Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: The Greatest Mercy?

 Haozi's fingers flew over the keyboard like a pianist playing a soul-stirring melody, his body swaying involuntarily with the rhythm. At the 30-second mark, he froze, whistled at the screen, and eyed the beauty in masculine attire with disbelief. "Xu Zhe, this girl's no ordinary recruit!" Haozi chuckled weirdly. "Graduated top of her class from National Law School in 2003, 24 years old, taekwondo black belt, trained in kickboxing and karate. Hopped between police, commerce, tax, even sanitation departments—none lasted. Every review praises 'excellent skills' but calls her 'unmanageable, insubordinate.' Joined NSB three months ago as Secretary to Minister Huang in Political Affairs. A month ago, she 'misplaced' his 'little treasure'—he's still in the hospital." "It wasn't *burst*…" Wu Qian mumbled. "Just… displaced and twisted. He propositioned me first! Self-defense!" "No wonder the chief dumped her on us—payback," Ouyang deduced. Minister Huang was the chief's brother-in-law, after all. "Figures. So capable—why join us? Don't women fear ghosts and gods?" Xu Zhe leaped off the desk, rummaged through his luggage, and pulled out a basin, towel, toothbrush, clothes—like moving in. He brushed past Wu Qian's disgusted stare and headed for the office's private bathroom. "Is *that* what an agent looks like?" Wu Qian muttered, watching his lazy stride. "You'll change your mind if you survive. Xu Zhe's the best we have. Found him in a psych ward eight years ago—never doubted it since," Ouyang said firmly, unaware his praise only deepened her disdain for the "lunatic." "Everyone busy?" The office door swung open, revealing the portly chief from that morning, all smiles like a sleazy PR rep, minus the charm. "Ah, our esteemed chief! Meet our 'benefactor' for the foreseeable future. Memorize his face—we'll be mooching off him, so greet him warmly," Ouyang introduced, making the chief's smile twitch. "Hello, benefactor!" the agents chorused, bowing theatrically. "Nonsense—we're all public servants!" the chief preened, oblivious to the irony of "serving" himself. "I brought the preliminary autopsy report and victim files." He placed a folder on Ouyang's desk and scurried away like fleeing a plague. "Is it just me, or does everyone hate our team?" Wu Qian blurted, her bluntness why no department kept her. Who wants a whistleblower beside a corrupt colleague? "Not hate—fear. You'll learn what it means to be on the 'fringe'…" Haozi corrected, joining the others around Ouyang. "Autopsy matches my theory," Ouyang said casually, flipping pages. "Thirteen victims, all under 25, no other injuries—heads bitten off. Each male had intense sex before death, bordering on exhaustion. Fluid samples from their genitals? All from the same woman." "No way—a single woman drained thirteen men? Bullshit!" Tiechui shuddered. "Let's trust 'science'…" Ouyang said pointedly. The racy details pricked Wu Qian's ears. She stayed back, but every word reached her, her fair cheeks flushing—proof she was still human. "Victim identities are odd. Six confirmed: students, office workers, waiters. All matched to missing persons reports—disappeared three days ago," Haozi noted, scrolling. "Abducted by the killer?" Xu Zhe's voice drifted from the bathroom. The door swung open, releasing a cloud of steam. Wu Qian's jaw dropped. Gone was the slob: now stood a man in a tight black t-shirt, a long black trench coat, faded jeans, and leather loafers. Shaven, his face was clean-cut; damp black hair clung to his head, sharp and alert. Though only 1.75m, his lean frame carried itself with unexpected poise. "Christ on a stick…" Wu Qian breathed. Ignoring her stare, Xu Zhe shouldered through the crowd, snatched the folder from Ouyang, and skimmed it rapidly. "The killer is female-presenting, likely a young beauty—easier to lure victims. Master of mind-control sorcery, ruthless—she doesn't just drainvital energy, she takes lives. Keeping prey for three days, biting heads off… Not a typical Chinese ghost. Probably foreign." He snapped the folder shut, handing it back—plan already formed. "Won't be hard to find." "Xu Zhe, can you slow down? Every case wraps in days, and we're back to begging for crumbs!" Tiechui groaned, clapping his shoulder in mock pleading. "Too dangerous to drag out." Xu Zhe's tone brooked no argument. "Go—ignore this idiot's whining," Ouyang murmured. "Haozi, my car…" Xu Zhe began, but Haozi tossed him a key mid-sentence. "Brought it, but 'Mary' needs a major overhaul." Mary was Xu Zhe's car's name. "Let's go." He turned for the door, paused, and glanced at Wu Qian. "Can you drive?" "C license since college. Why?" He flung the key to her—she caught it, eyes widening at the Ferrari logo. "Listen: if you panic or freeze, I won't care if you're valedictorian. I'll kill you before anyone else does. That's my greatest 'mercy'." His gaze was ice—no joke. The Paranormal Investigation Division's mission… begins!