Returning to the rest area and sitting down, Pang Le poured a cup of hot water for Guan Xia and handed her a piece of chocolate. "Have something sweet to calm your nerves."
Guan Xia tore open the wrapper and took a bite, slowly savoring the bittersweet flavor.
"You mentioned earlier that your friend told you a lot of rumors?" Guan Xia asked vaguely while chewing the chocolate.
Pang Le sat beside Guan Xia, crossing her legs. "You'd never guess how those two died."
Guan Xia gave Pang Le a look as if she were an idiot. "The news already covered it—one had their throat slit, and the other drowned."
Pang Le nodded. "Yes, drowned. But aside from that, there were no other external injuries. How could the killer be sure they’d die? What if they knew how to swim? You saw the photos—the river’s current wasn’t even strong."
Guan Xia froze, recalling the images. Indeed, as Pang Le said, the river in the photo was wide but slow-moving, almost calm, its surface shimmering under the sunlight.
The drowning was real, but there was more to it—details that couldn’t be disclosed publicly.
Guan Xia turned to Pang Le with a questioning look.
Pang Le leaned in closer, half her shoulder pressing against Guan Xia, and lowered her voice. "My friend told me the drowning victim had been drinking heavily before someone kicked him into the river. His time of death was about half an hour after the female victim’s."
Guan Xia realized something and stared at Pang Le in shock.
Pang Le nodded gravely. "According to my friend’s analysis of the scene, the killer slit the woman’s throat first, then kicked the already-drunk man into the river right in front of her."
Guan Xia suddenly felt the air conditioning was turned up too high—she shivered.
Only now did she understand why the female victim had desperately crawled forward despite her fatal injury. She had been trying to save someone. And what about the man? What had he thought in his final moments, struggling in the water after seeing the woman fatally wounded just before he was kicked in?
Another possibility crossed Guan Xia’s mind—maybe the killer had stayed to watch. Perhaps he had stood there, relishing the sight of the woman taking her last breath and the man disappearing beneath the river’s surface before finally walking away.
Then Guan Xia remembered the crime scene photo from the upstairs case she’d seen in a group chat.
Though very different from the news photos, it also involved two victims—one with a fatal wound, the other seemingly unharmed on the surface.
Guan Xia grabbed Pang Le’s arm. "Do you have any inside information about the case upstairs? That boy—how did he die?"
Pang Le placed her hand over Guan Xia’s and gave it a reassuring pat. "I asked around. The boy died of suffocation."
"What about his mother?" Guan Xia suddenly recalled—the boy’s mother was named Liu Jiahui. She had only met her a few times and only just learned her name.
"Made to look like suicide," Pang Le said. "Because the weapon only had her fingerprints."
In other words, the killer had held the boy hostage, forcing Liu Jiahui to stab herself—just like the 2019 case, where the female victim was held hostage to force the male victim to drink.
Judging by these similarities alone, it was clearly a serial killing.
Guan Xia’s grip on Pang Le’s arm tightened unconsciously. She thought again of the maintenance worker she’d run into while carrying her suitcase.
Thanks to the sudden appearance of the system, three days later, she could still vividly recall his face—narrow eyes, a calm gaze, even a slight curve of amusement when he asked if she needed help. He had seemed so normal, just like countless others she’d met in this world. Ordinary. Unremarkable. That such a person could be a serial killer—even with the system’s blatant accusation—still felt unbelievable.
But disbelief aside, he was a dangerous, deranged murderer. Guan Xia’s mind filled with the image of the female victim’s desperate bloody crawl toward the river. For the first time, she felt that, reluctant as she was, she needed to study this system.
At the very least, she had to do everything she could to ensure this killer was caught before two more victims appeared.
Her thoughts raced until Pang Le suddenly ruffled her hair.
Guan Xia turned to see Pang Le looking at her with regret. "Scared? Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. To make it up to you, I’ll treat you to lunch—that Hunan restaurant from the other day, okay? You seemed to enjoy it."
Guan Xia noticed she was still clutching Pang Le’s arm and quickly let go, forcing a smile. "Sure. After this, I’ll treat you tomorrow. And thanks in advance for being my bodyguard for the next few days."
