The weapon by the pillow

The next event in Chapter 67 is a cultural performance!

"...Those who should have come didn't, and those who shouldn't have come did."

Upon hearing these leisurely words, Cheng Jing turned around abruptly, staring at the tightly closed door, completely at a loss.

A veteran detective who has worked as a criminal investigator for many years, a woman known as the "fierce and tough female cop," is truly at a loss this time.

Should they have come? Shouldn't they have come?

Who is she? Who is she waiting for?

These five mysterious old men were playing mahjong in the early hours of the morning. Were they really playing mahjong?

And who is the one who "should come"...?

Is it Cheng Tan? Or... Li Kai? Shadow? Or someone else?

Where did they all go? Or was it all a scam?

"No! Master wouldn't lie! My eyes don't lie! The tragedy of thirteen years ago doesn't lie!"

She turned and looked at room 402. The door was now tightly shut, and not a single ray of light shone through the crack, as if the terrified old man had never been there.

She took a deep breath of the cold, damp air and whispered to Chen Ming:

"Leave two people to discreetly monitor this building, especially the activity in rooms 403 and 402. Everyone else, evacuate."

"Team Leader Cheng, what about here..." Chen Ming hesitated.

"This is a stage," Cheng Jing interrupted him, her gaze icy. "The actors on stage have already taken their bows. But the director... is still backstage. We have to find him."

She took one last look at the closed door of room 403, turned around, and strode into the rainy night downstairs.

The entire building was once again plunged into deathly darkness.

Only the sound of rain, tirelessly pounding against this enigmatic world.

"You just walk away like that? How irresponsible of you... You've abandoned a case that has shocked the entire world! Why didn't you search 402? That's a key area too! That's where I was drugged... Girl! In there..." Cheng Tan put down the recorder and asked regretfully.

It wasn't just regret; it was also his disappointment and disillusionment with law enforcement in this world.

"I told you, we got nothing! We did everything we could! Stop asking so many 'whys'!" Cheng Jing's eyes flashed; she sensed the other person's anger and answered fiercely.

"I'm talking about 402..." Cheng Tan emphasized again, "the one who hanged himself..."

"We searched it... Chen Ming organized the search, and the records are in his inventory..." Cheng Jing said weakly.

"What's going on?" Cheng Tan sat up again, asking nervously. As long as it's a crime scene, there will be no trace left.

He always believed in the saying "a wild goose leaves its mark as it flies by".

"No trace...no second floor! No hole in the wall! No sign of Liu Li hanging! Except for three people playing chess!" Cheng Jing said weakly. "The inside is very simple, simple furniture, simple decorations, three simple old people, silent...just playing a game of chess!"

"The hanged man is gone! They're playing chess!" Cheng Tan's mind raced. "Playing mahjong on one side and chess on the other, could this Building 7 be some kind of entertainment culture incubator?!"

"Yes! This is just a stage. They're telling me that the last show is over and this is the next one, a variety show!" Cheng Jing laughed.

I laughed, and then I cried.

She cried loudly, as if venting her emotions, or perhaps lamenting the incomprehensible world.

Cheng Tan was stunned.

Faced with a breakdown and crying, all my questions and anger suddenly vanished as if doused with ice water, leaving only an indescribable emotion.

He never expected that such a tough and capable policeman would cry in front of him, and cry with such despair.

The cries told them more powerfully than any words: the police were not inactive, nor were they just going through the motions. They had encountered a barrier that could not be breached by conventional means, and felt the same, or even greater, sense of powerlessness and anger.

Cheng Tanwo didn't speak or offer any comfort.

He knew that any words of comfort would be futile at this moment.

Several minutes later, Cheng Jing's crying gradually subsided, turning into intermittent sobs and deep breaths.

"...I'm sorry." Cheng Jing quickly regained her composure. "I lost my temper."

"I'm the one who should apologize," Cheng Tan said apologetically. "I shouldn't have questioned you like that. You guys... must have had a hard time too."

Cheng Jing sniffed, took the tissue Cheng Tan handed her, and hastily wiped her face, regaining some composure.

"Cheng Tan, everything you just saw and experienced, including my...loss of composure, don't tell anyone. Not even online."

"I see."

"That 402," Cheng Jing paused, "when Chen Ming and the others went in, the three old people were indeed playing chess. The chessboard was a regular Chinese chess set, and the pieces were old. The room was about fifteen square meters, with a bed, a wardrobe, a square table, three chairs, and a simple bathroom. The floor was old cement with some cracks, but there were no signs of recent damage or excavation. The walls were ordinary whitewashed walls. We checked all the places that might have hidden compartments or secret doors; when we knocked on them, the echoes were solid, with no cavities. There were no holes in the walls as you described, no drag marks, no ropes or supports for hanging, no bloodstains, and no unusual odors—not even that sweet, fishy smell. There was only the stale smell and faint medicinal smell common in old people's rooms."

Her description was extremely detailed, calm, and objective, as if she were replaying a documentary.

"The three elderly people, besides the one we just saw, included a man and a woman, all over seventy years old. They spoke unclearly when questioned, claiming to be longtime neighbors who occasionally gathered to play chess and stay up late. They claimed to know nothing about 'Liu Li,' 'hanging,' 'live stream,' or 'last night's commotion,' or said they were hard of hearing and had poor eyesight and went to bed early. Their identification documents were complete, and their addresses were scattered in several nearby old neighborhoods. There were no flaws."

"No flaws..." Cheng Tan chewed on these four words, feeling a chill. "In other words, either everything I experienced last night was a hallucination—but that's impossible, Lin Qian and the others experienced it too. Or... in the short time between when we lost consciousness and when the police arrived, someone with astonishing efficiency and ability completely remodeled room 402, erased all traces, arranged for three 'actors' to move in, and even prepared a complete set of impeccable identities and backgrounds."

"The latter is more likely," Cheng Jing affirmed. "But how much power would that require? Precise control over time, personnel, and resources, as well as a certain degree of anticipation of police actions... This is something that ordinary criminal gangs cannot achieve."

The two fell silent again.

"Three people, plus five people, that's eight people..." Cheng Tan's mind was momentarily stunned by the number.

"How many people were in the thermal imaging at the time?" he asked Cheng Jing, turning around.

"It seems...it seems there are eight people! You mean...Liu Li!" Cheng Jing suddenly realized.

"Yes, Liu Li is the key!"