Chapter 1151 - The Second Killer
Lei En was quite distressed about Zhong Xiaoying's shot—he could really use a live prisoner right now. But what was done was done; no point in dwelling on it. He signaled for Zhong Xiaoying to rise.
"Alright, alright. There's no point crying now. A post-mortem examination is at least as good as interrogating a live prisoner."
Whether this stemmed from his obsession with dissecting corpses or some naĂŻve, romantic faith in "Forensic Science," Lei En always held an almost cult-like reverence for autopsies. His enthusiasm made Zhong Xiaoying feel considerably better about the whole affair.
In truth, Xu Ke had limited expectations for what the autopsy might reveal. Based on what he knew of the technology and equipment available, the examination would at most yield the following: ethnicity, approximate height and weight, age range, occupation, and cause of death. Given the time, manpower, and resources available for investigation, this information would be of little help.
But Lei En was eager. No sooner had the corpse been brought into the medical station than this man—who rarely performed autopsies himself these days—donned a surgical gown and set to work.
Lei En's methods were exceptionally meticulous. He documented absolutely everything. Not only did he carefully examine every external wound and internal organ, but he photographed each step. Most of the shots were his own.
Cameras had been manufactured in Lingao for some time now. The earliest models were custom-made for the intelligence services and reserved for espionage activities.
In this era, using cameras as intelligence tools carried an important advantage: the photographs weren't "real" enough. They were grainy, of low saturation, and had poor contrast—they looked more or less like drawings or etchings. Showing a photograph to people of this era was like showing AI-generated images to people of the twenty-first century: they aroused amazement and wonder but never panic.
From an intelligence perspective, the difficulty of "exposure" was much lower. Even if someone got hold of the photographs, they wouldn't know what they were looking at.
Lei En had obtained several cameras for the medical system, intending to document cases, pathology, and teaching materials. Even before putting them to use, he had already prepared specifications requiring every autopsy to be documented with photographs as standard procedure.
After the exterior examination was complete, he verified the man's identity by checking injury traces against eyewitness accounts: based on the trajectory and location of the gunshot wound, as well as signs of drowning, this was indeed the killer Zhong Xiaoying had shot.
Based on the autopsy, the man was in his thirties, about 165 centimeters tall, with rough hands and well-developed calluses on the palm center and index finger—clearly someone who frequently wielded weapons. He was not a sailor; sailors would have calluses from handling ropes.
The corpse had also been in the water for some time, leaving it somewhat bloated and affecting the accuracy of some measurements. Still, based on his muscular development, this person had engaged in physical labor, and judging by his overall fitness, his nutrition had been good—so he wasn't from the bottom of society.
A dark birthmark marked the left side of his belly, roughly the size of an egg, shaped somewhat like a gourd.
According to Lei En's judgment, this man was likely a ronin-class martial artist who had been employed by someone. This aligned with the eyewitness accounts Xu Ke had verified—the person's features could be described as a Japanese "ronin."
All expected findings.
But then Lei En suddenly stopped his examination.
"This is strange."
Many people had come to observe the autopsy, including Dr. Zhong, though Wei Bachi had not come. Xu Ke leaned forward, squinting, but couldn't see what Lei En had discovered.
"What's strange?"
Lei En pondered for a moment, then picked up a slender probe with a magnifying glass at the end to examine the base of the corpse's neck.
"Xiaoying's marksmanship was pretty good. She hit him cleanly. But she didn't kill him."
"What? You mean he wasn't killed by the gunshot? He was clearly sinking when I shot him!" Zhong Xiaoying cried out in surprise.
"Don't jump to conclusions. The bullet entered through the left shoulder, shattered the scapula, smashed the clavicle, and exited through the upper chest. Based on the damage to the large blood vessels in that area, he would have bled out within minutes—but that's not the cause of death. The cause of death was this."
Lei En carefully used forceps to extract a slender bamboo needle from the base of the corpse's neck. The needle was about four inches long and extremely thin. If not for the small swelling at the entry point, it wouldn't have been noticeable at all.
"He was hit by a poisoned dart. The location of the wound suggests someone shot him from behind while he was fleeing. It punctured the junction of his cervical vertebrae, and the toxin on the needle paralyzed his respiratory center." Lei En directed the photographer to take several pictures. "He was already dead before he hit the water."
"So you're saying there's another killer?!" Xu Ke said.
"Indeed. And this person's weapon is extremely precise and deadly. Looking at this wound, the dart was shot from a significant distance. Hitting such a vital point from afar—no ordinary assassin is capable of this. Xiaoying, you're lucky he didn't target you."
Zhong Xiaoying shivered involuntarily.
"Is it possible he shot himself—committed suicide?" someone suggested.
"It can't be ruled out theoretically," Lei En said, "but judging from the angle of entry and his range of arm motion, it would be very difficult for him to stab himself in this position. Unless someone placed the needle there before he started running—like pricking a balloon before inflating it. But that seems ridiculous."
"No, it's not ridiculous," Xu Ke said grimly. "Whoever orchestrated this planned everything meticulously. They hired this ronin to do the killing, then had someone follow him. If he was captured, they would silence him; if he successfully escaped, they'd let him live. Either way, they left no loose ends."
Dr. Zhong sighed. "From a technical standard, this rivals a modern intelligence operation."
"The question is: who is this second killer? Are they still among us?" Xu Ke felt his thoughts grow heavier.
Lei En continued the autopsy, hoping to find more clues. When he opened the stomach, he found the remains of a meal still undigested—rice, pork, and greens, consumed about two hours before death. The intestinal contents were sent for examination as well.
Besides this, they found several personal effects on the body: a few copper coins, a small cloth pouch containing some medicinal powder—probably a painkiller or stimulant—and a gambling tile, a mahjong piece to be precise: the "eight of bamboo."
"A mahjong tile?" Xu Ke found this interesting. "He gambled?"
"Mahjong isn't popular in Japan. This man likely picked it up in China after arriving here. And judging by the wear on this tile, it's been handled frequently—he was probably a regular gambler."
Xu Ke suddenly had a thought. "Can we lift fingerprints from this?"
Lei En's eyes lit up. "Great idea! I'll have it sent to the lab immediately."
(End of Chapter)