Chapter 66: Midnight Corpse Transport

To locate the missing camera, the investigation team pinned most of their hopes on the surveillance footage.

The park’s cameras were reliable enough, but the ancient architectural complex and Gourmet City were another story. Although the entire street was blanketed in coverage, blind spots abounded. With pedestrians streaming endlessly, arms blocked views or faces got obscured, making it tough to track anyone from start to finish.

Section Chief An Erdong led two team members in a grueling afternoon of work. Beyond hunting for the camera, they also kept an eye out for suspicious individuals who had approached Kuper. In the end, they narrowed the timeline to the latter half of Gourmet City.

“We can confirm it: after he passed this shop, there’s no footage of him taking any more photos.”

“But wasn’t he still holding the camera?”

“Yeah, clutched right in his hand.”

An Erdong focused intently on the screen, zooming in until the image turned blurry before pulling back.

“Rewind to the shop section and check again!” An Erdong’s voice rose with excitement, carrying across to the opposite workstation.

Across the room, Director Ji Tingxi and Ruo Xing were wrapping up their own independent task when they heard the shout. Ji Tingxi looked up involuntarily.

She shot Ruo Xing a meaningful glance. He caught on immediately, stood, and headed out for coffee. As he passed the terminal near the door, he “casually” glanced at the screen.

“Hey, are you folks running into some trouble?”

“We’re looking for something, but no luck so far.”

An Erdong didn’t turn around. Ruo Xing paused for two seconds, taking in the man on the screen: light hair, green eyes, clearly a foreigner fresh out of a dessert shop, arms loaded with treats, looking like he was savoring the local cuisine.

…

Dean He De had been ready to dig in his heels and see the investigation through to the bitter end. But the current situation left no room for stubborn pride.

North County Station was not to be trifled with, especially during this delicate period of goodwill between Baikang and Kangman. With no solid evidence in hand and the Kangman Consulate applying pressure, maybe it was time to…

“Dean He, I have urgent business to report. Could you step upstairs for a private word?” Ji Tingxi knocked and entered. The tense atmosphere in the room leaked out with the opening of the metal door.

“I’ve got an emergency here. Wait outside.” He needed to make the final call right away—release the suspect or hold him? Everyone was waiting on his decision.

“No problem. What I have ties directly into this emergency. Once you see it, it might help you decide.”

…

This was surveillance footage Ji Tingxi had pulled from a specialty restaurant. It showed Kuper seated at a window booth, alone, with a spread of dishes laid out before him—each type clearly visible.

He sliced his crepe into small pieces, chewing slowly. While eating, he gazed out at the pedestrians, rarely glancing toward the restaurant interior or the camera’s position.

The sight of the man on screen didn’t thrill Dean He De—it startled him. “Why did you launch your own investigation without authorization?”

“I wouldn’t dare. It happened while I was pursuing my target. I crossed paths with Section Chief An and his team. He spotted the same person in our footage, which drew my attention to this foreign visitor.”

Ji Tingxi knew she’d catch flak for it, so she’d left An Erdong in the internal investigation section to back her up. As she finished explaining, An Erdong stepped forward to vouch for Director Ji. “That’s right. I overheard Director Ji discussing it with Ruo Xing—a man with Gailie features showed up in their footage. I went over to check and saw Kuper in theirs too, so I alerted Director Ji to keep an eye on his movements.”

Dean He De scanned the internal investigation office. With two teams working in tandem, it wasn’t impossible for them to overlap like this.

“We’re investigating Kuper. What were you originally looking into?”

Ji Tingxi pointed at the screen. “Take a look.”

Right behind Kuper’s seat was another booth in the same row. Du Lengding happened to be seated directly adjacent. Though at separate tables, their chairs were so close—accounting for the seat thickness—that they were effectively back-to-back. One could sense the other simply by crossing their legs.

At the start of the footage, everything seemed normal. Kuper arrived first, ordered, and ate. Then Du Lengding entered, took her seat, and a server helped her order.

Ji Tingxi advanced the timeline midway and zoomed in. Dean He De watched their movements closely and spotted the anomaly: Du Lengding’s mouth movements didn’t resemble normal chewing. They looked like speech. She had no companions nearby, no phone to her ear—muttering to herself was downright odd.

