I held the sealed evidence box, ready to head out to find the former orphanage caregiver, to track down the witnesses of that day, to expose everything.
Before opening the door, I checked the box out of habit—and my blood ran cold. The scent samples inside had been swapped. All of them.
The stench of the corpse, the smell of fire, gasoline, the hallucinogenic gas—all gone, replaced only by the foul odor of ordinary trash.
It was Zhou Yan. He had snuck in and swapped the evidence while I was sorting it, still clinging to his self-preservation, still desperate to hide his crimes.
Just then, my phone rang—a text from an unknown number, with a photo attached. My sister, tied to a chair, two strange men standing beside her, knives in their hands. No words, no threats—but the message was crystal clear.
The remnants of the powerful clique had found her, and they were using her to blackmail me: abandon the truth, and she lives. Resist, and she dies.
I stood in the room, ice coursing through my veins, my blood frozen solid. Evidence swapped, sister kidnapped, Zhou Yan's betrayal, the powerful's manhunt—I had fallen into a true abyss, with nothing left, no way out.
But I would not surrender. I had anticipated this. I had planned ahead.
I lifted my wrist—on it was a scent tattoo I had made beforehand, crafted with soluble perfume materials embedded under my skin, invisible to the naked eye, only to appear when sprayed with a special perfume. All the key scent samples were there, preserved on my skin.
And the tracking sachet I had given my sister—she had scattered the spice powder, and I could smell it, could find her, no matter where she was.
I texted the unknown number, feigning surrender: "I give up. Let my sister go. Name the place."
To buy time, to calm them. Then I took out the special perfume and sprayed it on my wrist. The scent tattoo bloomed to life, clear, complete, deadly—all the key evidence, right there on my skin.
I followed the trail of the tracking spice powder, step by step, toward the place where my sister was being held. At the same time, I messaged the former orphanage caregiver, sending a photo of my wrist tattoo: "Bring people. Save my sister. Expose the truth."
I would not lose. Even if the whole world betrayed me, even if the abyss loomed above me—I would save my sister. I would expose all the evil.