Chapter 56: The Hammer Demon Case (Part 25)

On the evening of November 25, the streetlights cast hazy, yellowish halos into the damp air.

Li Rui pushed open the door of the time-honored noodle shop. The brass bell on the door chimed crisply, shattering the silence of the night.

"Boss, three bowls of beef noodles, extra spicy." Lei Chen flopped down into a seat by the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the tabletop. The cuffs of his police uniform were still stained with mud from the crime scene, taking on a dark brown hue under the light.

Wen Rou sat opposite Li Rui, wearily rubbing her temples. Her ponytail was slightly loose, and a few stray strands of hair fell beside her cheeks, making her complexion look even paler.

The wall clock in the shop pointed to eleven o'clock, the ticking of the second hand exceptionally clear in the quietness.

"Running late again today." Li Rui glanced at his watch, his voice tinged with apology. His gaze swept over the dark circles under Wen Rou's eyes, remembering that she had worked continuously for eight hours in the autopsy room today.

When the noodles were served, a layer of bright red chili oil floated on the steaming broth. Lei Chen wolfed his food down, broth splashing onto the table without him even noticing. Wen Rou sipped the noodle soup in small sips, then suddenly stopped her chopsticks. "Li Rui, look at this."

She pointed to the chopped green onions floating in the noodle broth. Under the light, those tiny green fragments actually reminded her of the plant fibers found at the crime scene. Li Rui followed her gaze, his brow furrowing slightly.

The television in the shop was broadcasting the evening news, the female anchor's voice echoing through the empty noodle shop: "...The police are making all-out efforts to hunt down the serial killer..."

Lei Chen put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth. "If this case isn't solved soon, we'll be forced to eat midnight snacks here every single day."

Li Rui did not reply. His gaze fell outside the window. At the end of the street, a streetlight flickered, much like the elusive clues left behind by the killer during his crimes.

The wall clock in the noodle shop pointed to half-past eleven, the ticking second hand seemingly urging something forward.

"Let's go," Li Rui stood up. "We have to get up early tomorrow."

Fatigue laced his voice, but his gaze remained resolute.

The light of the noodle shop cast the shadows of the three figures long upon the wall, gradually merging into the night.

None of them knew that at this very moment, a terrifying figure had already quietly infiltrated Zhangqiao Village.

An hour and a half later, Li Rui was lying on the office sofa. At the adjacent desk, Wen Rou had already fallen asleep with her head pillowed on her arms.

"Tap, tap, tap." A hasty knock on the door startled them both awake simultaneously.

Lei Chen ran in, panting heavily. "You two, I'm afraid you won't be sleeping tonight!"

"Another incident?" Wen Rou asked instinctively.

"He's killed again," Lei Chen said gravely. "Zhangqiao Village."

Li Rui put on his coat and said to Wen Rou, "I'll go this time. You get some rest first!"

"I couldn't possibly sleep," Wen Rou said, finishing adjusting her clothes. "Don't forget, I'm the deputy head of the special investigation team. How can I not set an example at a time like this?"

Lei Chen smiled awkwardly. "I knew I definitely couldn't persuade Director Wen, which is why I came straight to call you both along."

"Forget it," Li Rui snorted coldly and headed straight out.

The screech of a police siren pierced the night sky, red and blue lights flashing through the curtain of rain.

Li Rui gripped the steering wheel tightly. The windshield wipers beat frantically, yet they still could not keep pace with the torrential downpour. Ahead lay a sharp turn; he instinctively decelerated.

Right at that moment, a black figure suddenly appeared. The glaring beam of the headlights pierced the rain curtain, illuminating a pale face—a face so utterly ordinary that it would vanish instantly if tossed into a crowd. Yet those eyes remained as calm as a deep pool under the harsh light, without the slightest ripple.

In the fraction of a second when the car and the person crossed paths, time seemed to freeze.

Li Rui's gaze met the stranger's, and he saw the corners of the man's mouth curve upward slightly, revealing an indistinct smile. There was no panic in that smile, no fear, only a composure that bordered on cruelty.

