American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

The convoy arrived at the Trenton Police Department, a three-story red brick building with American and New Jersey flags hanging at the entrance. The parking lot was already filled with police cars and civilian vehicles, clearly indicating that the case had attracted considerable attention.

They entered the police station building, and Weber led them to a conference room. The room contained a long table, and a whiteboard on the wall was covered with photos, maps, and sticky notes with various clues.

“This is all the information we have gathered so far,” Weber said, pointing to the whiteboard. “Photos of the three victims, a map of the discovery sites, a summary of the forensic report, and some leads we are currently investigating.”

Lynn walked up to the whiteboard and carefully studied the information on it.

The first victim: Michael Harrison, 35, a construction worker. Married with two children, he lived in a middle-class community outside Trenton. He went missing on January 15th and his body was found on January 17th.

The second victim: David Chen, 42 years old, an accountant. Single, living in an apartment downtown. He went missing on January 16th, and his body was found on January 18th.

The third victim: Jason Miller, 28, a PhD student in biochemistry at the University of Trenton. Single, he lived in student accommodation near the university. His disappearance date is unknown, but his body was found on January 20th, which is today.

“Three people, three completely different backgrounds,” Lynn murmured. “A construction worker, an accountant, a graduate student. Their ages range from twenty-eight to forty-two, they live in different places, and do different jobs. On the surface, they have nothing in common.”

“But the killer chose them,” Kevin said. “This means that in the killer’s eyes, they were connected in some way.”

“That’s right,” Lynn nodded, “We need to dig deeper. Investigate their social connections, work history, educational background—any possible overlap.”

He turned to Weber. “Can you get their detailed background information? Including their phone records, bank transactions, social media activity, everything.”

“I’ve already applied for a search warrant,” Weber said. “It should be ready soon.”

“And that ring,” Lynn said, pulling an evidence bag from his pocket, “can we find out where it was bought? The initial 'M' might be a crucial clue.”

“I’ll have someone investigate the jewelry store,” Weber said, taking the evidence bag. “These engraved rings are usually custom-made; we should be able to find the purchase record.”

For the next few hours, they buried themselves in a large amount of data.

Lynn and Kevin sat at a long table in the conference room, surrounded by piles of documents, photos, and printed electronic records. Weber's men kept bringing in new information—the victims' work resumes, educational backgrounds, social media accounts, and bank transaction records.
The sky outside the window had completely darkened, and the snow continued to fall. The fluorescent lights in the conference room emitted a blinding white light, the coffee machine whirred incessantly, and the air was filled with the smell of coffee and printer toner.

“We found something,” Kevin said abruptly, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. “The third victim—Jason Miller—had some interesting photos on his social media accounts.”

Lynn walked over and looked at what was displayed on the screen.

That's Jason Miller's Instagram account, full of photos—working photos in the lab, party photos with friends, travel photos. Kevin pointed to one of the photos, a group photo that looked like it was from a party or celebration.

“Look at this photo,” Kevin said. “It was taken six months ago at a place called ‘Green Leaf Bar.’”

Lynn looked closely at the photo. There were seven or eight people in the photo, standing at the entrance of a bar, all of them smiling happily. Jason Miller was standing in the middle, surrounded by several young people who looked to be around the same age.

“Zoom in on the photos,” Lynn said. “I want to see everyone’s face clearly.”

Kevin zoomed in on the photo. Lynn's eyes scanned each face, then suddenly he stopped.

“Wait,” he said, pointing to a person on the right side of the photo, “who is this person?”

It was a middle-aged man, probably in his forties, wearing a dark shirt, standing next to Jason Miller. His face looked very familiar.
“Bring me the photo of the second victim,” Lynn said.

Kevin found David Chen's photo in the pile of documents on the table and handed it to Lynn.

Lynn placed the two photos side by side for comparison. Indeed, the middle-aged man looked almost exactly like David Chen—the same face shape, the same hairstyle, the same glasses.

“This is David Chen,” Lynn said. “The second victim. He knew Jason Miller.”

“How did they meet?” Kevin asked. “One’s an accountant, the other a graduate student—how did they end up in the same photo?”

“Check out that bar,” Lynn said, “'Green Leaf Bar,' see what kind of place it is, what’s so special about it.”

Kevin searched on the computer for a while. “Found it,” he said. “Green Leaf Bar is a bar in downtown Trenton known for hosting various themed parties. According to their website, they host different events every month—bachelorette parties, alumni gatherings, industry networking events.”

What activities took place six months ago?

Kevin continued his search. "Six months ago... let me see there was an event called 'Trenton Tech Night,' a social gathering specifically for people in the technology and research fields."

“Tech Night,” Lynn mused. “Jason Miller is a biochemistry graduate student; it’s normal for him to attend this kind of event. But David Chen is an accountant; why would he go?”

“Maybe he’s an accountant at a tech company?” Kevin guessed.

Lynn glanced at David Chen's resume. "No, he works at a regular accounting firm, with no apparent connection to the tech industry."

He continued studying the photo and noticed the caption read: "Thank you everyone for attending our party! Special thanks to Alex for organizing all of this!"

“Alex,” Lynn read the name aloud, “who is Alex?”

“Let me check,” Kevin said, starting a search on Jason Miller’s friend list.

Just then, Inspector Webber walked into the conference room, carrying a new stack of documents.

“We’ve found something,” he said, “about the first victim, Michael Harrison.”

"What is that?"

