342: Chapter 342 Tracking the Devil, Urban Beauty

The air in the old apartment building always floated with an indelible smell of mildew.

Peels of wall paint flaked off in patches, revealing the dull grey cement beneath.

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Small flyers for "Infertility Treatment" and "Locksmith & Plumbing Services" were haphazardly plastered over it like psoriasis clinging to the building.

A solitary incandescent bulb hung at the entrance of the stairwell, casting a dim, yellowish light.

It flickered from time to time, casting shadows onto the wall and distorting them out of shape.

*Ding—*

The elevator stopped on the seventh floor, its old iron grate door creaking loudly as it slid open with difficulty.

The grinding sound echoed through the quiet hallway, sounding particularly harsh.

A scantily clad woman staggered out of the elevator.

Her tight camisole and bodycon mini-skirt accentuated her graceful curves.

The smell of alcohol and cheap perfume instantly mingled into the hallway air.

Her face was still flushed with drunkenness; she had clearly just been drinking at a nightclub and was only now returning home.

The high heels on her feet tapped against the floor, making a crisp yet somewhat chaotic "click-clack" sound.

At this moment, however, she was completely oblivious.

Right in the shadow around the corner of the hallway...

...a pair of eyes emerged from the darkness, staring intently at her retreating back.

The woman swayed as she walked deeper down the hallway and stopped in front of a door.

Then, she fumbled around in her bag and pulled out a keyring.

They clinked and jingled loudly against each other.

Seemingly taking quite a bit of effort, she finally aligned the key with the keyhole and unlocked the door.

With a "clack,"

the woman quickly stepped inside, and the door shut behind her, cutting off everything from the outside world.

In the corner, those eyes remained locked on the spot where the woman had vanished.

Deep inside the pupils, an unusually eerie red gleam flickered faintly.

It was as if a man-eating beast was lurking there, waiting to devour its prey.

About half a minute later, a figure stepped silently out of the corner.

A large black raincoat completely enveloped his body, with the hood pulled down low.

Rainwater that had not yet dripped clean trickled down the hem of his coat, leaving a few tiny water spots on the dusty floor.

The figure walked down the long corridor, his steps as light as a wildcat's.

Most of the lights here were broken; only one or two in the distance were still lit.

The light was faint, barely outlining the closed doors on either side.

From behind the doors came various sounds from the residents—the noise of TV programs and the intermittent crying of a baby.

As the figure passed under a working bulb, the dim yellow light vaguely illuminated the white mask worn on his face.

Ferocious and terrifying, it resembled an evil demon.

Beneath the mask, Fang Cheng's eyes were sharp as he stared at the end of the hallway swallowed by darkness.

This apartment building had been built in the Early Stage of the Republic of China era; it was ten stories high with a spiral layout.

All the facilities exuded a sense of decay and age, let alone having any surveillance equipment installed.

No wonder the target figure, Scorpion, chose to hide here.

The intelligence provided by Chen Chen was only a general range without a specific room number.

Therefore, he could only use the most primitive process of elimination, observing in advance from the roof opposite to narrow down the target scope to a few suspicious residents.

Now, Fang Cheng stood on the seventh floor, his eyes locked onto the door plaque marked "709."

Just ten-odd minutes ago, he had personally watched the lights in this room go out.

No matter how one looked at it, this was the most suspicious place.

Fang Cheng quietly walked up to the door without taking immediate action.

Instead, he closed his eyes slightly, amplifying his sensory perception.

Invisible ripples spread out in all directions, penetrating the thick door panel and reaching into the darkness.

All noise from the surrounding residents was filtered out, leaving only the sounds coming from the room in front of him.

However...

Inside the room was dead silence; not even the faintest sound of breathing or heartbeat could be detected.

Right after that, an unusual odor caught Fang Cheng's sense of smell like an invisible hook.

Mixed into the hallway's inherent smell of mildew, it was extremely faint and weak, yet carried a pungent bite.

It was like salted fish over-exposed to the sun by the sea, giving off a fishy, stinky odor.

This smell might be hard for an ordinary person to notice or identify.

But Fang Cheng could perceive it clearly.

This was definitely not something a normal resident should have.

Frowning slightly, Fang Cheng reached out and gently pushed the door.

The door didn't budge at all; it was locked tight.

He then lowered his head and took a look at the old keyhole.

Without a moment's hesitation, Fang Cheng reached inside his raincoat and pulled out a Phillips screwdriver.

Then he steadily aligned the pointed tip of the screwdriver with the keyhole and slowly inserted it.

One hand gripped the cold door handle tightly to stabilize the door, while the other firmly grasped the handle of the screwdriver.

