Chapter 23 - 23 23 Special Gameplay

23: Chapter 23 Special Gameplay 23: Chapter 23 Special Gameplay Noon. After freshening up and taking a brief nap at home, Jiang Yuan immediately rushed back to the criminal police brigade. As he entered the yard, he could feel the heavy atmosphere. Several officers of the second level, who were at home, had deeply furrowed brows and whispered in grave tones. They hurried past, exhaustion evident in their eyes. Police ranks are different from military ranks. Below the white shirt, rank is generally not linked to leadership positions. This includes the bureau chief, for whom rank represents years of service. However, for the average police officer, high seniority often means being the main force. In major cases like murder, entrusting the case to the younger officers with a single stripe could make anyone uneasy. Jiang Yuan was one of those young officers with a single stripe, not even familiar with the dogs in the police station, with the possibility that the person he had spoken to most was perhaps the detective team leader, Huang Qiangmin. Wu Jun hadn’t returned yet, and not wanting to feel the pressure in the office, Jiang Yuan turned and headed straight for the police dog squad. Dazhuang, the police dog who had also been busy all day, was lying in front of his kennel, his ears drooping even lower than usual. Li Li was busy cooking in the kitchen, and through the windows, the door, and the reflection of the sunlight, one could see her graceful figure, elegant movements, and stunning long legs and slim waist. “Jiang Yuan?” Li Li eventually turned around, her Rottweiler-like face completely shattering the previous impression. “Woof.” The real Rottweiler, Dazhuang, also barked. “Dazhuang, sit.” Li Li waved her hand and then asked Jiang Yuan, “Did you guys stay up all night yesterday too?” Jiang Yuan replied, “I slept for an hour in the morning, didn’t feel like eating at the cafeteria, and thought of coming over to make some fried rice with egg.” Li Li laughed, her thick eyebrows noticeably bouncing as she responded, “That works out, make one for me too. I can’t even keep up with making dog food. I was just thinking about maybe just cooking an extra chicken drumstick...” Dazhuang’s eyeballs shifted towards Li Li, paused for a moment, then turned away again. “I’ll make the fried rice.” Jiang Yuan said, rolling up his sleeves and getting started. Uncle Seventeen’s fried rice was not only economical but also quick to make, giving off a vibe of a night market champion. Jiang Yuan quickly whipped up a pot of fried rice, and even made some tea with the kettle in the kitchen. The skill of brewing tea was a legacy of his new acquaintance, Xue Ming. However, as part of camping skills, the tea he made was nothing remarkable. “Hold on a moment, the dog food will be ready soon, too much meat, it takes time to cook.” Li Li explained. Jiang Yuan placed the fried rice on the table, took a few sips of tea, and asked, “Can I pet the dog?” “You might get bitten, but feel free to pet him if you’re not afraid.” Li Li, rolling up her sleeves, half-scared Jiang Yuan with her words. Li Li’s arms were actually quite attractive when seen without looking at her face. They gave the impression of a dancer’s arms: pale, glowing, slender, with some muscle definition. The several scars stood out, but upon closer inspection, they didn’t seem very deep, and held a certain seductive quality that could entice a man to become infatuated... Jiang Yuan used his forensic experience to assess the depth of the scars, which reassured him somewhat, and he said, “Then I’ll give it a try.” With that, Jiang Yuan stood beside Dazhuang, eager to begin. Seeing this, Li Li called out, “Dazhuang, let him pet you.” Dazhuang’s ears drooped instantly, his body sprawled, and his tail began to wag slowly. Jiang Yuan’s hand promptly covered Dazhuang’s forehead, and exerting a little pressure, the dog blissfully closed his eyes. There’s a saying: The Rottweiler, balding pooch, strokes so smooth, and fur so tough, although the hair is coarse, it glistens so, with teeth of pearly rows. “Trained ones really do feel different when you pet them.” Jiang Yuan praised. The dog could be fierce like a raging fire when provoked, but was as gentle as a fawning dog when calm, its bald head nuzzling and nudging, occasionally sticking out its tongue, adorably endearing. “Time for meal.” Li Li carried