Though Pang Le hadn’t said it outright, Guan Xia knew she wouldn’t let her stay alone—not even in a new apartment—until the killer was caught.
Pang Le patted Guan Xia and stood up. "Deal. Just relax here for now. I’ll come get you when it’s time to eat."
As Pang Le disappeared into the gym area, Guan Xia scooted further into the corner of the rest area. She pulled out her phone, pretending to watch a drama while actually planning to investigate the system.
Drawing from her extensive novel-reading experience, she first tried calling out in her mind: System? Informant System?
Several seconds passed—no response.
Guan Xia scratched her chin and switched tactics. She searched for mugshots of wanted criminals on her phone, scrolling through one after another. Still nothing.
Is it really this dumb? she grumbled internally.
Before her transmigration, aside from painting, her favorite pastime had been reading novels. In those stories, systems were intelligent, even personable. Hers, however, was not only late but practically brain-dead.
Muttering complaints under her breath, she tried recalling how the system had first appeared.
It had happened when the police knocked on her door. After answering a few basic questions, one officer had asked, Did you see anyone suspicious? That was when the screen had suddenly popped up in her mind.
So, the trigger was a police interrogation?
After much deliberation, this was the only possibility she could think of.
Hesitating, Guan Xia opened the chat with the officer she’d added that day. As the one who’d provided a lead, casually asking if her sketch had been helpful shouldn’t raise suspicions… right?
Putting herself in their shoes, she decided it wouldn’t seem odd. Carefully, she typed out a message:
Hello, Officer. Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if the sketch I provided has been of any help in the investigation?
She reread the wording and tone multiple times before sending it, then anxiously waited for a reply.
Four hours later, when Pang Le returned to take her to lunch, the chat remained silent—not a single word in response.
"What are you spacing out for?" Pang Le stretched her shoulders, eyeing Guan Xia with curiosity. "You’re rarely like this—waiting for news or a call?"
Guan Xia wasn’t too disappointed. Being a cop was a busy job, especially for a detective. He might not have even seen her message yet.
Tucking her phone away, Guan Xia stood up. "It’s about the officer who questioned me earlier. Since I provided some leads, I wanted to ask if there’d been any progress."
Pang Le immediately understood her reasoning and patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Well, prepare to be let down. A case this complex, and still active? They won’t breathe a word due to confidentiality protocols—even if you’re technically a witness. But if you really want to know, I might be able to dig something up."
She pulled out her phone and started scrolling. "I used to date a journalist—guy’s got crazy connections. He might not have the full picture on this case, but even scraps are better than nothing."
Guan Xia swallowed back her initial refusal.
By the time they’d settled into the restaurant and finished most of their meal, Pang Le finally put her phone down and lowered her voice. "He got back to me, but he doesn’t know much. Just confirmed that the case in your building is part of a serial killing spree. The task force assembled for it has been arriving over the past couple of days. The killer’s identity and whereabouts are still unknown, but they’re certain he’s still in Yongquan City."
"Unknown identity…" Guan Xia murmured, then snapped back to attention. "So my gut was right—the face I saw wasn’t his real one."
Pang Le shot her an exasperated look. "You should be grateful it wasn’t. Otherwise, you might’ve ended up on his hit list."
Guan Xia had already heard too many horrifying things today—she was almost numb to it now.
Pang Le wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned in again. "He told me one more thing."
Guan Xia braced herself, knowing it was case-related, and focused on Pang Le.
Sure enough, Pang Le continued, "Besides the couple I showed you earlier, there are two more victims—brothers. One was 13, the other just 2."
Even with some preparation, Guan Xia sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of a toddler among the victims.
Her voice trembled. "How did they die?"
Pang Le’s tone darkened. "The younger one had his wrists slit and was thrown into a fish tank. The older one was forced to jump off a building."
Guan Xia’s fingers clenched involuntarily.
Pang Le sighed. "My friend said the couple was brilliant—they died two months before their wedding, halfway through their engagement photos. And those brothers were inseparable. Their parents were always busy, so the older one practically raised the little one. Just like the mother and son in your building. That killer’s a monster—he can’t stand seeing people happy."
Guan Xia exhaled heavily, her briefly settled emotions twisting into knots again.
