Good and Evil Chapter Forty Another Murder Case

High-intelligence crime is a contest of wits, a race against time, and a struggle between life and death.

When Xu Lang drove onto Sunrise Road, officers from the local police station had already cordoned off the area around the two public restrooms nearby. After getting out of his car and making inquiries, Xu Lang learned that a woman's body had been found in the female restroom of the first public facility—the victim was Qi Lan.

Upon entering the scene, Xu Lang found Qi Lan's corpse in the innermost stall of the women's restroom. The body was suspended in a half-sitting, half-hanging position inside the stall; a belt was looped tightly around her neck, its buckle hooked over a coat hook on the stall divider. Judging from its style, the belt appeared to be a woman's, though whether it belonged to the victim or had been left by the killer required further investigation.

The victim’s arms hung limply at her sides. Her mouth was wide open, pupils dilated, eyes protruding—clear signs of asphyxiation. Through her gaping mouth, it was apparent that her tongue had also been cut out. The inside of her mouth was stained with fresh blood, though not much; it seemed the mutilation was done postmortem.

On the tiled wall opposite the body, the same blood-written English character appeared again.

The victim’s belongings were scattered at the scene: a black handbag, a pack of tissues, and a mobile phone. Nothing else noteworthy was found.

Xu Lang took a pair of gloves from his pocket, put them on, and briefly examined the contents of Qi Lan’s handbag. He found various women’s items: cosmetics, a small mirror, a comb, sanitary pads, a wallet, and so on.

Opening the wallet, he found a wad of cash—probably one or two thousand yuan—a bank card, several membership cards, two supermarket shopping cards, and an identification card. The ID photo bore a striking resemblance to the deceased—it was indeed Qi Lan’s.

After inspecting these items, Xu Lang left the stall. By then, Wu Yong had arrived at the scene.

Wu Yong’s first words upon seeing Xu Lang were, “She’s dead? Is the victim Qi Lan?”

Xu Lang removed his gloves, lit a cigarette, nodded calmly, and replied, “See for yourself.”

Wu Yong shot Xu Lang a glance, then hurried to the stall and looked inside. He paused for a moment, then stepped back out, walked over to Xu Lang, took the cigarette pack from his hand, lit one for himself, returned the pack, and as he smoked, said, “Looks like you were right.”

Xu Lang made no comment. Suddenly, something occurred to him; he tossed his cigarette aside, strode quickly to the restroom entrance, and asked a police officer, “Has anyone gone to Star Internet Café?”

One officer replied, “Someone’s already gone.”

“Get someone to take me over.”

Xu Lang slapped the officer on the shoulder, making him grimace, but the officer didn’t get angry. Instead, he quickly found a young policeman to escort Xu Lang to the Star Internet Café.

By the time Xu Lang arrived at the internet café, guided by the young officer, it was already past four in the morning. After getting out of the car, he looked up at the two-story building. The first floor was a tobacco and liquor shop, long since closed. Between the two floors glowed a neon logo reading “Star Internet Café,” though the first and third characters were unlit, making it read more like “Star Net.”

Xu Lang withdrew his gaze and went upstairs. As soon as he entered the stairwell, a foul odor hit his nose. He wrinkled his nose and kept going, without pause. The stairwell was pitch dark. Xu Lang had noticed a security camera when he entered, but its wires were old and frayed—useless. At the turn between floors, he saw a large pile of vomit. Xu Lang covered his nose and proceeded to the second floor.

The second floor had only a double glass door, standing open. From outside, Xu Lang could hear the whir of fans, the clatter of keyboards, and a chorus of curses coming from inside.

He entered the internet café to find two officers at the front desk, arguing with a young man with dyed red hair. Xu Lang walked over and asked, “What’s going on here?”

The three stopped their quarrel and turned to him. One officer eyed Xu Lang and asked, “And you are?”

Xu Lang ignored the question. “Where’s the surveillance footage?”

Before the officer could reply, the young policeman who’d escorted Xu Lang entered and stood obediently behind him, shooting meaningful glances at his colleagues.

The officer looked at the young man, then at Xu Lang, and repeated, “Who are you?”

Xu Lang frowned. “My name is Xu Lang. I’m asking you—where is the surveillance footage?”

“Xu Lang? Never heard of you,” the officer muttered, but then realization dawned. He straightened up, lost his arrogant air, and said, “We haven’t gotten the footage yet.”

“Why not?”

Faced with Xu Lang’s dark expression, the officer swallowed nervously, glanced at the red-haired youth, and said, “They won’t give it to us.”

Xu Lang’s frown deepened. He ignored the officer and confronted the red-haired youth, asking, “Where’s the café’s surveillance system?”

