Beast Taming: Starting from Transmigration and Starting with a Cheat Code

Team Leader Wang was paying close attention to Qin Ming's actions.

It wasn't that he was worried; since the old forensic doctor hadn't said anything, he didn't intend to interfere.

But he was in charge of the site, and the final results of anyone who entered the cordon had to be compiled by him.

So while he communicated the progress with his various teams, he would occasionally glance up at Qin Ming through his goggles.

He saw Qin Ming squatting next to the old forensic doctor, staring at the ground for a long time, his posture hardly changing.

He didn't touch any equipment, didn't interfere with anyone's work, and remained as quiet as a stone. Occasionally, a police officer would pass by him, but he wouldn't even look up.

Team Leader Wang withdrew his gaze and mentally assessed the situation: at least he kept his word and meant it.

After he finished filing a set of photos, he received a phone call from a leader in the bureau. The leader's tone wasn't stern, but the message he conveyed was clear: hurry, be quick, the faster the better!

After hanging up the phone, Captain Wang took a deep breath, walked over to the old forensic doctor, and asked directly, "How's the on-site collection going? How much longer do you expect it to take?"

The words were clearly laced with pressure and urging. Xiao Qu, who had been listening intently to the strange conversation between her master and Consultant Qin, was startled by Captain Wang's question and immediately lowered her head, her hands moving two beats faster on their own.

The swabs used for evidence collection moved much more smoothly in the tile grout than before.

The pressure of a murder case is something that those outside the field can hardly understand. Once a murder occurs, it's not just the victim's family that has to explain; the eyes of superiors, public opinion, and the media will inevitably gather around, and all these forces combined create a net that tightens and tightens.

If no substantial progress is made within the golden timeframe, pressure from both inside and outside will come from all directions, enough to overwhelm the entire task force.

Captain Wang's pressure wasn't because he lacked patience, but because he knew all too well what time meant—if it dragged on for more than 72 hours, the case-solving rate would plummet.

The veteran forensic pathologist certainly knew the importance of things. He had spent most of his life as a forensic pathologist, and had seen too many cases fall apart at the last minute, and too many clues disappear forever because they were not collected in time.

But many things don't necessarily go as planned just because you try your best.

Physical evidence won't just spring out from a crack in the floor because investigators are in a hurry, and fingerprints won't glow under ultraviolet light just because superiors are pushing hard.

Professional matters cannot be rushed.

He replied cautiously, "There are no obvious signs of cleaning. If this is the primary crime scene, then we should be able to obtain a lot of reliable information."

This statement is quite skillful. "No obvious signs of cleaning" is good news, meaning that the perpetrator most likely did not perform a systematic site cleanup.

The statement "If this is indeed the primary crime scene" is an extremely important open-ended judgment. Because before confirmation, any absolute conclusion is simply digging a hole for oneself.

The veteran forensic doctor didn't offer the assurances that Captain Wang most wanted to hear, but rather the most honest assessment he could provide within the scope of his expertise.

Captain Wang let out a soft breath. He wasn't a newbie on his first case, and he knew this was the best answer the veteran forensic doctor could give.

But the tension won't ease; it will remain taut and strained until the case is fully solved.

"The golden time to solve a case is seventy-two hours. Some clues will be lost over time, as everyone knows."

He raised his voice a few decibels so that it could reach everyone in the room who were engrossed in their work, "Everyone, give it your all, work harder, and once the case is solved, I'll submit a report requesting that we get a proper rest!"

Everyone present knew that landing would be difficult, but saying "reporting" and "resting" together was at least a moral boost.

Many of the faces hidden behind protective gear had a slight upturn at the corners of their mouths.

Xiao Qu sniffed and straightened her back a bit.

The fatigue from the repetitive and subtle movements was somewhat dispelled by this bit of mental encouragement.

Qin Ming, however, was not tired at all. In fact, he was even enjoying it.

Since mastering the ability of passive filtering, he has set the precision of his mental energy to the highest level, playing a "spot the difference" game at the crime scene that only he can see.

Every investigator was using their professional expertise to sift through clues, but Qin Ming was using his mental strength—a comprehensive, fiber-level scan.

The luster of the hair, the texture of the cuticle, and the way the ends break under the mind's probing are all clearly visible. It's like writing on a blank sheet of paper with different colored pens. To an outsider, they all look like black ink, but to him, they are red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and purple.

He found a total of eight hairs and dander that did not match the mainstream traces but looked quite fresh.

Of course, Qin Ming didn't speak out loudly again.

He quietly observed to see if anyone else had discovered these things. If they hadn't been discovered, he would then fix the problem.

As a result, most of them were discovered.

Of the eight anomalies, five were marked, collected, and bagged by different police officers during the subsequent on-site investigation.

They didn't use mental strength, but rather experience and procedures.

They may not be able to see whether the cross-section of a hair is triangular or elliptical, but they know which locations are most likely to retain useful material.

Qin Ming watched as those gloved, nimble and steady hands collected one piece of evidence after another into an evidence bag, affixed numbered labels, and filled out the registration form line by line.