out a large bowl of dog food. Today’s dog meal included a generous amount of beef, each piece the size of a walnut, a reward for the police dog’s work the day before. In addition to that, the proportion of chicken meat and vegetables was also significant. The bowl was piled high, giving off the sense that the meal expenses had exceeded the usual budget. “I’ll get the fried rice.” Jiang Yuan conscientiously served the frugally-priced 0.8 yuan per serving of fried rice and poured a cup of tea for each of them. Then they started to gobble down the golden-brown fried rice and sipped their tea ravenously. Meanwhile, the Rottweiler next to them ate its meal, bite by bite. It looked neither fully enjoying it nor willing to give it up, like a dog who had sacrificed a lot, perhaps had resisted, but had ultimately been tamed. Feeling sorry for the dog, Jiang Yuan said to Li Li, “I made too much rice today, should we give some to Dazhuang? I only used oil and eggs, very little seasoning...” “If you can’t finish, give it to me, fried rice is not for dogs.” Li Li nonchalantly pushed away Jiang Yuan’s excess fried rice and ate it heartily. Jiang Yuan could only stroke Dazhuang’s head again before finishing his meal and heading back to his office. Wu Jun had actually arrived and was squatting in front of a small electric stove, boiling something while rubbing his eyes. He was getting on in years, and staying up all night on duty was very exhausting, let alone performing an autopsy. “Jiang Yuan is here.” Wu Jun greeted. “I went to the dog squad to make some fried rice, have you eaten?” Jiang Yuan asked. “Ate a little, don’t feel like eating more. My stomach’s not great.” Wu Jun said, motioning with his hand, “Let’s not bother with anything else, just have a red-boiled egg.” He blew on his breath, scooped a red-dyed egg with a spoon, set it on the table, and gestured for Jiang Yuan to take it. Jiang Yuan asked without surprise, “What’s the tradition here?” “Eating a red egg after seeing a dead body wards off evil spirits. Nothing special.” Wu Jun also scooped a red egg for himself, cracked it open, and set it upright on the table. When the egg had cooled a bit, Jiang Yuan also cracked his egg, slowly peeled it, and ate it. The boiled egg tasted perfectly ordinary, leaving behind a pile of red shells. “Back when crime scenes had bodies, the canteen would always cook red eggs,” Wu Jun said as he ate. “Why stop?” “Too many dead, the canteen found it a hassle,” Wu Jun said. “Now the homicides have decreased, but unnatural deaths have increased, either falling from heights or consuming pesticide.” Wu Jun finished the red egg in a few bites and added, “We’d better hurry and organize the materials. We’ve got a busy day ahead. If we can’t find any leads, don’t expect to sleep tonight.” “Okay,” Jiang Yuan said, his mood becoming heavier. The pressure to solve cases was suffocating the criminal investigation team at this moment. The so-called golden 72 hours for homicide cases refers to the crucial first three days from the onset of an investigation, which is when the probability of solving the case is highest. There’s considerable scientific basis for this. On one hand, the shorter the time lapse, the more crime scene traces and physical evidence remain, making it easier to find various clues and connections to the case. Including eyewitnesses and informants, their memories tend to be most clear and accurate within the first 72 hours, deteriorating rapidly thereafter. On the other hand, during the first three days after the crime, the perpetrator is most active and psychologically vulnerable. Whether they made preparations before the crime or how well-prepared they were, their psyche, during the first three days following the crime, is always greatly affected. Anticipating the potential consequences, the criminal may try to cover up, hide, or even inquire about the crime, resulting in substantial interaction with the outside world and being the easiest to catch; past this time, the emotions and psyche of the criminal gradually stabilize, hiding places get fixed, etc. Even if the suspect is identified, arresting and interrogating them becomes more challenging. Moreover, the fatigue level of the police officers handling the case accumulates over time. In today’s environment, solving a homicide case comes with mounting pressure. Officers directly involved in investigations are typically working