“His bank records show that he transferred $500 to the same account every month for the past year,” Weber said. “We traced that account and found it belonged to a man named Alexander Green.”

“Alexander Green,” Lynn repeated, “Alex.”

Do you know this person?

“No, but his name just appeared in another lead,” Lynn said, pointing to a photo on the computer screen. “The caption of that photo mentions a guy named Alex, saying he organized the party.”

Weber walked over and looked at the photos on the screen. "You mean, all three victims are connected to this Alexander Green?"

“It looks like it,” Lynn said. “Michael Harrison transfers him five hundred dollars a month, Jason Miller attends the parties he organizes, and David Chen is in the same photo. It can’t be a coincidence.” “Then who is Alexander Green?” Kevin asked.

Weber flipped through the documents in his hand. "Alexander Green, twenty-six years old, a Trenton native. His background information indicates he is a freelancer, primarily engaged in event planning and social media management. No criminal record, no suspicious activity."

“Twenty-six years old,” Lynn pondered. “Young, socially active, knows a lot of people. He could be a common contact for these victims.”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s the killer,” Kevin said. “Maybe he just happened to know those three people.”

“Perhaps,” Lynn said, “but we need to talk to him. He might know something we don’t—like the real connection between the three victims, or who might have wanted to kill them.”

“I’ll go find his address right away,” Weber said.

He left the meeting room. Lynn continued to study the photograph, trying to find more clues.

“There’s another person here,” Kevin said, pointing to a young man on the left side of the photo. “He looks younger than the others, and his expression is a bit strange.”

Lynn looked closely. It was a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, with messy black hair, wearing an old T-shirt and jeans. Unlike the bright smiles of the others in the photo, his expression was somewhat forced, and his eyes revealed an indescribable emotion—perhaps unease, perhaps anger.

"Can you find out who this person is?" Lynn asked.

Kevin started searching Jason Miller's friends list and photo tags. A few minutes later, he found the answer.

“Found him,” he said. “This man’s name is Matthew Green. According to the tag, he’s Alexander Green’s brother.”

“The Brothers Grimm,” Lynn murmured, “Alex and Matthew. M is the first letter of Matthew’s name.”

He remembered the inscription on the ring: I will always love you—M.

“That ring might be related to Matthew Green,” he said. “We need to investigate both brothers simultaneously.”

Weber returned quickly, with Alexander Green's address and more background information.

“Alexander Green lives in an apartment downtown,” he said. “I’ve sent someone to contact him, but I can’t get through on the phone.”

"What about his brother? Matthew Green?"

Weber flipped through the documents. "Matthew Green, twenty-three years old, currently a graduate student at the University of Trenton... etc."

"What's wrong?"

“He also majored in biochemistry,” Weber looked up, his expression grave. “The same major as the third victim, Jason Miller, and possibly even the same lab.”

Lynn's heart raced. One brother had organized social events and gotten to know all the victims; the other was a classmate of one of the victims. This couldn't be a coincidence.

“We need to find these two brothers,” he said. “Let’s go now.”

They split into two groups. Webber led several police officers to Alexander Green's apartment, while Lynn and Kevin went to Trenton University to find Matthew Green.

The University of Trenton, located in the eastern suburbs of the city, is a medium-sized state university. The campus was exceptionally quiet at night, with most buildings only lit by a few scattered lights; students were either in their dormitories or had already gone home for vacation.

Lynn parked his car in front of the Biochemistry Department building. It was a four-story modern building with glass curtain walls reflecting the light from the streetlights, and a sign at the entrance that read "Williams Life Sciences Building".

“Matthew Green should be working in this building,” Kevin said, looking at the information on his phone. “According to the school's website, he's a research assistant in Professor Zhang Wei's lab.”

They entered the building and followed the corridor toward Professor Zhang Wei's laboratory. The building was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioning system and their own footsteps. The air smelled of chemicals and disinfectant, and the fluorescent lights illuminated the corridor bright white.

They found Professor Zhang Wei's laboratory on the third floor. The door was locked, but they could see inside through the glass windows—rows of lab benches were filled with test tubes, flasks, and various instruments, and the periodic table and some scientific posters hung on the walls.

“Nobody’s here,” Kevin said.

Lynn glanced at a door at the end of the corridor; it read "Graduate Student Office." "Let's go check that out."

They walked toward the door, and Lynn knocked. There was no response.

He tried turning the doorknob and found that the door was not locked.

The office was small, with a few tables and chairs, each piled high with books and documents. Academic posters and sticky notes adorned the walls, and a printer sat idle in the corner.

There was only one person sitting at the table—a young woman wearing glasses, working at a computer. When Lynn and Kevin entered, she looked up, a surprised expression on her face.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice wary.

“FBI,” Lynn showed his badge, “we’re looking for a man named Matthew Green. He’s a research assistant in this lab, right?”

The woman's expression grew even more surprised. "FBI? What happened to Matthew?"

“We just want to talk to him,” Lynn said. “Do you know him?”

“Of course,” the woman nodded, “we’re from the same lab. My name is Emily Walker.”

"Emily, do you know where Matthew is right now?"

Emily hesitated for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure he hasn't been to the lab these past few days. I thought he was preparing for final exams, or maybe he went home or something."

"The last few days? When exactly did it start?"

Emily thought for a moment. "About four or five days ago. Last Wednesday or Thursday, I can't quite remember."

Lynn and Kevin exchanged a glance. Four or five days ago was exactly the time the first victim went missing. (End of Chapter)