There are few people with his talent on Earth, but ordinary people are also contributing their share by relying on their accumulated experience and repeatedly verified standardized procedures.

His mental strength saved him time and improved his accuracy, but that doesn't mean ordinary people can't do it.

Those veteran crime scene investigators who have handled thousands of cases throughout their careers possess, in a sense, another form of "mental strength" in their eyes and hands.

Slower, rougher, but just as accurate, just as reliable.

Qin Ming seemed to understand something, and finally had time to let his thoughts wander and think about something else.

The crime was committed by someone known to the victim.

He pondered in his mind the initial assessment given by Captain Wang.

This means that the perpetrator and the victim had some connection, and the perpetrator was likely within the victim's social network.

Finding clues within one's circle of acquaintances is much easier than finding a needle in a haystack.

But the problem is that finding clues is only the first step. How to secure evidence, how to connect isolated pieces of physical evidence into a complete chain of evidence, making this chain tight and strong enough to withstand the layers of review by the prosecutor's office, and ultimately bring the murderer to justice in court.

This is the real highlight.

So before clear clues could be found in social relationships and online information, Captain Wang focused his attention here, on every strand of hair, every piece of skin, and every fingerprint.

Confessions can be recanted, motives can be argued, but physical evidence doesn't lie. Once the chain of evidence is established, even a person with zero confessions can't escape punishment.

The atmosphere at the scene was serious and urgent.

Everyone is working at high speed in their own positions, and the occasional whispered exchange is just a handover of work.

Qin Ming didn't know anyone here, and Wang Dui was under immense pressure, so he really wasn't in the mood to exchange pleasantries with this consultant who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Qin Ming understood, but when he came back to his senses from the spot-the-difference game, he felt a little uncomfortable, and then he touched his stomach and realized he was hungry.

He shifted his stance, becoming even more uncomfortable.

He gets hungry suddenly, without warning, and with a perfectly justified urge to be hungry. How can his stomach be so unreliable?

Just then, the old forensic doctor straightened up and pounded his lower back with the back of his hand.

He's getting old, and although he's very experienced, his energy is definitely not what it used to be for a young person in their twenties or thirties.

After bending over and squatting for most of the afternoon, my old lumbar spine problem showed up right on time, aching and throbbing as if someone was slowly sawing it with a dull knife.

He caught a glimpse of Qin Ming touching his stomach, and his eyes twitched almost imperceptibly.

"Xiao Qu." He patted his apprentice's shoulder, took off his disposable gloves and threw them into a waste bag. "Go out and buy some food, bring it back and share it with everyone to replenish your energy. It's this late, we can't keep going like this, we need to eat to have the strength to keep working."

Then he changed the subject, looking at Qin Ming: "Advisor Qin, he doesn't know your tastes or dietary restrictions, would you like to include them?"

Qin Ming immediately agreed.

His acceptance of the offer was so straightforward that even the old forensic doctor was taken aback.

Normally, someone in the role of an external consultant would be expected to be polite and decline, saying "No trouble at all," but Qin Ming didn't follow any of the formalities and simply nodded.

He was really hungry.

He suspected that mental energy was taking a toll on his body in the spiritually scarce environment of Earth. After using it for a while, he got really hungry, so hungry that he could empathize with Little Fatty.

A few minutes later.

After indulging in a hearty meal and even ordering another serving, Qin Ming sighed contentedly, then suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, by the way, Officer Qu, will we get the results tonight for the first batch of evidence we sent for testing today?"

He asked about several items that the old forensic doctor had specially labeled, including the particular hair he pointed out.

Xiao Qu was busy packing the food her cook had prepared into bags when she heard this and looked up: "It should be ready soon. The cook put on an expedited label, and I heard the testing schedule isn't too tight tonight, so it should be able to—"

Before he could finish speaking, his phone rang.

Xiao Qu took out her phone, glanced at the caller ID, answered it, listened for a few words, and let out a low gasp of surprise.

Then he turned to look at Qin Ming, his expression completely changed—no longer looking at an ordinary consultant, but at something that couldn't be explained by common sense.

"Advisor, that hair you mentioned earlier really worked!"

His voice trembled slightly with excitement, and he even held the phone to his ear. "The testing team said they detected DNA that doesn't belong to the victim, and there were traces of blood residue! It's been classified as key evidence!"

"My God, you just stood there and glanced at it, without touching a single one! How did you do that? Amazing, truly amazing!"

Qin Ming scratched his head. He was mentally prepared for the outcome, but he seemed to have underestimated the impact this would have on ordinary investigators.

"Officer Qu, calm down." He coughed lightly, trying to reduce the drama of the matter.

Xiao Qu put down her phone, placed the takeout box on the table, turned around solemnly, clasped her hands in front of her, and looked as solemn as if she could take an oath at any moment.

"No, please call me Xiao Qu."

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P.S.: It's late, but it's still Fat Chapter! ᴗ'ᴗ' ի