overnight. After two or three days of such persistence, fatigue reaches its peak. If a suspect is apprehended within three days, the officers, gritting their teeth, can continue through the interrogation. But if they can’t catch anyone, their morale plummets, and recovering takes exponentially more time. For a recent homicide in Ningtai County, 24 hours had passed without finding any new leads, a disconcerting trend. “The DNA from the hair was sent for assistance, but the results weren’t good,” Wang Zhong, who got the news first, quietly came to the forensic doctor’s office. Jiang Yuan and Wu Jun both looked over. Wang Zhong spoke in a low voice, “There’s a match from the provincial DNA lab. But there is an alibi. She works in a KTV, handled by the Public Order Brigade previously, and she was out of town with a client at the time of the crime.” “If she was out of town with a client, how could her pubic hair end up on the victim’s groin?” Jiang Yuan thought for a moment and asked the key question. Wang Zhong chuckled softly, “She was with the victim in the morning, took 500 yuan. Then she drove to the provincial city. We’ve also got photos from the traffic police; it’s her driving on the highway, and moreover, there are witnesses in the car with her...” “Such a comprehensive alibi?” Wu Jun, a bit curious, followed up, “Was she delivering takeout, bringing witnesses along?” “Two people, 2000 each,” Wang Zhong held up two fingers. Wu Jun clucked, “What a difference between the county and the provincial city, quadrupling the price.” “Special services cost extra,” Wang Zhong corrected. Wu Jun shook his head, “Times have changed. Nowadays, I’m partnered with Xiao Jiang. Every time we go out together, our pay doesn’t increase by a cent.” Wang Zhong couldn’t keep up, he turned stiffly to look at Jiang Yuan, then said, “Checks at her workplace and residence didn’t yield anything. No matching fingerprints or traces found. The video surveillance around the old residential area where the victim lived isn’t plentiful either, no useful footage has been found, and the investigation into the relatives isn’t complete, but I don’t expect much there either...” “So what now?” Jiang Yuan’s focus was still on the case, his second homicide, which still evoked a strong sense of involvement from him. Wang Zhong was silent for a moment before saying, “From what I hear, the current investigative direction remains starting from the victim’s social connections; the final outcome is hard to predict... However, if there are no results by tonight, there will probably be a full deployment.” The Ningtai County Public Security Bureau didn’t have so-called detectives or crack investigators boasting sky-high case-solving records. Confronting cases, they all employed standard procedures. If there was anything like a big gun, it would be the human wave tactic. In large cities, even if solving a live homicide case is difficult, the most that is usually done is to set up a task force and call in some personnel, topping out at a few dozen or a hundred people. But in small county towns, a live homicide is the top priority, and deploying a thousand officers to investigate is normal—it’s not examining a thousand people, but dispatching over a thousand staff to investigate. If necessary, they could take DNA from everyone at a university. At such times, it’s not just the criminal investigation team; from local police stations to agency staff, all would be deployed, with some bureaus even borrowing personnel from other units. Jiang Yuan frowned slightly. To carry out a search meant becoming basic labor. With his LV4 crime scene investigation skills, he could potentially be the strongest on-site investigator in the county, and he ought to choose a direction most likely to yield clues. “Let’s do a reexamination,” Jiang Yuan volunteered. A repeat investigation was a natural duty for crime scene investigators and a basic requirement for forensic doctors to revisit the scene. Jiang Yuan remembered the previous investigators’ operations and already had a plan in mind. The crime scene officers from the same squadron, whether in terms of technical skill or dedication, were all average. With Jiang Yuan’s LV4 crime scene investigation skills, he was bound to uncover something missed. Although he wasn’t sure whether these places held clues, his sense of duty involuntarily swelled in the face of a stalling investigation.