On November 27, at 22:39 pm, a hotel in Linyi.

Skram lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling; he had been lying like this for half an hour, still without any sleepiness.

Many clues about the case were tangled in his mind, difficult to sort out and difficult to ignore.

Although his main task this time was not to investigate the case, but to "investigate the identity of the person who may be involved in this incident and to find out his abilities as much as possible", it seems that both his mission and the truth of the case itself are in a deadlock.

"well……"

With a long sigh, he finally got up.

He washed his face, put on a sportswear, and left the hotel.

He must wear a suit when performing official duties in public during the day, which is the organization's rule; but now, he can wear clothes that make him feel more comfortable.

Actually, Skram doesn't like suits, he doesn't like them very much.

He was once a soldier, or he is still now; his "Lieutenant" rank was not given by EAS, but was sold on the battlefield before joining EAS.

Unfortunately, even though he had been on the front line for many years and had made enough military achievements to move him to a higher position, his background, or the class in which his family was located, became a gap on his path to promotion.

Of course, he would feel unwilling to accept this...

Why can those young men who have never smelled the smell of gunpowder go to the military school? Why can they become commanders as soon as they graduate? These boastful young men use the blood of soldiers to water their resumes and use their subordinates' career to pay for their mistakes. If a drop of blood is shed, they can become generals. And soldiers like him who come from the bottom of society, even if they make great contributions, they still have no chance to make a comeback.

Is this fair?

He asked himself this question countless times in his heart, but... he never thought about answering it.

Because he thinks this question is stupid, people who think about it seriously will be even stupider.

In short, today, at least in terms of position, Skram is no longer affiliated with the federal army; in a sense, he has to thank a young master who is sitting in the command center talking on paper...

If there was no "blind command" from his superiors, Skram would not have been captured in one operation; if he had not been captured, he would not have been tortured; if he had not been tortured by various tortures beyond the limits of human beings during the torture process, his superpowers would not have awakened... If the superpowers had not awakened, he would not have been requisitioned by EAS.

Whether it is a blessing in disguise or a disaster, life is sometimes so magical: you never know whether the next chapter of your life is a piece of light or covered with shit. All you can do is continue to turn back, don’t give up, stick to it until the light comes, or just drown by shit.

…………

At 23:03, Sunshine Adolescent Behavior Correction Center.

Skram came here while running. Although the hotel he stayed in is not close to here, for people like him, running without weight on the flat roads of the city, wearing sneakers and walking is basically the same as walking. Within five kilometers, he won't even breathe.

"Who?" As Skram approached the gate of the building, the police officer who was standing guard soon noticed him and came forward to inquire.

"Shhh... it's me." Skram turned off the cap of his sportswear and showed his face under the street lights. "Speak quietly, if there are reporters nearby, you will attract them like this."

"Sir." After seeing his face clearly, the policeman immediately stood attentively and took a look.

"Okay, don't salute, go back to your post." Having said that, Skram still responded to the other party's federal military salute in a very standardized manner, "I want to go to the scene to see it, the length of time is not necessarily... Just say hello to each unit on the walkie-talkie."

"Yes." The policeman responded, then turned around and went back, pressed the walkie-talkie on his left chest while walking and began to report.

Skram quickly walked through the gate and entered the main building of the correction center.

At this time, although there was power supply in the building, the lights were not turned on. Of course, for people in this era, it was common sense to take out their mobile phones as flashlights.

Skram relied on his cell phone to search from the first floor and continued to the fifth floor. In the process, he tried to imagine himself as another person - Che Wuchen two days ago.

He strictly followed Che Wuchen's description, imitated the other party's actions, and calculated the time.

From 18:36 Che Wuchen arrived at the scene, to 19:25 he called the police with the phone in the monitoring room. It was 49 minutes in total. What happened in these 49 minutes? It was always difficult for Scram to let go.

Maybe this is just Skram's unilateral random thoughts, maybe the other party's testimony is the fact, but no matter what, he still wants to verify it again. Even if it is futile, it can at least make himself give up.

…………

39 minutes later, Scram stood in Professor Tang's office.

His verification was over. He had searched all the rooms, and the monitoring room was next door; however, the time he spent ten minutes shorter than that of Che Wuchen.

So...where have you been going in these ten minutes?

Skram let out a long sigh and simply sat down on Uncle Tang's comfortable office chair, resting and thinking: "Is it because I am moving too fast? It is indeed possible. After all, everyone's searching rhythm and efficiency are different. Agent Car was acting under a warning state that he might encounter ambush at any time, while I was searching when I knew that the room was empty...

"But if it wasn't for the time difference...what could he do in these ten minutes?

"Delete the video? Destroy the evidence? These reasonings were overturned by him this morning. As he said... If he was really a complicitor, there was no need to participate in the case in this form, or he could completely let the police not notice his existence and get things done.

"No matter how you think about it, he can't be a conspirator of the prisoner... Not only does it make sense, it's difficult to fabricate a motive out of thin air that can support this behavior.

"So...is I really a stubborn person?"

If Skram wants to classify from the perspective of detectives, he should be considered a traditional American hard-core detective, that is, the kind of activist who relies on case handling experience and intuition to lock in the suspects and use efficient, fast and tough means to promote the investigation.

Compared with the logically rigorous and rational interpreter, the shortcomings of this type of detective are very obvious - the upper limit is insufficient.

In ordinary cases, this problem may not be obvious, and even the activist may appear more efficient; but in some cases where the case is more complicated or the murderer is smart enough, the activist may often encounter bottlenecks or wrongly accuse good people.