The youth glanced at Xu Lang, whistled, and turned his head away in disdain.

With a loud smack, Xu Lang slammed the youth’s head onto the counter. He enunciated each word: “Where is the surveillance footage?”

Though his head was pinned to the counter, the youth’s tone was defiant. He glared up at Xu Lang and spat, “I don’t know.”

Before he could finish, Xu Lang grabbed the boy’s large earring and tugged. “Now do you know?”

“It hurts! Let go! Damn it, let go! You’re killing me! Shit—”

The youth cursed and begged in turn.

Xu Lang’s patience had run out. He dragged the red-haired youth behind the counter, found two computers—one displaying the café’s surveillance feeds—smashed the youth’s head against the counter, then released him and started reviewing the footage.

The officer who’d first asked Xu Lang’s identity stood dumbfounded. Xu Lang’s reputation was legendary in S City’s police circles: the youngest police star, a model officer—as of three months ago, at least. To the public, especially victims of his cases, he was a modern Judge Bao, an exemplary cop. To the city’s idlers and hoodlums, Xu Lang was a cop even more intimidating than the criminals themselves.

He’d always been rumored to use simple and brutal methods on the job. Seeing it firsthand, the officer realized it was no exaggeration.

Xu Lang ignored the onlookers and rewound the footage two hours. He sat in the red-haired youth’s chair, eyes fixed on the screen.

The previously rowdy café fell silent as Xu Lang entered. The keyboard clatter ceased; heads turned toward the counter. A few shirtless youths with tattoos—dragons, tigers, kaleidoscopic patterns—stood up when the red-haired youth was knocked down. But when Xu Lang glanced up, his stern gaze made them all sit down again.

The computer displayed four camera feeds: one at the entrance, one at the counter, and two in the main hall. Only two were operational: the counter and one corner of the hall, which covered only a fraction of the café. There were no cameras in the booths—small rooms partitioned by panels.

Xu Lang watched the counter footage, his fingers moving the greasy mouse, fast-forwarding.

At 1:35 a.m., a figure appeared at the counter: sunglasses, a black mask, hooded sweatshirt. The person handed over a hundred yuan, said something to the red-haired youth, who then produced an ID card, swiped it, wrote a string of numbers on a slip of paper, and handed it over. The customer took the note and walked to a booth out of camera view.

Xu Lang paused the video and nudged the red-haired youth, who was still playing dead on the floor. “Enough. Get up and look at this.”

The youth didn’t move. Xu Lang stood and asked the two officers, “Got an electric baton?”

The three officers exchanged glances. The young officer who’d accompanied Xu Lang said, “I have one.”

“Give it to me.”

As the officer reached for his baton, the red-haired youth scrambled to his feet and hurried to Xu Lang, face eager. “Officer, whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Xu Lang pointed at the figure on the screen. “Who is this?”

The youth glanced at the screen. “That guy…”

Xu Lang waited expectantly.

“I don’t know.”

Xu Lang scowled and reached for the electric baton. The young officer handed it over; Xu Lang flicked it on, and the crackle of electricity made everyone sweat.

“Brother—no, officer—no, sir, let me think!” The youth forced a flattering smile despite Xu Lang’s grim expression and the threatening sound of the baton.

Xu Lang stared at him coldly.

The youth closed his eyes in concentration. “I remember now.”

Xu Lang nodded for him to go on.

Around 1:30 a.m., the youth had been gaming at the counter when someone walked in, looked around, and came to the desk asking for a computer. The youth, distracted, quoted the rates: member—1.3 yuan per hour; non-member—3 yuan; overnight—6.

The customer said nothing, just handed over a hundred yuan. “Set me up with a computer; the rest is yours.”

The implication was clear: use an ID card to register the person. The café was a black-market operation, often providing minors with internet access. There was a stack of IDs in the drawer.

The youth took the cash, registered a machine with a random ID, credited it for the night, wrote the number and password on a slip of paper, and went back to his game.

Xu Lang asked, “Was it a man or a woman? What did they look like?”

The youth frowned. “Probably a man… or maybe a woman.”

“You can’t even tell that?” one officer snapped.

The youth shot him a disdainful look. “Sunglasses, mask, hood—how should I know?”

“But you must’ve heard their voice?” Xu Lang pressed.

“Voice…” the youth considered. “Very neutral—sounded male.”

“A man?”

Xu Lang frowned.

“Oh, right—when I handed over the slip, I noticed the person’s hand was very slender, like a woman’s.”

As Xu Lang pondered this, the youth added, “He sat right there.”

He pointed to one of the booths.

Xu Lang got up, stepped out from behind the counter, and headed over.