Red wine poisoning case 1.10
[Li Weimian's Mission: The Memory Maze]
Li Weimian stood in the center of the library, her fingertips tracing the brain scan image inside the envelope.
"M-0, Memory Erasure Record"
—The images show numerous signs of human intervention in the hippocampus region, resembling parchment that has been repeatedly wiped and rewritten.
The bookshelves moved silently, forming a towering labyrinth. The gilded titles of each book followed the same format:
"M-0-7 years: Pain Tolerance Test"
"M-0-12 years: An experiment on empathy inhibition".
"M-0-16 years old: Record of the erasure of self-awareness".
She pulled out the file "M-0-16 years old" and found that the key pages were torn, but there were traces of purple ink left in the binding thread—the same color as the number of times the memory was erased on the scanned image.
Inference: Ryan used color coding to distinguish memory levels, with purple equaling the highest level of lockdown.
As her shadow fell on a particular bookshelf, fluorescent arrows appeared on the floor. Following the guidance to the circular area, seven black notebooks were arranged in a star shape, their covers printed with symbols for different neurotransmitters:
Numbering, neurotransmitters—corresponding to emotions.
①Serotonin – calming.
②Norepinephrine – fear.
③Dopamine – pleasure.
④ Gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA) – memory inhibition.
She directly opened notebook number 4; the pages were engraved with microtext using a needle tip.
"The truth lies hidden in the most painful memories, but M-0 will never see it—we've erased it too cleanly."
Take out the lipstick and write the chemical formula on the mirror:
CHO (γ-aminobutyric acid) + CHNO (glutamate) → CHNO (GABA receptor activator)
The mirror suddenly cracked, revealing a hidden terminal. After entering the formula, the screen displayed:
Final question: What was M-0 truly afraid of when he saw Yan Kang?
She typed:
"It's not the fear of the test subjects that's terrifying, but the fear of having tacitly approved of it all."
The terminal ejects a metal capsule containing the molecular formula of an antidote.
1. Physical evidence of memory manipulation locked in by ink stains
2. Using neurotransmitter classification to reverse-locate memory inhibition areas
3. Using biochemistry to solve the mirror mechanism
4. Seeing through Ryan's psychological trap—Fan Jinci's guilt is the real "memory lock".
As Li Weimian left with the capsule, all the books in the library automatically burned, and the ashes formed a line of floating text:
"You are just as suitable as M-0 to be my successor."
She crushed the ashes and sneered, "Too bad, I hate madmen."
[Jiang Zhaoyan's Challenge: Reflection in the Mirror]
Jiang Zhaoyan stood in the center of the gallery, the brass key between his fingers, its teeth gleaming coldly under the light.
"Find the self you can't see."
The only message in the envelope was this.
The gallery was lined with portraits, each labeled with an experiment number: M-1 to M-11. The children in the paintings had pale faces and empty eyes, like soulless shells.
Jiang Zhaoyan walked slowly down the corridor, his gaze sweeping over every face.
He stopped in front of the last painting.
The frame was blank, but the label clearly read:
"M-12: Yan Kang | Failure"
“The unseen self…” Jiang Zhaoyan murmured to himself, then suddenly sneered, “So that’s where you were waiting for me.”
He raised his hand, his fingertips touching the blank canvas—
Zi.
A jolt of electric shock coursed through his skin, and the canvas suddenly became transparent, like a mirror, reflecting his face.
But the "he" in the mirror was wearing a white coat, holding a syringe in his hand, with dark red liquid dripping from the needle.
Jiang Zhaoyue.
His "sister".
Jiang Zhaoyue in the mirror slowly raised her head, a strange smile curling at the corner of her lips:
"You've arrived."
Jiang Zhaoyan's breath hitched.
His voice was hoarse. "Ten years ago, the official record stated that you committed suicide."
“Suicide?” Jiang Zhaoyue chuckled in the mirror, raising the syringe. “That was the ‘standard answer’ I gave them.”
The scene suddenly changed.
Young Jiang Zhaoyue stood in the laboratory, facing the unconscious Fan Jinci, whose wrists were fixed to a metal table, the butterfly scars still glowing with fresh blood.
“M-0 is the most perfect creation.” She stroked Fan Jinci’s forehead, her eyes burning with fervor. “Once the final synchronization is completed, it will be able to carry the memories of all the test subjects… including mine.”
Jiang Zhaoyan suddenly took a step back, knocking over the vase behind him.
Shards flew everywhere, cutting his palm; drops of blood fell to the floor, strangely coalescing into a line of words:
"After the truth is revealed, the mirror changes again, showing two options:"
A. Acknowledge Jiang Zhaoyue's crimes and obtain the antidote.
B. Protect your sister's secret, and give up the antidote.
Jiang Zhaoyan stared at the options and suddenly smiled.
He raised his hand and punched the mirror—
Click!
The glass shattered, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a blue vial with a label that read:
"Serotonin antagonists—a cure for the pain caused by lies."
He grabbed the medicine and sneered at the broken mirror:
"I choose C—"
"I'll send all of you idiots to hell."