Moreover, there is another problem with the activist, which is that it is easy to over-invest in a certain case. Especially when encountering such major unsolved cases... the more they are beyond their ability, the more they cannot extricate themselves.

Sometimes, in the absence of evidence, they will stare at a suspect with the idea of ​​"I know it must be him"; this practice is not so much a detective's attitude as a politician's attitude, that is, the practice of "selecting a position before hearing the problem, and then considering the problem from the selected position."

Using this model, even if you catch the right person in the end, it is just luck and a gambler-like victory.

Even if justice objectively upholds society, it is subjectively the self-satisfaction of a gambler.

Skram, now he is trapped in this emotion... Due to his lack of reasoning ability, he can only struggle with suspicion and self-persuasion of Che Wuchen.

Before he knew it, he sat on the chair and was fascinated.

"What!" I don't know how long it took, but suddenly, Skram's out-of-focused gaze touched something, which made him so shocked that he stood up from the chair.

That second, with the light of his cell phone, he found that in a corner under the desk, there was a small area with different colors than the surroundings.

It is difficult to find this strange thing during the day or when the room is full of lights, but when you use the light from your phone in this darkness, you can see the light reflected from that place and the marks of dust around you... together outline a neat rectangle.

Skram's heartbeat was accelerating, and the feeling of blood rushing to his forehead made him extremely awake and excited.

He immediately leaned over, got under the table and observed carefully. After a brief hesitation, he reached out and gently pressed the board.

Immediately afterwards, the board pops up and slowly opens, revealing the mini touch screen on the back; the screen directly shows an interface for entering the password.

According to the number of bits on the interface, this is a six-digit password; although the number of bits is not large, it is unlikely to try it out in a short period of time, and I don’t know if there will be any security locks and other measures after multiple input errors.

So, Skram did not rashly enter.

He sat back on the office chair, looked around the room from that angle, and collected all the information he could collect within his eyes.

According to his experience, such "passwords used in a specific place" may be recorded by users near the use location; just like many people like to use sticky notes to paste the digital information they want to use at work on the wall panels around their desks, or simply stick them around their computer monitors, so that they can see it with a glance when they are about to use it.

Unfortunately, after searching for five minutes, Skram was unable to find any prompt information containing numbers in the room.

He thought about it again, and suddenly had an idea and got back under the table again.

He squatted in front of the touch screen, looked up... Sure enough, on the side of the desk facing down, he wrote six numbers with an oily pen; only by squatting in his current position, holding the light source facing upwards, can he see it.

Scram did not hesitate to enter the six numbers onto the screen and received feedback from "accept".

scold--

Two seconds later, accompanied by the sound of air valve relieving pressure, the bookshelf behind Professor Tang's desk... opened.

It is indeed a real bookshelves, and the ones on it are also real books, but this bookshelves also have the function of electronic doors.

Seeing this, Skram stepped sideways and came out from under the table. Then he stood up straight, leaning against the bookshelf, ready to flash into the "secret room" behind the wall.

At this moment, although he was not carrying a gun, he was not afraid because he was a capable person; in most cases, superpowers were more deadly and reliable than conventional weapons.

"Is anyone? I'm a policeman." He raised his voice slightly before entering and shouted inside.

His doing so is both in line with procedures and in line with reason.

Suppose there is someone in this secret room, he must have noticed that the door was opened - if the person inside is a surviving victim, he can prevent the other party from reacting excessively; and if the person inside is a prisoner, then if he says or not, the other party will attack him, and there is no difference.

Time passed quietly, and ten seconds later, the response to him was still silent.

Scram stopped waiting. He tightened his nerves and was ready to face the raid. He flashed into the secret room. However... only one dead person came into his eyes.

He was a man in a white coat, in his fifties, and had a face that still made people feel hypocritical even after death. The so-called appearance is born from the heart, it is roughly the case.

Skram had seen the photo and he knew that the deceased was Professor Tang.

At this moment, Professor Tang's body was tied to a bed with a fixed belt, and an electric shock instrument was connected to his head. A man like Skram who is used to death can tell that the man in front of him is dead based on his smell alone, and the death lasts about two days.

However, out of caution, Skram walked forward, explored the pulse of the deceased, poked the degree of the zombie zombie, and verified his inference.

"Hu..." Because the secret room is not big and there is no place to hide, Skram quickly confirmed that there was no one else in it except Professor Tang. "...Anyway, a missing person was found." He murmured to himself, and began to inspect the room, trying to find some new clues.

But in the end, what he found was...

"Tsk..." Two minutes later, Skram picked up a USB drive found in the safe in the corner of the secret room to his phone, and opened one of the videos...a video that made him feel disgusted and angry.

"This old beast..." After watching a little, he turned off the video and began to check how many such files were in the entire USB drive.

Even if Skram's reasoning ability is not good, he could guess that the videos that Professor Tang took in this secret room were either to satisfy his personal perverted hobbies, or to take them out for money through some means.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but forget his identity as a law enforcement officer and secretly said to the death of Professor Tang and the employees in the center.

But he quickly calmed down and began to think about doubts...

"Why is the safe open?" Scram said softly, "and... since someone opened it, why didn't they take away these things?"

The safe he mentioned is a high-security private storage cabinet designed by an insurance company under the "Shenguang Group". It must be opened with an electronic key, voiceprint password, and a complex multi-hand password input.
To be continued...