Meanwhile, Kuper paused his eating now and then while she “spoke,” perking up his ears as if listening. He even turned to glance at her once before quickly resuming his meal.

Seeing Dean He De react, Ji Tingxi pressed her advantage. She signaled her team to step back—the real bombshell was coming.

“The woman seated behind our foreign friend is Patrol Police Team Vice Captain Du Lengding, Officer Du. She suddenly shows up at this restaurant for a meal, and with so many empty seats available, she picks the one right behind a foreigner.”

Dean He De’s suspicions, which had nearly fizzled out, reignited.

“Where is this restaurant located?”

“Gourmet City West Road No. 128, just fifty meters from the last dessert shop he visited. According to Section Chief An, Kuper entered the restaurant shortly after leaving the dessert shop. The cameras caught him stowing items in his backpack, but that doesn’t prove the camera was still there when he left.”

Now alone in the office, the silence grew heavier. Dean He De pondered for a moment, still wary of her actions. “Why were you investigating Officer Du?”

“Because she has suspicious points. I’ve had some downtime lately and went back through the old Affairs Bureau archives. A significant portion of Sern suicides or disappearances were ruled faked. It got me wondering: could accidental or criminal death cases be fabricated too? If so, the crux is handling the bodies—and the entity directly partnering with the police system is Sunset Funeral Home.”

“You investigated the funeral home?”

Dean He De couldn’t help but admire Ji Tingxi. What a talent—she didn’t complain about a hostile environment; she forged her own.

“I didn’t investigate outright. I just inquired about procedures, including interest in body counts. The day after I questioned Director Luo Le of Sunset Funeral Home, he headed to the seaside to meet Officer Du. And checking the funeral home’s body transfer logs, one-third list Officer Du as the executing officer.”

“Did you catch their conversation?”

“No, but highway surveillance confirmed they met.”

Dean He De nodded. “Go on.”

“So I kept tabs on Officer Du until I caught her in the restaurant, seemingly secretly meeting a foreign tourist.”

“I recall Director Wen recently had a collaborative investigation with the police bureau. Was she the assigned officer?”

“Yes.”

Dean He De drew a deep breath. It all clicked—Ji Tingxi hadn’t suspected Du Lengding because of the funeral home. She’d been on her list from the moment she liaised with Wen Du. Any hint of trouble, and she’d dig relentlessly.

The problem was acute now: Du Lengding was compromised, and badly. Dean He De couldn’t ignore it lightly.

Reading the leadership’s inner turmoil, Ji Tingxi spoke up at the perfect moment. “Dean He, my advice is not to release the suspect yet. If he’s linked covertly to a local public servant, that’s suspicious enough on its own. We need to investigate thoroughly.”

Ji Tingxi had inflicted a “wound” on Dean He De before—the conference room stabbing still haunted his mind, flashing back at night. Yet he had to admit her arguments and tactics always hit home.

The Zi Qin sisters’ release from camp had played out that way, as had the Summer Lotus Flower Shop probe.

Suspicions solidified into facts; traitors showed their true colors. The fallout was just fiercer.

Maybe her ruthless methods would backfire eventually.

For now, the consulate’s pressure warred with Ji Tingxi’s suspicions in his mind, neither prevailing. Then she delivered the clincher:

“Dean He, if we can uproot both Gailie Country and the Sern Organization through this investigation, wouldn’t that be ideal? These two tumors have been gnawing at North County for years. Release the foreign suspect, and if he escalates, we’ll face accountability—not to mention greater threats to North County City. Please consider it carefully!”

…

On the morning of June 11, at Baorui Auto Service, the ever-diligent Yu Teng welcomed Du Lengding back, once again serving as her personal attendant.

“Miss Du, your car’s in for repainting and will be ready soon. As part of our loyal customer appreciation event, to thank you for your support of our brand, we’re gifting you a solar-powered helicopter desk ornament and a 100-yuan fuel voucher. It’ll hit your account shortly—please check.”

Du Lengding accepted the gifts with a poker face.

Her car needed frequent fixes, netting her freebies every visit. She suspected Yu Teng was cutting her special deals—not just passing messages, but shearing the shop’s wool too.

