The city on a rainy night is like a sleepless behemoth, with metallic dampness in the air. The lights in the conference room of the police station's major crime team were too bright, and the cold white fluorescent tubes shone on everyone's faces, making them look a little pale.
The heavy curtains were not closed, and outside the glass window, raindrops were beating densely, and the water marks slowly slid down the glass, as if countless distorted shadows were crawling. Inside the house, several wooden tables were put together, filled with photos, transcripts, and physical evidence bags from the crime scene. The air was mixed with the smell of paper, cold coffee grounds, and the faint smell of ink emanating from the ballpoint pen in Su Mo's hand.
Lin Yuanzhou didn't speak, he half-lowered his head, but his eyes were fixed on the thick notebook on the table. It was one of the objects on the desk of the deceased Han Zhuo, which was classified as an "irrelevant clue" at the time. Because after looking through it, there was almost no writing in it, only a few pages of scattered scribbled symbols, and more of them were blank.
However, at this moment, Lin Yuanzhou intuitively told him that there was something extremely important hidden in this seemingly worthless notebook.
He gently swept over the cover with his fingertips, slightly rough to the touch, and the paper had absorbed the cold and humid air of the room, and it was a little swollen. He opened the notebook, and the beam of the flashlight hit the page, the fiber texture of the paper was magnified, and the fine traces made people feel dazed.
"Strange..." Lin Yuanzhou muttered in a low voice.
Su Mo raised his head, pushed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, and asked cautiously, "Did you find anything?" "
Her tone was lowered, as if she was afraid of breaking the subtle silence.
"Do you feel something is wrong?" Lin Yuanzhou did not look up, his voice was calm but with a hint of strange nervousness, "Before a person dies, he spreads out his notebook on the table, but only turns to a blank page... It doesn't seem like a coincidence. "
Qin Mubai walked over with a paper cup, the coffee in his hand was already cold, he took a sip, and frowned bitterly: "We have checked, there is no handwriting, and there are no traces of being torn, it should only be left by the habit of the deceased." "
"No." Lin Yuanzhou raised his head suddenly, his eyes stabbing at the photo like a sharp blade, "Habit? Will habits stay tidy until they die? This book is even more suspicious because it is blank. "
The air freezes instantly.
Su Mo was stunned for a moment, his eyes gradually changed, as if a trace of fire was ignited. She suddenly thought of some techniques mentioned in detective textbooks, and immediately whispered, "Captain... Are you wondering what might have been written in these blanks? "
Lin Yuanzhou nodded, without any superfluous explanation, just stretched out his hand: "Give me a pencil." "
A young police officer hurriedly handed it over. Lin Yuanzhou took it, picked up the notebook, turned to the page that made him uneasy, and began to gently scribble on the paper.
The sound of the lead rubbing against the paper was particularly clear in the silent conference room. As the gray shades unfolded, subtle traces gradually appeared on the paper—vague at first, like random strokes, but as the pencil kept going back and forth, those invisible lines slowly pieced together a complete sentence.
Everyone's breathing became rapid.
"... I'm looking at you. "
Six words appeared coldly in the center of the page.
At that moment, everyone's heart in the room seemed to be grabbed heavily. The coffee cup in Qin Mubai's hand almost slipped off, Su Mo's eyes widened, and his fingertips unconsciously pinched the edge of the stenograph, and even his knuckles turned white.
The air seems to be deprived of temperature.
"This ..." Su Mo's voice trembled, "This is ... To whom is it reserved? "
Lin Yuanzhou stared at the line, his eyes solemn. The light reflected in his dark pupils, reflecting a little edge. He spoke slowly: "It's not for the dead, it's ... Leave it to us. "
He paused, and his tone suddenly became lower: "More precisely, it's left to me." "
---
The atmosphere in the conference room was like being cut by a sharp blade.
Su Mo's heart flashed with the clip of last night. When she got off work, she walked alone at the intersection, filled with rain and mist, and there was a shadow under the dim streetlights, as if someone was standing quietly. A chill crossed her heart and she walked away quickly, but the feeling of being watched never dissipated.
At this moment, those six words are like a dagger, embodying her fear.
"Ghost." Lin Yuanzhou finally spat out the name.
Su Mo raised his head suddenly, his voice trembling a little: "You mean... This is written by the ghost? "
"That's right." Lin Yuanzhou's voice was extremely cold, "This is his greeting, and it is also a provocation." He told us that he was always watching, always present. "
Qin Mubai's face was heavy, and he cursed in a low voice: "Madman...
Lin Yuanzhou ignored it, and he continued to turn the page. Sure enough, under that line, there were still strange symbols left. At first, it looked like a child scribbling casually, but in his eyes, there was some kind of deliberate order.
Triangle, short horizontal, dot matrix. The arrangement is neither completely chaotic nor simply a pattern.
"It's not like random scribbling." Lin Yuanzhou quickly analyzed, "It's more like a cryptographic symbol." Some kind of password. "
He immediately traced the symbols on the scratch paper and began to deduce. The rustling sound of the tip of the pen scratching rapidly carries a tense rhythm in the air. Su Mo almost held her breath, she saw fine beads of sweat oozing from the corners of his forehead, but she didn't stop.
These symbols... Like coordinates. Lin Yuanzhou suddenly stopped, his eyes sharp.
"Coordinates?" Qin Mubai frowned.
"That's right." Lin Yuanzhou nodded, and immediately pulled up the floor plan of the building where the crime occurred, and compared the symbols with the floor layout one by one. A few minutes later, a light flashed in his eyes.
"Elevator machine room."
---
Everyone was shocked.
In less than ten minutes, the group rushed to the top floor of the building where the crime occurred. When the heavy iron door was pushed open, the roaring sound of machines in the computer room immediately hit the face. The air is dull, with a mixed smell of grease and rust, making it difficult to breathe.
Lin Yuanzhou raised his flashlight, and the beam swept through the narrow space, and the cable meandered between the ground and the wall like a black snake. The surface of the machine was covered with a thick layer of dust, and only one corner looked out of place - there was a small tin box, almost deliberately clean.
He walked over, put on his gloves, and slowly opened them.
There was a piece of paper lying quietly inside. The paper was snow-white, as if it had just been put in. In the center is a minimalist human face: the corners of the mouth are upturned, forming a mocking smile; The eyes were two black hollows, as empty as an abyss.
Below the paper, a few lines of words are eye-catching:
"The game has just begun."
---
"Damn!" Qin Mubai scolded angrily, closed the iron box suddenly, and the sound echoed through the wall.
Su Mo's chest rose and fell violently, as if his breath was blocked. That smiling face was imprinted in her mind, and she couldn't erase it. She seemed to feel that an invisible being was staring coldly in the dark through countless layers of mist.
Lin Yuanzhou just stared at the piece of paper, his eyes as cold as a knife's edge. There is no anger, no panic, but some kind of concentration that is suppressed to the extreme.
He slowly raised his head, his voice low and firm:
"He's waiting for me."