out… We were lucky the alarm system still worked,” Greasepaint touched her chest, speaking as if with great relief. “I really can’t fathom what kind of person would commit arson. It’s terrifying. I never thought I’d experience a fire.”

She felt herself getting the hang of this. She wasn’t getting nervous under other people’s gazes anymore and could naturally play the role according to her cover’s persona—maybe she actually had a talent for acting.

“No one can truly understand what a criminal is thinking,” Li Yuan said. “It’s best not to dig too deep. The reason behind it will likely be something completely absurd.”

“Absurd?” Greasepaint asked, a bit curious. “Miss Li seems very mature, like you’ve handled a lot of missions. Can you tell me a story?”

In the archives room, Parrot shivered.

Hyena gave her a puzzled glance. Parrot, hugging her arms and rubbing them, sighed. “I can’t take it anymore. Greasepaint is so… fake. Her simpering voice is giving me goosebumps. I have to record this sound.”

“You mean absurd reasons from past missions?” Li Yuan seemed thoughtful, as if remembering something. “There is one that left a very deep impression on me. It also happened in the Old City District.”

Greasepaint’s movements stiffened abruptly, but she recovered her composure almost instantly. Pushing open a door beside her, she said, “It’s this floor. Please follow me—It was here too? What kind of mission was it?”

Greasepaint handed the flashlight to Qi Xin. The switched-on beam pierced the dark corridor, making it appear long and horrifying.

Li Yuan followed her, speaking slowly. “It was a juvenile offender, not very old, just out of middle school, constantly getting into fights. Normally, it wouldn’t be anything special—just a run-of-the-mill punk, throwing his life away. If nothing out of the ordinary happened, Executors like us would never have reason to seek him out. But he shouldn’t have killed someone. He killed a father, destroyed an entire family. That father scrimped and saved money, wanting to move his wife and daughter out of the Old City District to a better place, so his daughter could invite friends over without getting rejected because the Old City was unsafe. He’d saved up a sum for that—not much, but enough for the move.”

“But he died, beaten to death with a brick. The first hit was to the back of his head. He was knocked to the ground and crawled a distance before another blow landed. Even after he was dead, they didn’t let him be. The killer smashed his head into a pulp,” Her voice was very soft. “His corpse was hung up in the living room. The person who found the body was his daughter… I can’t imagine the sheer despair in that girl, just starting middle school, when she saw her father’s mutilated body. Nor can I imagine what kind of venomous heart it takes to commit such a crime.”

Li Yuan paused, then continued. “After we apprehended the juvenile offender, he refused to communicate with us and showed no remorse. I asked him back then if he knew what it meant for that girl to lose her father. Guess what he said to me… He told me that outcome was what they deserved.”

They finally arrived at the front of the archives room, but Li Yuan didn’t step inside. She just watched the female manager who walked inside, and asked softly, “I’ll ask that question once more. Did you ever stop to think how that girl felt when she lost her father?”

The dark archives room was deathly silent. Greasepaint just stood with her back to her. Only after a while did she slowly turn around, squeezing out a smile. The features on her face were already starting to slide off.

“You don’t know a damn thing.”

“Is that your excuse to absolve yourself?” Li Yuan asked calmly.

Greasepaint raised her middle finger. “What I mean is, who the hell do you think you are, you sanctimonious bitch.”

Almost the instant her words fell, the flashlight in Qi Xin’s hand suddenly grew scalding hot. Before she could react, Li Yuan kicked her right hand first. The flashlight flew sideways, but before it went far, it burst apart in mid-air with a loud bang. It was actually a crudely made bomb. Countless shrapnel shards sprayed out. Li Yuan shielded herself in front of Qi Xin, taking the vast majority of the blast—Li Yuan transformed back into the giant beast almost instantly. Due to the distance, the shrapnel couldn’t effectively wound her, only causing countless shallow cuts on her skin, which healed rapidly.

Li Yuan looked down and saw that the shrapnel was merely shredded paper.

These paper fragments were no different from razor blades in sharpness.

Chuunibyou? Li Yuan thought.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Qi Xin hid behind her, adopting a textbook kneeling shooting stance using Li Yuan as cover. The moment the flashlight bomb exploded, she fired towards the spot she remembered Greasepaint standing. Two shots to the chest, then one to the head. In the darkness, the only light came from the brief muzzle flashes.

“How noble of you, Miss Li, taking shrapnel for your teammate,” Greasepaint’s voice clicked in admiration, the source sounding like she had long ducked behind a bookshelf. “Or is she another noble young lady from some big family, brought along to pad her resume? Let me guess, the Bai family? Or the Song family?”

“Move back and find cover. You can’t help in this situation; you’ll only distract me.”

Qi Xin heard Li Yuan’s lowered voice in her earpiece. She wasted no words and immediately retreated back, hiding at the edge of the door and the wall.

“What an obedient, good girl.” Li Yuan heard the footsteps cautiously moving away and praised her quietly.

(——————)

That woman still hasn’t entered the archives room. She seems very wary and is still probing. That’s a good thing, Hyena thought. Once in actual combat, his mind became remarkably cool, though he was trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the adrenaline rush.

Most of the time, his Talent was the weakest. But only in this kind of team cooperation scenario, he was the undisputed Emperor.

He knelt on the floor, extending his left hand to his side. Parrot grasped his hand. Immediately, Parrot’s Talent was expanded, enhanced, then again diffused. All four of them heard Greasepaint’s panting voice simultaneously within their Mind Lake.

“Are you alright?” Dry Wood asked.

“Not really. The branch you gave me yesterday broke,” Greasepaint said, sounding a bit weak. “Good thing Parrot reacted fast enough, played my voice and stopped them from noticing I got shot. That girl reacted instantly, three hits. I didn’t have time to dodge.”

“Move further back and hide first,” Hyena said calmly. “Let Paper Cutter and Dry Wood take it from here in the actual fight. You need to rest.”

Greasepaint hummed in acknowledgment and tiptoed silently towards the bookshelves at the back.

“That woman wasn’t injured at all,” Paper Cutter lowered her voice, which sounded like it was trembling. “Even though I controlled the output… how did it do nothing? Is she even human anymore?”

“Wait,” Greasepaint suddenly spoke again, her voice sounding strange. “Is any one of you at the last row of bookshelves?”

“No,” Hyena said. His left hand was holding Parrot’s, Dry Wood was on his right, and Paper Cutter was on Dry Wood’s right. His tone instantly sharpened, cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead. “What is it? Is there someone else there with you?”

“I just touched someone’s shoulder. There’s hair too, long hair,” Greasepaint’s voice trembled. The moment her fingers touched those strands, her heart seemed to stop for a second, nearly scaring her to death right there on the spot. “There’s a woman on my right. She probably felt my hand too—but she hasn’t moved, and neither have I.”

“Which means she doesn’t want to start a conflict with you right now. Good. Maintain your current position,” Hyena’s reaction was immediate, commanding quietly. “Don’t move your hand away. Show her your non-hostile intent. We can’t afford to make more enemies right now.”

Greasepaint pursed her lips and said nothing, because she felt a touch on her left shoulder as well. Clearly, the woman on her right wasn’t alone. The other party was also signaling they had no intention of starting a conflict, because the hand placed on her shoulder was also completely motionless, just resting there.

Greasepaint suddenly found the situation a bit ridiculous, like a comedic gag straight out of a TV drama. But when something like this happened to her personally, she couldn’t laugh at all.

Just how many people were hiding in this pitch-black archives room?