Chapter 244

It was still dark, and the neon signs on Flower Street cast blurry halos in the morning sky, illuminating the crooked clog prints at the entrance of the alley. The air was filled with the smell of cosmetics, alcohol, and an indescribable fishy sweetness.

The shrill ring of the telephone pierced the silence of the gendarmerie duty room, and then, almost simultaneously, the emergency lines of the police station and Mei Agency rang. The operator's voice quickly changed from sleepy to panic, and finally only a trembling report was left.

"Flower Street... the whole street is... dead!"

In less than half an hour, three military jeeps and two police cars broke through the morning mist and stopped at the entrance of Flower Street. Their headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating a hellish scene.

When the first group of gendarmes arrived at the entrance of "Flower Street", they were nailed to the spot by the scene before them.

Seven or eight Japanese bodies lay scattered along the narrow cobblestone street. Some were merchants in kimonos, others soldiers carrying army bags. They could have been customers emerging from the red-light district or soldiers on patrol. Their postures varied: some appeared to have collapsed while walking, while others lay sprawled on the ground, their hands stretched forward as if grasping for something.

Strangely, they bore no visible wounds, neither knife wounds nor bullet holes. The only abnormality was that all seven of their orifices—eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—were oozing dark red blood. The half-dried blood left a ghastly pattern on their pale faces.

When the leading officer pushed open the door of the most famous brothel at the corner of the street, the door was ajar. The room was so quiet that not even breathing could be heard.

In the hall, several geishas collapsed on the tatami, their shamisen strings lying to the side, a broken string. Their kimonos remained neat, their makeup unadulterated, but blood seeped from their eyes and ears, staining the white lining of their collars red. In the inner room, a Japanese officer and a young geisha died in each other's arms, their faces etched with the same frozen, silent terror.

The entire brothel, from top to bottom, from the owner to the cook, was left without a single survivor. There were no signs of struggle, no broken tables or chairs, not even a cry for help. Like an invisible plague, in the dead of night, unnoticed by anyone, it instantly wiped out every life here.

Just when the investigators thought this was just a massacre of ordinary Japanese, a special body was discovered in Meihuatang, which was also built on this street.

The deceased was wearing a kimono, his face also bleeding from all seven orifices, his eyes wide open staring forward. The intelligence officer was terrified when he saw the face clearly. He trembled as he pulled out his pocket watch to compare it with the photo, then rushed downstairs like a madman:

"Report! Report! Something terrible has happened! Section Chief Inukai Ken... Section Chief Inukai Ken has also died here!"

"Report! None of the deceased have any external injuries!" The medical examiner, wearing rubber gloves, examined the pupils of a corpse, his voice trembling with shock. "Preliminary assessment is that the time of death was between 1 and 3 a.m., but the specific cause of death... cannot be determined!"

"Can't be sure?" The Mei Agency's special envoy's face was so gloomy that it looked like water could drip out of it. He kicked the vase in the corner, and shards flew everywhere. "Could it be a ghost? So many people died silently in the heart of the concession?"

Military police quickly cordoned off the entire area and set up a police cordon. Officers held up their cameras, flashlights flashing repeatedly in the dim light, trying to capture any clues. But the scene was eerily clean: no fingerprints, no footprints, not even a hint of a suspicious smell.

The murderer seemed to have never existed, yet seemed to be everywhere.

The morning sun finally climbed up to the rooftops, illuminating the street shrouded in death. But instead of bringing warmth, the sun made the congealed blood and silent fear seem even more dazzling and suffocating.

An unprecedented panic, like a cold, poisonous snake, coiled around the hearts of everyone present. The entire Japanese Concession, on this seemingly peaceful morning, was completely dragged into a huge, unknown fear.

"Blockade! Blockade the entire International Settlement immediately!"

The correspondent roared into the phone, his voice hoarse with anger. But the moment he put down the phone, an uncontrollable chill ran up his spine, making Xiao Ri shudder.

Inukai Ken was dead. The man known as "Fox," who had spent a decade in the intelligence field, had died quietly at the Ume Agency headquarters. Blood was flowing from all seven orifices, his face frozen in a look of utter terror, yet not a single scratch remained on his body.

This is no longer a simple murder, it is a provocation and a blatant trampling of the Empire of Japan's rule in North China.

The call from the General Staff was like a death warrant; it had just been hung up ten minutes ago. The general's roar still echoed in my ears: "Three days! I only give you three days! If you can't find the murderer, you will commit seppuku!"

Three days.

The photos of the scene on the table showed the bodies, each one grimacing, blood gushing from every orifice. Like an invisible ghost, the murderer had reaped the lives of more than a dozen people in the dead of night, including Inukai Ken. He left no trace, no witnesses, not even a cry for help.

All available forces were mobilized, blocking every entrance and exit to the International Settlement and conducting house-to-house searches. Military police bayonets swung through the streets, and plainclothes police officers barked like mad dogs. The entire concession was in turmoil.

Everyone knew that this was more like a performance for the higher-ups, and they hadn't even found the shadow of the murderer.

Fear, planted like a seed has now begun to sprout.

We are not afraid of the bombs of the anti-Japanese elements, nor of the swords and guns of the gang members. They are visible enemies, we can guard against them and fight back.

But this time, the killer... He was too clean, too strange. He could sneak into the heavily guarded concession unnoticed, kill his target with pinpoint accuracy, and then disappear without a trace. He could even leave a veteran like Inukai Ken powerless.

Who is he? Is he a spy from some foreign country? Or some hidden civilian expert? Or maybe... not even human?

The thought had just emerged when it was forcibly suppressed. The soldiers of the Empire of Japan could not be intimidated by such illusory fears.

But whenever the night was quiet, I couldn't help but think of the expressions on the bodies at the scene. It was a kind of despair that ran deep in my bones, the despair of facing absolute power.

He ordered his men to seal off the concession not only to catch the murderer, but also to build a psychological defense for himself. It seemed that as long as the area was cordoned off, the invisible demon would not be able to get close.

But this is just deceiving yourself.

If he could kill Inukai Ken, then killing others would probably be easy.

Three days, only three days.

Either catch that ghost, or... follow in Inu Yangjian's footsteps.

This is a strong premonition, and the possibility of the latter is constantly growing in everyone's mind.