The police have already cordoned off the scene. The forensic team was busy going in and out, examining the site.

The head of the Huashi District sub-bureau, Matthew Miller, was personally stationed at the scene, waiting specifically for William Carter and his team.

He was a middle-aged man whose baldness extended down to his face. His two sorrowful eyebrows were so sparse they were barely visible, and sweat was pouring down his forehead. He came up personally, grabbing William Carter's hand and shaking it up and down three times. “To trouble the city bureau leadership and have you all come here in person—I really feel terrible about it.”

William Carter smiled kindly. “Brother, why are you still being so formal with me?”

Matthew Miller was a master at building relationships but mediocre at actual work. Hearing this, he immediately played along, switching to calling William Carter “brother” as well, and began pouring out his grievances to his new “little brother” non-stop.

William Carter took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and handed it to Matthew Miller, while signaling to Eric Harris with his eyes to take Samuel Reed and go check out the scene first.

“It was someone familiar, definitely someone familiar,” Matthew Miller said, taking a drag on his cigarette before getting down to business. His beady eyes darted around restlessly. “Look at this place—so complicated and maze-like. Outsiders wouldn’t be able to find their way at all. In your own home, if you so much as fart, your neighbors can tell what you had for lunch. How would an outsider dare to commit a crime here? Young Carter, you’re the expert—don’t you think that makes sense?”

At such a sensitive time, the last thing Matthew Miller wanted was a roaming robber-murderer in his jurisdiction, so he was desperate to pin it on “someone familiar, a personal grudge.”

William Carter didn’t respond to that, instead taking off his sunglasses and hooking them onto his collar. He squinted toward the busy forensic team, replying perfunctorily, “I’m just a nobody trying to get by—how could I pretend to be an expert in front of you?”

“Aren’t we all just trying to get by?” Matthew Miller sighed, spreading his hands. “Come on, let’s go take a look.”

The newly formed “Get-By Duo” walked into the scene side by side. They saw a young man with a buzz cut and glasses animatedly explaining the situation to Eric Harris and Samuel Reed. The young man was very tall, his face covered in acne, standing stiff and straight like a coffin board cut into human shape, and he spoke at a breakneck speed.

“This is our new guy, Little Jason, Jason Turner,” Matthew Miller pointed and introduced. “He’s a top student—scored first in the written exam when he got in. Little Jason, this is the city bureau’s Captain Carter.”

Jason Turner instinctively straightened up, making a motion like standing at attention, his jaw clenched tight. He gave William Carter a terse nod and greeted him in a few words: “Captain Carter.”

“No need to be so formal,” William Carter smiled at him. “Go on.”

A moment ago, Jason Turner had been taciturn, but as if William Carter's words had flipped a switch, a torrent of words poured out of his mouth, nearly drowning everyone in front of him: “There are no contusions from a struggle on the victim, but there are signs of blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Preliminary judgment is that he was knocked out from behind, then strangled to death with a soft cloth belt. After death, his valuables were taken, and a note was placed on his forehead. Because the victim was strangled while unconscious, there are no signs of struggle at the scene. The soft rope used to strangle him and the blunt object used to hit his head haven’t been found. There’s also no concrete evidence that this is the actual crime scene. Report complete!”

He started off fine, but as soon as he finished that last sentence, Matthew Miller's face immediately turned green. “If there’s no evidence, why are you talking nonsense? If this isn’t the crime scene, then what is it? Are you saying this is a body dump? Why would anyone dump a body here—what’s the benefit? Don’t make wild guesses and confuse everyone!”

Jason Turner looked at him blankly. “I was just saying it’s a possibility…”

Matthew Miller was about to lose his temper, but William Carter reached out to stop him. “Kids new to the job have a lot of ideas. It’s interesting to hear them out.”

He looked up at the surroundings. The entire western district of Huashi felt gray and gloomy. Tangled, messy power lines hung heavily overhead, slicing up the rare clear sky in Yancheng into fragments. It was extremely oppressive.

“Ask around the neighborhood—maybe someone heard something,” William Carter said. “Also, I think Director Miller’s general direction is spot on. Let’s not consider extreme scenarios for now and focus on the ‘familiar person’ angle for the investigation. Brother, does that sound good to you?”

Young Carter might not be the easiest to deal with, but his way of handling things suited Matthew Miller just fine. The two hit it off immediately, greatly saving on communication costs.

What followed was endless canvassing and investigation—work for the sub-bureau’s overworked detectives, not the “technical advisors.” Their main job was to sit in the sub-bureau office, drink tea, monitor progress, and wait to catch Matthew Miller slipping up.

But Eric Harris quietly said to William Carter, “Boss, you guys go ahead. I’d still like to walk around the area with them.”

Eric Harris’s name sounded gentle, and he looked delicate and refined. He’d never argued with anyone or spoken harshly. He treated both colleagues and suspects with the same gentle touch, always seeming easy to get along with. But William Carter had been his partner since they both started working after graduation—he knew him all too well.