The salty, fishy cold wind swept across the river, and a small patch of goosebumps suddenly rose on the boy’s back. He swallowed hard. “Let’s go.” Then he grabbed the girl and hurriedly turned around. They had barely taken two steps when they heard—

　　Rustle.

　　Rustle.

　　It sounded as if some huge reptile was swiftly slithering through the grass. Both of them froze at the same time. After a few seconds, the boy stiffly tilted his head, his eyes asking: Did you hear that too?

　　The girl’s pale face was hard to make out in the dim light. After a moment, she gave a stiff nod.

　　“……” The boy panted heavily, his eyes darting around. He picked up a dirty stone at random and gripped it tightly in his hand, then turned and shouted with forced bravado, “Who’s there?! Come out, damn it!”

　　The rain poured down, washing over everything, but there was no response. It was a good half minute before the boy’s tense shoulders relaxed a little, and he motioned for the girl to grab his arm, whispering, “Something’s wrong here, let’s get out of here—”

　　Just then.

　　Rustle—!

　　The bushes right beside them shook violently. A sudden sense of danger made the two young people shudder as if struck by lightning, but before they could retreat, it was already too late. In the blink of an eye, a huge ghostly shadow rose up almost right in front of their faces. The distant streetlight reflected off the river, illuminating half of its ghastly white skeleton. The flesh had rotted away completely, the nose cavity was just two black holes, the rows of teeth were exposed, and its eye sockets stared straight at them as it stepped forward—

　　That was no living person.

　　That was a skeleton!

　　“Ahhhhhhh—!”

　　A heart-piercing scream tore through the curtain of rain. In the distance, a train rumbled over the tracks, the roar mixing with the downpour, drowning out the last echoes.

　　·

　　The next day.

　　“Ahhhhhhh—”

　　A furious roar echoed through the hallway. Bang! The door was flung open, slamming hard against the wall. A burly man wielding a kitchen knife burst through the fire door, showered in falling plaster, and charged downstairs like a mad bull.

　　“Shit!” A plainclothes detective rushed out of the apartment, chased after him for a few steps, then decisively raised his walkie-talkie: “Team, team, a suspect has broken free with a knife and is escaping through the emergency exit. Request immediate backup! Repeat, request backup!”

　　“You never pay attention in class, your homework is a mess, you keep making me lose face every other day—if I’d known, I never would have given birth to you…” Outside the apartment building, a woman parked her electric scooter, scolding her child as she poked his head. She had just pushed open the security door to step inside when a fierce, menacing face lunged out from the emergency exit. The flash of a gleaming knife was suddenly right in front of her, and she screamed in terror: “Ahhh!!”

　　—The woman’s scream carried outside, to the police cars.

　　Logan Clark suddenly turned his head, and in the next second, like an arrow released from a bow, he charged toward the stairwell door!

　　The cops were already in pursuit, and now this damn woman had jumped out to block the way! The burly man’s bloodshot eyes rolled as he grabbed the knife and lunged to seize the terrified child—just as the kitchen knife came down, the woman desperately pushed her child back, turning her bony shoulders to face the blade. In an instant, the cold wind of the knife was at her ear!

　　Crash!

　　The second-floor hallway window shattered with a clang, and another figure dropped from above, showering glass shards everywhere, and kicked the burly man over the head!

　　“Son of a bitch…” The burly man’s head slammed into the concrete floor, blood instantly spurting across his face. The double shock of meth and searing pain drove him completely insane. He gripped the kitchen knife and charged at the newcomer, hacking wildly. But the newcomer didn’t hesitate for even half a second—he rolled to his feet, dodged the blade with a tilt of his head, and before the severed hair could hit the ground, he had already grabbed the man’s wrist like lightning. “Crack!” With a crisp twist, the wrist snapped, and the kitchen knife clattered to the floor at the same moment as the man’s scream!

　　“Hands up! Don’t move!”

　　“Team leader!”

　　Footsteps thundered down the stairs as the detectives rushed down. Ryan Foster pressed the burly man’s head down—“Bang!”—slamming his crazed, twisted face into the fire extinguisher cabinet, then yanked his bloodied head up by the hair, pulled out handcuffs and snapped them on, and tossed him to his subordinates.

　　A middle-aged female detective, the team’s only female field officer, Henry Carter, strode forward: “Are you all right, Foster's Team?”

　　The suspect’s face was covered in blood and glass shards, screaming in pain as two officers pulled a hood over his head and dragged him out of the hallway. The police tape, which hadn’t been set up in time due to the emergency, was finally stretched out, cordoning off a space in front of the building. Five or six hooded “homewreckers” crouched beside two police SUVs, looking like lost dogs, while crowds of off-duty onlookers pressed in behind the blue-and-white tape.

　　Meanwhile, the mother and child were being supported by a rookie cop, both trembling. The child sobbed, sniffling, “Mom, are you okay? Mom, I promise I’ll do my homework from now on…”

　　Ryan Foster didn’t answer Henry Carter. He withdrew his gaze, his face dark as water:

　　“—Where’s the new guy?”

　　Several detectives nearby: “……”

　　Logan Clark quietly tried to slip away.

　　But as soon as he moved his foot, Ryan Foster, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, turned and pinned him with a sharp glare, then grabbed him by the collar and yanked Logan Clark out from behind the crowd, pointing at the mother and child:

　　“I told you to watch the perimeter and not let any residents into the building. What the hell were you doing?!”