Start with push-ups to gain experience

Chapter 342 Tracking the Devil, Urban Beauty

The air in old-fashioned apartment buildings is always filled with a persistent musty smell.

Large patches of plaster peeled off the wall, revealing the gray, decaying cement underneath.

The building was covered with haphazardly pasted small advertisements for "infertility treatment" and "locksmith services and plumbing repair," like a scalp graffiti clinging to the building.

A lone incandescent light bulb hangs at the top of the stairs, casting a dim, yellowish glow.

It would flicker every now and then, casting its shadow on the wall, stretching and distorting it.

Ding--

The elevator stopped on the seventh floor, and the old iron gate creaked as it slid open with difficulty.

The scraping sound echoed in the quiet stairwell, sounding particularly jarring.

A scantily clad woman staggered out of the elevator.

The tight-fitting tank top and bodycon mini skirt accentuated her beautiful curves.

The air in the hallway was instantly filled with the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume.

Her face still showed signs of intoxication, clearly indicating that she had just been drinking heavily at a nightclub and was only now returning home.

The high heels on her feet clicked on the floor, making a crisp but slightly messy "tap-tap" sound.

At this moment, however, she was completely unaware.

It was in the shadows at the corner of the stairwell.

A pair of eyes emerged from the darkness, gazing at her back.

The woman staggered down the corridor and stopped in front of a door.

Then, he fumbled in his bag and pulled out a set of keys.

The collision produced a crisp, clanging sound.

It seemed to take quite a bit of effort to align the key with the lock and finally open the door.

There was a "clang" sound.

The woman quickly went inside, and the door closed behind her, shutting out everything from the outside world.

In the corner, those eyes remained fixed on the direction where the woman had disappeared.

Deep within his pupils, an eerie red light flickered faintly.

It was as if a wild beast, ready to devour its prey, was lurking there.

About half a minute later, a figure silently emerged from the corner.

The oversized black raincoat completely covered his figure, and the hood was pulled down low.

The rainwater, still damp, dripped down the hem of my clothes, leaving a few tiny water stains on the dusty ground.

A figure walked down the long corridor, its footsteps as light as a raccoon's.

Most of the lights here are broken; only one or two are still lit in the distance.

The light was dim, barely enough to outline the closed doors on both sides.

Behind the door came various sounds belonging to the residents: the noise of television programs and the intermittent cries of a baby.

As the figure passed under a working light bulb, the dim light faintly illuminated the white mask on his face.

It was ferocious and terrifying, like a demon.

Beneath the mask, Fang Cheng's eyes were sharp as he gazed at the end of the corridor, which was being swallowed by darkness.

This apartment building was built in the early years of the Republic of China. It has ten floors and a spiral structure.

Everything about the facility looks old and outdated, not to mention the lack of surveillance equipment.

No wonder the target, "Scorpion," chose to hide here.

The information provided by Chen Chen was only a general area, without specific room numbers.

Therefore, he could only use the most primitive method of elimination, observing from the rooftop of the opposite building in advance to narrow down the target range to a few suspicious residents.

Now, Fang Cheng stood on the seventh floor, his gaze fixed on the "709" doorplate.

Just over ten minutes ago, he saw the lights in this room go out.

From any perspective, this is the most suspicious place.

Fang Cheng quietly walked to the door but did not take any immediate action.

Instead, close your eyes slightly and amplify the perception of your five senses.

Invisible ripples spread outwards, penetrating the thick door panels and probing into the darkness.

All the noise from the surrounding residents was filtered out, leaving only the sounds coming from the room in front of us.

however.

The room was deathly silent; not even the faintest breath or heartbeat could be heard.

Immediately afterwards, an unusual scent, like an invisible hook, caught Fang Cheng's sense of smell.

It was mixed in with the inherent musty smell of the corridor, extremely faint and weak, yet carrying a pungent odor.

It smells like the fishy, ​​foul odor emanating from salted fish that has been over-dried in the sun at the beach.

This smell might be difficult for ordinary people to detect or distinguish.

But Fang Cheng could clearly sense it.

This is definitely not the situation a normal resident should be in.

Fang Cheng frowned slightly, then reached out and gently pushed the door open.

The door remained firmly locked, not moving an inch.

He then looked down at the old keyhole.

Without the slightest hesitation, Fang Cheng reached inside his raincoat and pulled out a Phillips screwdriver.

Then, carefully align the conical tip of the screwdriver with the keyhole and slowly insert it.

One hand gripped the cold doorknob tightly to hold the door panel in place, while the other hand gripped the handle of a screwdriver.

