6: Chapter 6 The Morgue? That's a Feng Shui treasure land!

The three-day holiday came to an end.

Chen Mo, dressed in his brand-new police uniform, stood at the entrance of the 127th Precinct.

This red-brick building looked like a giant monster, devouring the city's sins and digesting newcomers like him.

Pushing the door open, a wave of noise rushed toward him.

The ringing of telephones, the clacking of typewriters, the cursing of suspects, and the shouting of police officers blended together, creating a symphony unique to the police station.

"Hey, look who it is? Our superhero has arrived."

Someone shouted, and the office area fell silent for a second, followed immediately by scattered applause and whistles.

In those gazes, there was curiosity, disdain, and, more than anything, a mocking sense of waiting to see a joke unfold.

A Chinese rookie still on probation stealing the spotlight from everyone was not a plus here.

Chen Mo maintained a stiff smile and walked straight to the Captain's office.

The office was filled with smoke, and the bald Captain had his feet propped up on the desk, holding a sandwich in his hand.

Murphy was sitting on the sofa nearby, twirling a pen in his hand; seeing Chen Mo enter, the corners of his mouth curled into a cold, sinister arc.

"Report! Intern Police Officer Robert Chen, reporting for duty!" Chen Mo stood at attention and saluted.

The Captain put down his sandwich, wiped the salad dressing from his mouth, and returned the salute perfunctorily: "Relax, Robert, sit."

"I've seen your medical report." The Captain picked up a piece of paper from the desk.

"Your injuries haven't fully healed? Young people need to take care of their health. You should know that street patrol is very intense; if you faint while on duty, not only will we have to pay compensation, but we'll also be torn apart by the media."

Chen Mo knew perfectly well what was going on—this was a way to sideline him.

"I will follow the department's arrangements." Chen Mo answered crisply.

"Very good." The Captain nodded with satisfaction and glanced at Murphy.

Murphy interjected: "Captain, I have a suggestion. The liaison officer at the Medical Examiner's Office resigned last week. That place is quiet, no need for field work, perfect for recuperating. Plus, Robert has just experienced life and death, so I think he must have a deeper... understanding of death?"

After finishing, Murphy let out a short, strange laugh.

"Liaison officer?" Chen Mo raised an eyebrow.

In the NYPD, this was universally recognized as a "dumping ground."

The so-called liaison officer was essentially just a gofer for the medical examiner, responsible for moving corpses, organizing files, and even enduring the stench of decay.

It was a place where exiled police officers ended up; there was no room for promotion, no extra perks, only the dead.

"What? You're not willing?" Murphy leaned forward, aggressive, "This is to take care of your health."

The office door wasn't closed tightly, and the officers outside pricked up their ears; some couldn't help but snicker.

Throwing a "hero" who had just performed a meritorious deed into the morgue—this move was truly vicious; this was the consequence of offending Murphy.

Chen Mo looked at Murphy's smug face, but inside, a surge of wild joy welled up.

If he had to go on patrol, he would still have to find a way to touch corpses. Going to the Medical Examiner's Office? Wasn't that like a mouse falling into a rice jar?

All the bodies from unnatural deaths in the entire jurisdiction would be sent there!

That was his gold mine!

Chen Mo took a deep breath, putting on a perfectly calibrated expression of "humiliation" and "helplessness," and said through gritted teeth: "Thank you for your... consideration, Sir. I accept."

"Then go." The Captain waved his hand as if shooing away a fly, "Don't forget to go to the logistics department to get the key to your new locker."

Chen Mo turned and walked out of the office.

In the locker room, a few white patrol officers deliberately blocked the middle of the aisle.

"Yo, isn't this our 'Morgue Supervisor'?"

A burly man slammed his shoulder into Chen Mo, "I heard you're going to be sleeping with the dead? Don't forget to say hello to them for me."

Chen Mo stumbled but steadied himself. He looked up and noted down the badge numbers of these men: 1567, 8902, 3314.

"I will." Chen Mo replied indifferently, his calm tone causing the burly man to freeze for a moment, inexplicably feeling a chill run down his spine.

After getting the key, Chen Mo walked through the noisy office area, followed the stairs all the way down, until he reached the basement floor.

The air became cold and damp, and the smell of formalin mixed with an indescribable musty odor drilled into his nostrils.

At the end of the corridor was a heavy iron door.

Chen Mo reached out and pushed the door open.

The light inside was very dim, with only a single yellowish desk lamp lit. Rows of cold storage cabinets stood like silent beasts, quietly looming in the darkness.

In the corner of the room, an old man with gray hair, wearing a white lab coat, stood with his back to him, holding a sandwich in his hand, chewing away while facing a half-autopsied corpse.

Hearing the door open, the old man didn't turn around; his voice was as hoarse as two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

"The new unlucky bastard?"

The old man turned around, his eyes cloudy yet glinting with an eerie light, his hands stained with a red substance that could have been ketchup or blood.

"I hope you can last longer than the last one; the 'residents' here don't like to talk much."

Chen Mo looked at the room full of corpses and the eccentric man in front of him, and finally, he couldn't help but let his mouth curve slightly upward.

"I think we'll get along just fine."

He closed the door, shutting out the noise from outside.

[High concentration of death aura detected.]

[Current environment meets the optimal conditions for "Entry Extraction."]

[Welcome to your kingdom, Corpse Collector.]