At the other end of the corridor, Wen Lin was trying to pry open the back of a painting, muttering to himself:
"Why bother with a psychological test? Can't you just give me the password directly...?"
Suddenly, the picture frame popped open automatically, and a note fell out:
"Prosecutor Wen, your cross-dressing video has surpassed 10 million views, congratulations."
Wen Lin: "...I hate this manor."
[Wen Lin's Challenge: The Prosecutor's Skills]
Wen Lin gripped the envelope, shaking it with a look of disgust: "You want me to find the 'most hypocritical portrait'? This old man's seen my cross-dressing videos and thinks I'm good at spotting sluts?"
Jiang Zhaoyan rolled his eyes: "Be serious, Brother Fan's life is in your hands."
"I know, I know—" Wen Lin dragged out his words, swaying as he walked towards the corner of the gallery, humming a tune that was out of tune.
No one noticed that his hand, tucked into his pocket, was repeatedly scratching the inside of the envelope with his fingernails—there was a nearly invisible chemical coating that would develop when heated.
Three minutes later, Wen Lin stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary landscape painting.
"You're the one." He poked at the picture frame. "These clouds look like cotton candy, so fake."
Jiang Zhaoyan was about to make a sarcastic remark when he saw Wen Lin suddenly take off his wristwatch and use the strap to fasten the metal decoration on the edge of the picture frame—
Click.
The hidden compartment popped open, revealing an old-fashioned telegraph machine.
“An improved version of the Enigma cipher machine used by the German army in 1943.” Wen Lin whistled. “Old Ryan is quite retro.”
He pressed a few buttons casually, and the telegraph machine suddenly spat out a card:
"The hypocrisy is never in the paintings, but in the people who view them—like Prosecutor Wen, who pretends to be a playboy."
Wen Lin's smile froze on his face.
The next second, he suddenly ripped open the canvas, revealing a fingerprint scanner hidden behind it.
"I was going to play dumb to the end..." he sighed and pressed his thumb.
drop--
The entire wall of bookshelves suddenly slid sideways, revealing a wall full of surveillance screens. Each screen displayed the movement of the criminal investigation team members after they entered the manor, and the central screen prominently displayed:
"Wen Lin, 29 years old, undercover agent of the Special Inspection Section of the Department of Justice, investigation code name: Night Butterfly"
Jiang Zhaoyan's pupils shrank dramatically: "You?!"
"Shh." Wen Lin suddenly covered his mouth, pulled a miniature jammer from his tie clip, and stuck it on the monitor. "Now they can only see us gazing lovingly at each other."
He pulled a pen from his shoe heel, unscrewed the cap to reveal the data interface, and plugged it into the telegraph machine:
“Actually, I’ve been keeping an eye on Ryan for three months now.” The files on the screen scrolled rapidly. “This old bastard laundered money through charity auctions, buying nothing but raw materials for neurotoxin inhibitors.”
Looking at the densely packed transaction records, Jiang Zhaoyan suddenly pointed to one of them: "This number... belongs to Yan Kang's mechanical exoskeleton supplier!"
“Bingo~” Wen Lin blinked, “So my coming here is not by chance at all, I was deliberately ‘switched’ to be the guest on the invitation.”
The telegraph machine suddenly printed out the last message:
"Antidote synthesis formula: LH-γ-7 + serotonin antagonist"
"All done." Wen Lin tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Jiang Zhaoyan. "Go save Brother Fan quickly—"
Before the words were even finished, all the gallery's exits suddenly had their iron gates lowered.
Ryan's electronic voice rang out from all directions:
"Prosecutor Wen, you're more interesting than I imagined... Why not stay and become my new creation?"
Wen Lin sighed, then suddenly flicked a cufflink from his sleeve and smashed it precisely onto the main control panel.
Bang!
The instant the sparks exploded, he grabbed Jiang Zhaoyan and rushed into the ventilation duct: "Let's go! I've already figured out this stupid mechanism!"
Inside the pipe, Jiang Zhaoyan lowered his voice: "Just how many layers of disguise do you have?"
Wen Lin grinned in the darkness: "More than your sister's experimental records."
Jiang Zhaoyan: There's no need for that.
[Situ Jin's Mission: The Mechanical Heart]
Underground laboratory.
Situ Jin's mission was the most direct: "Repair Yan Kang's 'heart' and obtain the password."
The boy in the wheelchair had been disemboweled; instead of organs, his chest cavity contained a sophisticated mechanical pump engraved with a six-digit code.
"You'll fix me, right?" Yan Kang's electronic eyes flashed blue. "My brother said you love taking things apart the most."
Situ Jin's hands were trembling.
As he tightened the last screw, the mechanical pump's display lit up: Password: "M-0's Birthday".
—Even Fan Jinci himself doesn't remember his birthday.
He couldn't understand it.
Fan Jinci's birthday.
Birthday.
Wait a minute. This birthday. Maybe. It's the day of rebirth.
That was the day he met Yu Yan.
yes.
3.11
"That's really clever."
"You really know how to fix things." Yan Kang blinked his mechanical eyes.
"But you're leaving, aren't you?"
It is an affirmative sentence.
"When can my brother come to see me again?"
He turned his head as if he were sad.
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