My ears keenly picked up the roar of a car speeding past on the street in the distance.

It's now!

Fang Cheng exerted force in his arm instantly, shoving the screwdriver inward and using brute force to directly impact the pins inside the lock cylinder.

Click!

A suppressed cracking sound came from inside the lock cylinder.

It was almost perfectly masked by the roaring noise coming from the street.

Fang Cheng gripped the screwdriver handle and then steadily twisted it with his wrist.

All the marbles were violently thrown from their original positions, and the sense of obstruction vanished instantly.

The lock cylinder was no longer obstructed and turned open smoothly.

Squeaky--

The door was slowly pushed open, revealing the scene inside.

Fang Cheng walked straight in without making a fuss about keeping his footsteps quiet.

If the residents inside the house are indeed the target, "Scorpion".

Given the intelligence report that the other party possessed an extraordinary level of vigilance, even the slightest sound of the lock being opened would have been enough to wake them from their slumber and prepare them for battle.

Fang Cheng did not choose the more direct method of kicking down the door and breaking in.

They simply didn't want to alert the surrounding residents before confirming the target.

The room was pitch black, with heavy curtains blocking out all the light from the streetlights outside, creating a sense of seclusion and isolation.

But this had no effect on Fang Cheng.

In his vision, everything in the darkness was clearly outlined and visible.

This is a standard three-bedroom, one-living-room apartment, with very simple furnishings, and surprisingly clean and tidy, even to the point of being somewhat rigid.

Fang Cheng's gaze swept across every inch of space like a hawk's, his powerful perception searching for any enemies that might be hiding in the shadows.

At the same time, the muscles throughout his body are like coiled pythons, taut to the extreme, ready to deliver a fatal blow at any moment.

According to intelligence reports, the target is suspected of possessing stealth capabilities, therefore, the highest level of vigilance must be maintained at all times.

Living room, kitchen, bathroom...

Fang Cheng quickly walked around the house.

Finally, only the tightly closed bedroom door remained unopened.

That faint, pungent smell of salted fish was coming from inside.

Poisonous scorpions could very well be hiding inside.

Fang Cheng stopped testing the waters and strode towards the bedroom, suddenly raising his foot and kicking the door hard.

boom!
The fragile wooden door, along with its lock, shattered inwards as if struck by a cannonball.

Wood chips and fragments flew everywhere in an instant.

Infiltration and assassination are not Fang Cheng's forte.

At times like these, more direct and violent means must be used to resolve the objective.

As the door opened, the scene inside the bedroom immediately came into view.

Several wardrobes, a desk, and a desk lamp.

Several pornographic magazines with explicit covers were scattered nearby. Fang Cheng's gaze swept over them suddenly.

Finally, the image settled on the bed in the center of the room.

A white gauze curtain covered the bed, and through the hazy fabric, a vague human figure could be seen lying quietly inside.

The stench that filled the air was coming from that source.

Fang Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly and walked over step by step.

He heard no heartbeat or breathing.

Before even reaching out to pull back the thin veil, it was already clear that the person lying on the bed was a corpse.

The truth was just as he expected.

Beneath the suddenly ripped-back veil lay a gruesome, mummified corpse.

The corpse was completely unrecognizable from its pre-death appearance; its skin clung tightly to the bones like dried bacon.

His eye sockets were sunken into two black holes, and his mouth was wide open in pain.

It was as if he was in a state of extreme fear before his death, desperately begging for mercy from the murderer.

Fang Cheng gently exhaled a breath of stale air.

The appearance of this mummified corpse is just... too gruesome.

It can only be vaguely identified as a woman from certain physical characteristics.

She looked like she had been dead for a long time.

Strangely, no signs of natural decomposition were found on the body, nor did it have the foul odor that a normal corpse would have.

It was as if all the moisture and vitality in her body had been completely drained by some force in a very short time.

Fang Cheng carefully examined the mummified corpse, hoping to find some clues, but still found nothing.

After all, he wasn't a professional forensic doctor and didn't have any testing equipment at hand.

He then looked up and carefully examined the entire room once more.

It can now be confirmed that there is no other living person in this room besides this corpse.

Fang Cheng kicked the door open and even deliberately exposed his back several times during the search.

It was all to lure that scorpion who might use invisibility and hide in the shadows.

But the other party never showed up.

"Could Chen Chen be lying to me...?"

Fang Cheng muttered to himself.

No.

The idea was rejected as soon as it came to mind.

Fang Cheng's gaze fell on the floor at the foot of the bed.

There was a drop of solidified, yellow, viscous substance, about the size of a fingernail.