His ears sharply caught the distant roar of a car speeding down the street outside.

Right now!

Fang Cheng instantly applied force through his arm, shoving the screwdriver inward violently to smash through the lock cylinder's internal pins with brute force.

*Clack!*

An extremely muffled cracking sound came from inside the lock cylinder.

It was almost perfectly masked by the roaring noise from the street outside.

Holding the handle of the screwdriver, Fang Cheng then gave his wrist a steady twist.

All the pins were forcefully forced out of position, and the feeling of resistance vanished instantly.

Freed from obstruction, the lock cylinder turned smoothly.

*Screeech—*

The door was pushed open slowly, revealing the scene inside.

Fang Cheng walked straight in without deliberately lowering his footsteps.

If the resident in the room was truly the target, Scorpion...

...then with the extraordinary vigilance recorded in the intelligence, even the faintest sound from picking the lock would have been enough to awaken him from deep sleep and prepare him for battle.

The reason Fang Cheng hadn't chosen the more direct approach of kicking down the door to charge in...

...was simply that he didn't want to alert the surrounding ordinary residents before confirming his target.

The inside of the room was pitch-black; heavy curtains blocked out all light from the streetlamps outside, creating an isolated, claustrophobic atmosphere.

But this had no effect on Fang Cheng.

In his vision, every object in the dark was sharply outlined and clearly visible.

It was a standard three-bedroom, one-living-room apartment; the furnishings were very simple, unexpectedly clean, and neat to the point of being rigid.

Fang Cheng's eyes swept across every inch of space like a hawk, his powerful perception searching for any enemy that might be lurking in the dark.

At the same time, his muscles coiled like a python, tense to the extreme, ready to deliver a fatal blow at any moment.

According to the intelligence, the target was suspected of possessing invisibility abilities, so he had to maintain maximum vigilance at all times.

Living room, kitchen, bathroom...

Fang Cheng quickly walked a full lap around the apartment.

In the end, only the closed bedroom door remained unopened.

That faint, lingering stinky fish odor was coming from inside.

Scorpion was likely hiding inside as well.

Fang Cheng tested no further; he immediately strode toward the bedroom, lifted his leg, and kicked hard against the door panel.

*Bang!*

The fragile wooden door and its lock blew inward as if struck by a cannonball.

Wooden splinters and fragments flew everywhere instantly.

Operative stealth and covert assassination were not Fang Cheng's forte.

At a time like this, more direct and violent means had to be used to deal with the target.

As the door burst open, the scene inside the bedroom immediately came into view.

A few wardrobes, a desk, and a desk lamp on top.

Beside it scattered several erotic magazines with explicit covers.

Fang Cheng's gaze swept across quickly.

Finally, it locked onto the bed in the center of the room.

A white gauze canopy draped over the bed; through the hazy netting, a faint human outline could be seen lying quietly inside.

The odor pervading the air was emanating directly from that source.

Fang Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly and walked over step by step.

He didn't hear any heartbeat or breathing.

Even before reaching out to pull aside the thin gauze, he was already certain that what lay on the bed was a corpse.

The reality was just as he expected.

Underneath the abruptly pulled thin veil was a terrifyingly withered corpse.

The corpse's former appearance was completely unrecognizable; skin clung tightly to the bones like air-dried cured meat.

The eye sockets were deeply sunken into two black holes, and the mouth was stretched open wide in agony.

It was as if she had been in a state of extreme terror before death, desperately begging the killer for mercy.

Fang Cheng softly exhaled a breath of turbid air.

The appearance of this mummified corpse was truly... too tragic.

One could only vaguely tell she was female from certain bodily features.

She appeared to have been dead for a long time.

But strangely, there were no signs of natural decay on the body, nor the stench typical of a corpse.

It was as if all the moisture and vitality in her body had been completely drained away by some force in an extremely short amount of time.

Fang Cheng carefully examined the mummified corpse, hoping to find some clues, but still came up empty-handed.

After all, he wasn't a professional forensic investigator, nor did he have any detection equipment on hand.

He then raised his head and carefully re-examined the entire room.

Now it was certain that aside from this corpse, there was no second living person in this room.

Just now, when Fang Cheng kicked open the door and entered, he had deliberately exposed flaws on his back several times while searching...

...precisely to bait Scorpion, who might be hiding in the dark using stealth.

But from beginning to end, the opponent never revealed himself.

"Could Chen Chen be lying to me..."

Fang Cheng muttered under his breath.

No.

The moment this thought surfaced, it was immediately dismissed.

Fang Cheng's eyes landed on the floor near the foot of the bed.

There lay a long-solidified, fingernail-sized drop of yellow, viscous liquid.