"Li Rui, what is it?" Wen Rou, in the back seat, sensed his abnormality.

Li Rui shook his head and pressed down on the accelerator again. In the rearview mirror, that person had already vanished into the curtain of rain.

"U-turn!" At that moment, recalling something, he slammed on the brakes hard. "That person just now was suspicious!"

The police car made a sharp turn on the slippery road, the tires emitting a harsh screech against the pavement. But by the time they raced back to the intersection, the black figure was long gone.

The rain fell heavier and heavier, washing away the footprints on the ground as if attempting to erase the last traces left behind by the killer.

Li Rui gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. He knew he had just brushed past a demon. And that smile would become a recurring nightmare in countless sleepless nights to come.

As for that demon, he was now heading north overnight, once again vanishing from the police's field of vision.

When he resurfaced, it was already the afternoon of the 28th, at a location over two hundred miles away from Yexian in Shangcai County.

The chilly November wind, laden with frost grains, swept across the gullies of the eastern Henan plain. The short man crouched behind the concrete pier of the Shaodian Town bus station, his index finger unconsciously rubbing the fruit knife sheath in his trouser pocket.

As dusk gathered, the chill deepened. He dragged his exhausted body through the streets and alleys of Shaodian Town. His stomach growled with hunger, his throat felt as dry as smoke, and his legs felt as heavy as if filled with lead. At that moment, he longed for a hot meal, a bowl of warming soup, and a comfortable bed to let his weary body and mind find some respite.

Yet in this unfamiliar town, he dared not rashly step across the threshold of any household. The closely packed houses and passing pedestrians made him feel as though needles were pricking his back, terrified that a single misstep would leave him trapped with no way out.

In the distance, the lights of thousands of homes flickered on one by one. Bustling sounds drifted from the taverns, the shouts of finger-guessing drinking games rising and falling in succession. He stood in the shadows, gazing at those warm lights and listening to the uninhibited laughter, as a surge of irrepressible jealousy welled up in his heart.

Why should they be able to enjoy peace and security while he was left homeless like a stray dog?

Why should they be able to eat and drink to their heart's content while he could not even find a single filling meal?

Why should they be carefree and leisurely while he had to skulk and hide in the dark like a light-shunning wild dog?

The myriad lights of the dusk refracted into distorted splotches of light within his bloodshot eyes, while the aroma of mutton soup and the sounds of drinking games drifting from the tavern pierced his stomach.

"It seems I have no choice but to kill someone tonight!"

As the last sliver of daylight sank below the horizon, he spat out a chewed-up stalk of wheat and headed east along the dirt country road.

The moonlight, like a rusted blade, carved his hunchbacked shadow onto the cracked, frozen earth. At two in the morning, the tile-roofed house belonging to Gao Mingyu in Gaojiayao Village stood abruptly in the cold night, the icicles hanging from the eaves reflecting a eerie blue, cold light.

The Gao family courtyard faced east; the courtyard wall was low and lacked a main gate. He thought viciously: "Tonight, it'll be this house."

He skimmed along the wall like a gecko. The creaking sound made as the blade slid into the door crack woke the tricycle in the main room. Napa cabbages gleamed pale green in the moonlight, and the pungent scent of garlic and ginger mingled with the smell of blood as it pierced his nostrils.

"This family probably runs a small business; they're bound to have money." The short man grew excited.

The moment the iron hammer rose and fell, the old scar on his wrist throbbed—it had been scraped by a door frame while stealing things in Yexian last year, and had now healed into a centipede-like scar.

Five bodies grew gradually cold on the cord bed. When he lifted the young girl's floral-printed padded jacket, the moonlight happened to sweep across the window lattice, illuminating a pale blue birthmark near her collarbone, shaped much like a withered ginkgo leaf. It reminded him of the night his neighbor's younger sister got married, when her wedding dress slipped down to reveal the very same kind of mark upon her neck.