His eyes lit up, and he squatted down, extending his finger to carefully touch it.

Upon contact, a burning stinging sensation spread through the skin, as if it had been contaminated with concentrated sulfuric acid.

The skin on my fingertips slowly became dry and shriveled, and the moisture in my flesh seemed to be absorbed by the mucus.

Fang Cheng's eyes sharpened, and he began to circulate his true qi.

A wisp of crimson-gold flame suddenly shot out from his fingertips, like a lighter.

The strange, sticky liquid instantly turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared completely under the scorching flames.

"The one living here must be the Poisonous Scorpion, that's right..."

Fang Cheng stood up, his gaze falling back on the desk.

There was a cup of coffee there; he reached out and touched the inside of the cup, which was still warm.

The owner of this house must have just left.

Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to the power cord of the desk lamp.

Follow the wire to the socket in the corner.

There was a white device with a knob, which looked like it was used for timing.

Fang Cheng instantly understood.

This is a timer switch used to control the bedroom lights. Once the time is set, it will automatically cut off the power.

He had just seen the lights in the room go out from outside, not because the owner had gone to sleep, but because the timer was playing tricks on him.

Just as the legends said, this prey was wary and cunning.

But the more this is the case, the more it proves that you haven't chosen the wrong target.

Fang Cheng walked to the window and pulled back the heavy curtains.

The outside was equally dark and deep.

The cold rain pounded against the glass, forming streams that meandered down the street, blurring the view.

He gazed out the window, his eyes flickering slightly.

Based on the profile in the case file, it is inferred that the scorpion had a penchant for appearing on rainy nights, stalking young women, and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

After a long period of dormancy, these serial killers usually experience a period of uncontrollable impulse.

They will uncontrollably go out to find new targets.

And tonight, this rainy night, could very well be the moment the enemy strikes.

You could choose to stay and hide in this room, waiting for the other party to return and walk right into your trap, where you could deliver a fatal blow.

or……

Thinking of this, Fang Cheng suddenly turned his head and looked again at the gruesome female corpse on the bed.

Then he reached out and gently closed her unseeing eyes, calmly saying:
"Don't worry, I'll make the murderer pay with his life."

After saying that, he didn't linger for a moment, turned around, walked to the window, and pushed it open.

The next second, he jumped from the seventh-floor window without hesitation.

The black raincoat fluttered in the night wind, like a falcon spreading its wings, and disappeared into the dark rain in an instant.

....................................

JB District, Yingchun Road.

The neon sign of "Lady's Nightclub" glowed with clusters of purplish-red light in the rain.

Like a giant beast lurking in the urban jungle, it opens its bewildered eyes.

Even rainy days cannot dampen the fervent atmosphere here.

The powerful drumbeats pierced the walls, mingling with the sound of pouring rain and vibrating the slippery asphalt.

Cars stopped briefly at the entrance, dropping off or picking up stylishly dressed men and women.

Cheng Leyi's luck was clearly not good tonight.

She had been standing under the eaves for almost ten minutes.

Taxis with their red "Passengers on Duty" lights flashing past her, splashing water and forcing her to back away repeatedly.

She sighed in frustration, put her phone away, and placed it in her handbag.

My home is only two streets away, and it won't take long to walk back.

Having made up her mind, she opened the transparent umbrella she had bought at a high price outside the nightclub and stepped into the rain.

A striking red halter dress hugged her slender figure, and her long, fair legs stood out in the night.

The stiletto heels clicked and clacked on the puddle-filled pavement, making a crisp yet lonely "tap, tap" sound.

Her silver tassel earrings swayed gently with her steps.

Together with the sequined handbag on her shoulder, it reflected the hazy lights of the city at midnight.

Turning the corner, the hustle and bustle was instantly left behind, as if the world had been muted.

This is a quiet side road, and most of the shops on both sides have already closed.

Only the dim streetlights cast blurry halos in the rain.

The raindrops pattered against the umbrella, becoming the only background noise at that moment.

Cheng Leyi gathered her long hair, which had been ruffled by the wind, and continued walking forward.

She didn't know when it started, but a strange sound began to blend into the sound of the rain and her own footsteps.

It was the sound of footsteps, neither hurried nor slow.

The sound of her stepping into the puddle was lower and more sluggish than the sound of her high heels.

It's like... walking with your boots soaked through.

one more time.

The rhythm was almost inseparable from her steps, like a lingering shadow.

Cheng Leyi's heart sank suddenly.

Her fingers, gripping the umbrella and handbag, tightened unconsciously, her knuckles turning slightly white.

Is someone following me?

(End of this chapter)