Vansin’s desk was in the innermost office on the third floor of the Criminal Investigation Detachment.
Located by the window, his desk was always piled with at least three stacks of case files.
But today, there was a new case file on the desk.
The envelope had only arrived this morning, and he hadn’t had a chance to open it yet.
Leon pushed the door open and walked in.
“Captain Van, something happened in the south.”
Vansin was drinking tea; he stopped with the cup raised to his lips.
“Where?”
“Debiao Club in the south of the city. A serious violent incident occurred last night—one dead, two seriously injured.”
Vansin put down his cup.
“What’s the situation?”
Leon placed a thick stack of preliminary investigation reports on the desk.
“Around 9:30 last night, an unidentified person broke into Debiao Club.”
“After injuring the security guard at the entrance, he broke into a VIP private room and severely injured the two bodyguards inside.”
He turned a page.
“One of the bodyguards was thrown out of a third-floor window and landed in the parking lot. He has multiple fractures and a concussion, and is currently in the ICU. It’s unclear if he’ll survive.”
“What about the other one?”
“He was slammed onto the floor of the private room, resulting in a basilar skull fracture and spinal injuries.”
Vansin opened the report and looked at the crime scene photos.
In the photos, a large hole had been punched through the wall of the VIP private room.
The edges of the hole looked as if they had been blasted through by some hard object; bricks and concrete were scattered all over the floor.
The tempered glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows was shattered, and the window frame was twisted and deformed.
In the parking lot, there was a black BMW SUV—or rather, what used to be a BMW SUV.
Now it looked more like a hunk of crushed scrap metal; the roof was caved in, the hood was folded into a V-shape, and all four wheels were dislodged.
“How thick was the wall that was punched through?” Vansin asked.
“A 24-centimeter solid brick wall, plus a 2-centimeter plaster layer.”
Vansin put down the photos and looked at Leon.
“The perpetrator punched through a 24-centimeter brick wall with one blow?”
“That’s what the on-site investigation team said, based on the distribution of the brick fragments and stress analysis.”
“The point of impact was concentrated in an area the size of a fist, with an estimated single-impact force exceeding five tons.”
Vansin was silent for a few seconds.
“What about surveillance?”
“There is. The club has multiple surveillance cameras inside, but…”
Leon’s expression shifted.
“But what?”
“The footage only captured a partial image of the intruder.”
The video quality was decent and in color.
The footage showed a panoramic view of the nightclub lobby, with a timestamp of 21:37.
Then the glass door shattered, and a man wearing a dirty cotton-padded jacket walked in.
Three seconds later, the change happened.
A layer of grey substance began to spread from the man’s left hand over his entire body, moving very quickly.
Within five seconds, that ordinary man in the cotton-padded jacket had turned into a grey giant over two meters tall.
Vansin watched the screen, his hand holding the tea suspended in mid-air.
He stared at that footage for a full three times.
“Pause.”
The image froze on the frame where the giant was walking toward the VIP private room.
A grey shell, exaggerated muscle contours, and two sunken white eye sockets.
Vansin’s gaze shifted from the footage to the unopened “Butcher” case file on the desk.
“Leon.”
“Yes.”
“Look at this thing.”
Vansin pointed to the grey giant on the screen,
“How is it different from the figure in the surveillance footage of our Butcher case?”
Leon thought about it.
“Neither looks like a normal human. Both have enlarged physiques and some kind of covering on their bodies.”
He watched it again.
“But the color is different. The one from the Butcher case was red, and this one is dark grey.”
“The physique is also different. This one is more muscular and broader; the one from the Butcher case was leaner and taller.”
“Anything else?”
“The modus operandi is different.”
Leon became clearer as he spoke, “The Butcher case involved tearing with sharp claws, large areas of the bodies disappearing, and signs of feeding.”
“The one at the nightclub was pure brute force; no sharp weapons were used, and there was no feeding behavior.”
Vansin set the teacup aside and leaned back in his chair.
“Two different monsters.”
After he said this, the office was silent for quite a while.
Leon swallowed hard.
“Captain Van, do you mean that there might be more than one in this city?”
Vansin didn’t answer directly; he opened the newly arrived case file on the desk and flipped through it quickly.
“In the nightclub case, did the surveillance capture the face of this grey monster before he transformed?”
“It did, but the angle wasn’t great; it was only a profile view.”
Leon pulled up another screenshot, the footage from when the intruder had just entered and hadn’t transformed yet; the profile outline could be roughly identified.
“Also, send this screenshot to Sun Debiao, the owner of Debiao Club, for identification.”
“Sun Debiao is still in the ICU. He is awake, but I suspect he isn’t very clear-headed yet.”
“Can he speak?”
“The doctor said we can ask him a few simple questions.”
“Then go ask. Ask him if he recognizes this person.”
Vansin stood up and walked to the office window.
Outside the window was the city skyline; the towering skyscrapers looked dull and oppressive under the grey sky.
“Leon.”
“Yes.”
“From now on, the Butcher case and the nightclub case will be handled as a combined case.”
“Combined? But the modus operandi is completely different, Captain Van.”
“The methods are different, but the nature is the same.”
Vansin turned around to look at him.
“Both are violent acts that exceed normal human physical capabilities.”
“Both involved some kind of unknown body covering, and both experienced drastic changes in physique within a short period.”
He tapped on the window frame.
“Regardless of whether these two things come from the same source, they appeared too close together—less than a week apart. I don’t believe this is a coincidence.”
Leon nodded and closed the laptop.
“What about the name of the special investigation team?”
Vansin thought for a moment.
“Let’s call it the Special Incident Investigation Team. We’ll tentatively set it at ten people, drawn from various departments. I’ll give you the list this afternoon.”
“Does this need to be reported?”
“Report it, but the tracking here cannot stop.”
Vansin picked up the thermos on the desk,
“Understood.”
Leon left the room.
Vansin sat alone at his desk, placing the two case files side by side in front of him.
On the left was the nightclub case: dark grey, strength-based, no feeding, identity to be determined.
On the right was the Butcher case: red, sharp claws, feeding, identity to be determined.
But judging by the nightclub case, the Butcher must also be a transformed human, which increases the suspicion on the missing teenager, Haruka.
Two monsters.
Two completely different ways of killing.
But there is one thing in common.
Vansin picked up a pen and wrote a line in his notebook.
Neither is something a human could do.
He stared at this line for a dozen seconds, then closed the notebook.