And the giveaways kept coming. “Here’s your updated membership card. Enjoy our latest discounts on future visits.”

Du Lengding took it, pinching it between thumb and forefinger. “Fifty grand in there, right?”

Yu Teng lowered her voice. “Yes, and the account’s set up.”

“Good. Boss Jia agreed to help?”

“Yeah, we got his brother out before. He hasn’t forgotten.”

“Perfect.” Du Lengding pocketed the card, her gaze darkening. “No issues then.”

…

June 12, 7:30 p.m.—the appointed meeting. Du Lengding returned to Sunset Funeral Home.

Truth be told, she hated showing up here. A police officer meeting a funeral director off-hours? It screamed illicit dealings.

And theirs were illicit, through and through.

This visit was for outright crime—serious enough for a three-year-plus sentence.

“The money’s all there. Password’s sent—check it.”

Director Luo Le swiped the card through the reader. “Fifty grand exactly, not a penny more. Can’t you throw in extra to reward my hard work?”

“Want my paycheck card too? Monthly rewards?”

Luo Le twisted his lips into a grin. “Sure, I won’t say no.”

Du Lengding turned to the lounge window. The blinds were shut, but slatted light striped the floor—like iron bars in a cell, much the same in her eyes.

“Can we continue our partnership?”

“Of course, but the split’s non-negotiable: ten grand per go, no less.”

“Tomorrow at dawn, I need a healthy adult female corpse, ages 25 to 35. Organs undamaged—no facial requirements.”

“Got it. I’ll source one. Dawn, right?”

“Yes. Clear out the staff.”

“No need to tell me—I always make it seamless.”

“Seamless? Those photos you take could land us both in prison for life.”

“Nah, word it right: enough to put you away. I’m the innocent dupe—has nothing to do with me.” Luo Le batted his watery eyes.

“Fine. Every time I haul a body out, you snap pics. Then you move it outside the funeral home, where my car’s waiting.”

“Pfft, why should I do the heavy lifting and extra risk? Haul it yourself!”

“You jacked the price to ten grand? More labor for the markup. Otherwise, I’ll find another partner.”

“Try it, and I’ll report you!” Luo Le planted hands on hips, maximizing his modest stature.

“Director Luo, ease up on the dope—it’s frying your brain.” Du Lengding leaned by the window, looking down at him. “Don’t threaten to snitch every time. If I end up in an interrogation room, it won’t help you!”

…

The day was packed. At 5 a.m., mourners still lingered in the chapel. Luo Le stationed staff up front, locked the freezer access, and wheeled the marked corpse to the backyard on a cart.

Up to this point, it was safe. He’d routed the employees away; he controlled the cameras and could delete footage. But beyond the yard gate—even if close—the unease doubled, like venturing into a tiger’s den.

Luo Le adjusted his work cap and glanced up. The night sky wasn’t pitch black; it reflected earthly glow in deep-sea blue, stars twinkling faintly.

The clear heavens bolstered his nerve. One grand reward dwarfed the risks.

Like sneaking out as a kid for a quick pee. Over in a minute.

Luo Le pushed the cart outward, punched the code, and the gate slid open. He strolled like any late-night passerby, rounded the corner, scanning for the vehicle.

Du Lengding’s Baorui 350S—an SUV, long and boxy—was unmistakable even at night. The backyard resembled barren flats, low scrub offering no cover; a flat expanse should reveal it easily. Where was the car?

Tardiness was a good excuse, but Du Lengding was never late. As a pro body handler, Luo Le fretted over post-removal decay affecting “sales.” With her, no such worry—the car arrived early, AC cranked, trunk with custom cooler to keep things fresh and dry till destination.

Something felt off. After waiting, Luo Le gripped the cart, ready to retreat. But as he shifted, footsteps erupted around him, converging fast amid sweeping lights and stern warnings: “Drop what you’re holding and squat on the ground!”

Luo Le knew this drill—he’d imagined it countless times. But things had gone too smoothly with the officer; he’d thought it’d never touch him.

“Director Luo, you’re suspected of trafficking bodies. Come with us to the police bureau to assist with the investigation!”