“But isn’t this killer a bit too cruel?” The moving finger stopped at the fatal wound—the severed head. The corners of the mouth, covered by a hand, curled up slightly. The man gave an almost imperceptible smile. “To actually bite off the victim’s head in one go—this guy doesn’t even have the slightest sense of ‘dining’ etiquette…” He sighed and stood up again, leaving behind words that no one understood.

Turning around, he squeezed through the crowded throng and entered the compartment of a police van not far away.

Inside, the director of the city public security bureau—a fat, middle-aged man—was wiping cold sweat from his forehead, stamping his feet as he waited. When he saw the middle-aged man board the vehicle, a smile immediately appeared on his face, like a client seeing a prostitute.

“Bennett sir, have you already examined the body? Any findings?” the director asked respectfully.

“What findings could there be? In a moment, you’ll get more detailed information from those coroners. Why bother asking me?” The man called Bennett still hadn’t put down the white handkerchief covering his mouth and nose. Apparently, it wasn’t just for the corpse—did living people disgust him just as much?

“What I mean is, could this case be handed over to your department? You know, discovering thirteen headless corpses at once—the social pressure alone is more than our agency can bear…” The director looked so troubled he was almost about to shed tears and snot to win sympathy. His tone was no different from a shrewd businessman negotiating a deal, except the stars on his shoulders shone especially bright.

“Count yourself lucky—this case really isn’t something you can handle. It’s now under the jurisdiction of our Paranormal Investigation Division. Your job is to fully cooperate. First, give me an office, and then lend me your phone.” With a faint sigh, Bennett didn’t seem fulfilled by having work to do—after all, having work meant someone had already died…

“Of course, of course!” The fat director nodded excitedly, like a pecking chick, and quickly pulled out the latest Samsung slider phone from his pocket, handing it to Bennett.

“Look at how fat you are, and you still use such a nice gadget. I bet you don’t skimp on taking bribes, do you?” Skillfully dialing a number, Bennett’s words were sharp, but the director could only smile on the surface and curse inside—after all, he needed a favor.

“Harvey, bring the gear and the guys to Wuhan, it’s ‘go time’…” As soon as Bennett finished announcing the start of the job, he immediately held the phone a meter away from his ear, as if he were holding some toxic waste. On the other end came a piercing cheer—even the director standing nearby was startled by the shouting.

“Sorry, I usually don’t have time to discipline them…” Smiling, he hung up and opened the text message mode, simply typing “It’s go time” and sending it out.

All that was left was to wait…

A full five minutes passed before the phone emitted a sound like a girl climaxing.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It must have been my son playing with it again yesterday!!” the flustered director shouted in explanation, the sweat he’d just wiped off now reappearing—this time from “embarrassment.”

“It’s fine, I like it.” Bennett didn’t seem to mind, opening the message. The reply was quite straightforward: “Not in the mood, recuperating ING…”

“This time it’s really serious. If you don’t come, don’t regret it later…” After sending the reply, Bennett put away the phone—not returning it to the director, but slipping it into his own pocket, leaving the director nothing but bewilderment…

“Sorry, since I just used this number to contact my subordinates, I’ll ‘borrow’ your phone for now, so I can wait for their call. Also, here’s a list of the office supplies I need…” As he spoke, Bennett took a white envelope from the pocket where he’d put the phone and handed it to the director.

Curious, the director opened it and, after glancing at just two lines, began gulping nervously and unconsciously reading aloud, “Ten BenQ LCD computers, five color inkjet printers, twenty MP4 phones, five luxury sports cars (red only), ten jin of Dongding Oolong tea. Various firearms, various ammunition, various emergency medical supplies…”

“Bennett sir, this… this… this is just too much, isn’t it?!” The director’s hand holding the list was trembling.

“If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” Bennett’s tone was calm—the epitome of a gentleman.

“What’s with the computers, phones, sports cars, even tea? Are these really things you need for an investigation?” The director’s tone wasn’t a question, but a retort. “To be blunt, even though I need your help, your asking price is a bit much, isn’t it? How is this different from robbery? Besides, we’re all public servants working for the people—where am I supposed to get the money for all this?”