“They’re just a bunch of troublemaking little punks, taking photos with the dead and posting them online—don’t you think that’s just shameless? Chief, don’t worry, I’ve already detained those people, and we’re in the process of deleting the photos and posts. We can definitely get this under control!”

Director Clark leaned back in his chair, rubbing his brow repeatedly. “The most important thing right now is to solve the case as quickly as possible—catch the killer if there’s a killer, arrest the criminal if there’s a criminal. Deleting posts… what are you, an IT admin? This matter must be handled immediately, and keep your people’s mouths shut. I’ll send a few people from the city bureau over to give you technical guidance. Matthew Miller, if you can’t give me a satisfactory explanation within a week, write your own report and get out!”

Director Clark blasted the sub-bureau chief, slammed down the phone, and Little Scott quickly set aside the empty bucket, raising his little notebook, sensing the old chief might have something to say.

Sure enough, Director Clark gestured to him: “Go call the people from the Criminal Investigation Team over.”

Little Scott looked up. “Director Clark, should I call everyone?”

Director Clark paused for a moment, his gaze falling on the LCD screen in front of him—the face of the corpse in the photo was already grotesquely swollen and distorted, but it was still clear that it belonged to a young person. His mouth was open, as if in shock, staring blankly at the camera.

“Find William Carter, have him personally lead a team over,” Director Clark said. “The case might not be that complicated. Tell him that once this month is over, I’ll deal with that old fox Matthew Miller. He’ll know what to do.”

Little Scott: “……”

Director Clark looked at him over his reading glasses, puzzled.

“Chief, Director Clark,” Little Scott managed a strained smile, “Captain Carter… he’s not here yet.”

William Carter was the kind of guy who always clocked in at the last minute. As long as he wasn’t on duty, if he was supposed to be at work at 8:30, he’d never show up at his desk a minute before 8:29.

And today, his car was restricted from the road. Not wanting to squeeze onto the bus, William Carter simply dug out an old “28” bicycle from his basement—a relic fit for a museum—gave it a thorough overhaul himself, and wobbled his way onto the road.

He was strikingly handsome, almost radiating youthful energy, but his demeanor and bearing clearly marked him as a mature man. With earbuds in, shirt sleeves rolled up, the fitted casual shirt hinting at toned muscles beneath, and long legs that could easily reach the ground even on the old crossbar “28” bike. A stack of pancakes hung from the left handlebar, six or seven cups of soy milk dangled from the right. William Carter rested his hands casually on the overloaded handlebars and pedaled into the city bureau gate right on time.

As soon as he entered, William Carter saw the security guard stopping a flower delivery girl.

“No entry—why not? Miss, this is the police bureau, not Flower-Fruit Mountain, okay? All deliveries go to the mailroom at the entrance for security check and registration.”

“How can you leave fresh flowers in the mailroom? They’ll wilt!” The flower girl turned and spotted William Carter, pointing at him. “If I can’t go in, why can the food delivery guy?”

The guard: “……”

William Carter looked up and flashed a roguish white grin at the flower girl. “Because the food delivery guy is dashing and charming.”

The guard, worried about the bureau’s image, sighed: “…Morning, Captain Carter.”

“Morning. Had breakfast? If not, help yourself.” William Carter propped the bike with one foot. “Miss, who are the flowers for? I’ll take them in for you.”

The flower girl was flustered by him, hurriedly searching for the little card. “Oh… for the Criminal Investigation Team, for a Mr.—uh, Eric Harris.”

At exactly 8:30, William Carter walked into the office on time and tossed the flowers onto Eric Harris’s desk. “You…”

He had just started when Director Clark angrily sent someone to fetch him, so William Carter had to swallow the rest of his words, slapping his hand heavily on Eric Harris’s desk. “Wait till I get back.”

The entire Criminal Investigation Team was stunned, staring at the fresh bouquet on Officer Harris’s desk as if there were a time bomb hidden in the stems.

Officer Samuel Reed pulled out a magnifying glass and disposable gloves from her drawer, cautiously leaned over from the next desk, inspected the bouquet, and fished out a brown perfume card.

This brave young woman, under everyone’s watchful eyes, solemnly opened the card. On it, in neat calligraphy, was written: “The wind is fierce, my hands and feet are frozen, but my heart is warm. Yet I don’t know why, my heart feels so soft. I need to be near you, or else I’ll feel sad.”【Note】

“It’s signed ‘Fei’,” Samuel Reed said. “Fei who?”

Eric Harris snatched it back. “Cut it out, give it to me.”

“So after all that, it’s from your girlfriend. I thought Boss Carter was going to confess to you in public.”

A chorus of coworkers clutched their chests, exclaiming “scared me to death” one after another. Then, the many single folks instantly regained their fighting spirit, rushing forward to divvy up the breakfast William Carter had brought, while dutifully raising the banner of denouncing the “heretic.”

“Deputy Harris, when did you leave the singles club? Did you file a report? Did the organization approve?”

“Eric Jr. Harris is just not a team player, not cool.”

“Deputy Captain Harris, I’ve only got thirty-seven yuan and sixty cents left in my salary this month, can’t afford dog food anymore, so you’d better do something about it.”