His eyes brightened. He squatted down, reached out a finger, and touched it cautiously.

Upon contact, a burning sting flared up on his skin, as if touched by concentrated sulfuric acid.

The skin on his fingertip slowly shriveled up; the moisture in his flesh seemed to be absorbed by the goo.

Fang Cheng's eyes hardened, and his True Qi surged.

His fingertip flared like a lighter, a wisp of red-gold flame igniting with a "whoosh."

Under the scorching flame, that uncanny drop of liquid instantly turned into a wisp of green smoke and disappeared completely.

"The person living here must be Scorpion, indeed..."

Fang Cheng stood up, his gaze shifting back to the desk.

A cup of coffee sat there; when he touched the side of the mug, it was still lukewarm.

The occupant of this room must have left not long ago.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the desk lamp's power cord.

Following the cord, he looked at the wall outlet in the corner.

Plugged in there was a white device with a knob, which appeared to be a timer.

Fang Cheng understood in an instant.

It was a timer switch used to control the bedroom lights; once set, it would automatically cut off the power.

Seeing the lights go out in this room earlier from the outside wasn't because the occupant went to bed, but because the timer triggered it.

This prey was indeed as cautious and cunning as rumored.

But the more cautious he was, the more it confirmed he had found the right target.

Fang Cheng walked over to the window and pulled open the heavy curtains in one swift motion.

Outside was equally dark and deep.

Cold rain tapped against the glass, pooling into streams that trickled down, blurring the view of the street below.

He looked out the window, his eyes flickering slightly.

According to the criminal profile in the case file, Scorpion had a habit of prowling on rainy nights, stalking young women to strike when opportunity arose.

After laying low for a long time, a serial killer like this usually experienced an uncontrollable impulse phase.

They would compulsively go out to search for new targets.

And tonight's rainy night was very likely his hunting time.

He could choose to stay, hide in this room, and wait for the target to walk into the trap upon returning to deliver a fatal strike.

Or...

Thinking up to this point, Fang Cheng abruptly turned his head and looked once more at the tragically dead female corpse on the bed.

Then he reached out, gently closing her wide-open, unblinking eyes, and said calmly:

"Rest easy. I'll make sure the killer is buried with you."

Having said this, he stayed no longer, turning toward the window and pushing it wide open.

In the next second, he leapt from the seventh-floor window without hesitation.

The black raincoat fluttered and danced in the night wind like a falcon spreading its wings, instantly disappearing into the dark curtain of rain.

...

JB District, Yingchun Road.

The neon sign for "Beauty Nightclub" diffused purplish-red halos through the veil of rain.

Like a giant beast lurking in the urban forest, opening its hazy eyes.

Even the rain could not extinguish the fanatical atmosphere here.

Heavy drumbeats penetrated the walls, weaving together with the pouring rain and vibrating the slick asphalt surface.

Cars briefly pulled up to the entrance one after another, dropping off or picking up stylishly dressed, attractive men and women.

Cheng Leyi's luck tonight was clearly not great.

She had been standing under the eaves for nearly ten minutes.

Taxis with "Occupied" red lights roared past her one after another, splashing water and forcing her to step back repeatedly.

She sighed irritably, put her phone away, and slipped it into her handbag.

Her home was only two streets away; walking back wouldn't take long.

Having made up her mind, she opened the transparent umbrella she had bought at a steep price outside the club and stepped into the rain.

An eye-catching red camisole dress wrapped around her shapely figure, her long, fair legs particularly striking in the night.

Her stiletto heels stepped on the flooded pavement, producing a crisp yet lonely "tap, tap" sound.

Silver tassel earrings swayed gently with her steps.

Together with the sequined handbag on her shoulder, they reflected the hazy midnight lights of the city.

Rounding the corner, the hustle and bustle was instantly left behind; the world seemed to have been put on mute.

This was a quiet side road, and most of the shops on both sides were already closed.

Only dim yellow streetlamps cast blurry circles of light in the rain.

Rain pitter-patter against the umbrella became the only background sound at this moment.

Cheng Leyi smoothed her long hair, ruffled by the wind, and continued forward.

Unbeknownst to her when it started, a strange sound mingled into the rain and her own footsteps.

It was an unhurried set of footsteps.

Also stepping in puddles, the sound was lower and stickier than her high heels.

It was like... someone dragging soaked boots while walking.

Step by step.

The rhythm was neither too close nor too far from her pace, like an inescapable shadow.

Cheng Leyi's heart sank abruptly.

Her fingers gripping the umbrella and handbag involuntarily tightened, her knuckles turning slightly white.

Is someone following me? (End of Chapter)