Criminal Psychology

Wang Chao rubbed his eyes, feeling very confused.

The world was so big, and his personal strength was so weak, that it seemed useless to do anything.

He typed on the keyboard and wrote a line of inexplicable code. Thinking about some past events, he felt somewhat discouraged.

At this moment, he felt someone’s hand on his neck—a large hand with thick calluses on the joints and fingertips. Of course, Wang Chao knew whose hand this was. This action had a gentle and comforting meaning, and he turned his head in surprise.

“Go sleep for a while.”

“Boss…”

Xing Conglian said, “Have some confidence. Go to sleep first.”

“The virus…”

‘How could I possibly have confidence?’ Wang Chao thought.

“First of all, this is a piece of propaganda material. Regardless of whether they are ready to use it, when we see it, they can only continue stubbornly.”

Stirred by this point, Wang Chao seemed to grasp something key. “They can’t hide anymore, can they? They can only prepare for a decisive battle?”

“If in the next phase, a large amount of material related to the Borna virus appears on the Internet, it proves that they are probably at the end of their strength,” Xing Conglian said.

The alarm for the monitor in the lower right corner of the computer went off.

He opened it immediately.

In the pop-up window, the “virus” and “contagious” related keywords he had set were explosively increasing in geometric numbers, exceeding the safety threshold.

“It’s started.” He turned the screen around to show his boss. The faces of everyone inside and outside the screen tightened. But having known in advance what was going to happen, he didn’t feel helpless.

“A cornered dog will leap over the wall*, heh.” Xing Conglian extinguished his cigarette.

*(狗急跳墙了) It’s a metaphor often used to refer to when bad guys are desperate, they will go all out to make trouble.

“What should we do next?” Wang Chao asked.

Xing Conglian thought for a moment and said, “I’ll make a call to Su Fengzi.”

Before his words fell, the mobile phone on the table lit up.

The incoming call was from an unknown number. Wang Chao shivered, immediately wanting to find the signal tracking device. But Xing Conglian, as if sensing something in advance, answered the phone with a gloomy face.

“Captain Xing… I am Chu Wei from the detention center.”

“Chu Wei.”

“Well… Consultant Lin is on the hospital rooftop. We’re not professionals, so we dare not persuade him… What do you think…”

Wang Chao was close enough to hear the careful wording inside. He stiffened, and all drowsiness disappeared.

“I see.” Xing Conglian paused for a long time, then said, “Tell your people to back off and not disturb him.”

After saying that, he looked at the two people in the video call and said, “Sorry.”

Then he abruptly closed his laptop and rubbed his face heavily.

But his device had already received the public sentiment warning, so the reaction from the command center wouldn’t be too slow.

Less than two minutes after hanging up the hospital’s call, Xing Conglian received the next call from Minister Shen. He had a premonition and answered the call directly, saying, “Wait for me for three minutes. I will report the situation in three minutes.”

Then he hung up.

The time left for Xing Conglian to think was very short.

On one hand, there was his A’Chen Gege, who was in a terrible situation, and on the other, the desperate culprits.

Wang Chao saw everything, but he didn’t know what to do other than feeling anxious.

Xing Conglian held his phone, opened the contacts, and slid his finger over the list of names.

He rubbed the edge of his phone, deep in thought.

Just when Wang Chao thought he would call A’Chen Gege, he saw his boss put the phone to his ear, and a moment later he said, “Fengzi, here’s the situation…”

Xing Conglian began to briefly explain the latest developments in the case to one of his allies.

Su Fengzi listened to the call for a while, and without any further teasing, he said, “The Borna virus probably hasn’t achieved its most efficient means of transmission, so they want to create mass panic with the drug and the virus. But either of these, we don’t have an effective way to suppress in the short term.”

“Right.”

“What about Lin Chen? Hasn’t Shen Lian loosened up yet? She’s waiting for a lifesaver.”

“Shen Lian tried committing suicide and is still being rescued.”

Su Fengzi’s breath hitched, but he sharply asked, “You’re avoiding the question directly. Did Lin Chen get stimulated? Is he not doing well?”

Xing Conglian took a deep breath and told the truth. “He’s on the hospital rooftop.”

“I see. Don’t tell him about the BDV virus for now. Tell him when he’s calmed down.” Su Fengzi was very decisive.

“I was thinking the same.” Xing Conglian said, “But I need a brief plan of action for dealing with public sentiment control and the potential for mass panic.”

“I’ll write a brief plan for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sister*.” Su Fengzi was unusually irritable. “How is Lin Chen…”

*Clarity: He’s teasing Xing Conglian since Lin Chen is his “brother (shidi)”.

But Xing Conglian didn’t answer and hung up the phone.

Wang Chao checked the time. There was one minute left before his boss was scheduled to report the situation. At this moment, his boss looked at him with a firm gaze. “Find some people’s numbers for me, then go to sleep. You have two hours to rest.”

……

Lin Chen just wanted to go to the rooftop to get some fresh air.

The temperature in the early morning was neither hot nor cold, with blue skies and white clouds, not as suffocating as the doorway to the operating room.

Images of Shen Lian’s self-mutilation would spontaneously emerge before his eyes; the blood gushing from her mouth and that blue pencil were particularly vivid.

Sometimes Lin Chen could even see white bone stubs, although he wasn’t sure if that was imagined or if it had actually happened.

But none of that mattered now.

He sat down cross-legged, leaning against the concrete wall with his hands hanging on his legs, feeling the cool ground.

Because of the construction of the rooftop, if he wanted to find a place to lean his back against, he would be close to the edge of the rooftop.

He probably knew that it looked like he was about to commit suicide, but he didn’t have the energy to care about everyone’s feelings.

He was indeed very tired.

To be honest, although he always felt that he had bad luck, he didn’t really believe in destiny.

Furthermore, he didn’t believe in sayings like “justice will eventually come” or “the truth might be late, but it will never be absent”.

The role of feel-good phrases was to let people in desperate situations hold onto their beliefs and persevere, but the downside was also very clear: People may think that it’s the high and mighty justice of heaven at work.

But in reality, there was no such thing as heaven being fair, and everyone was treated like grass.

Those who truly fought for justice and truth were humans.

But it was precisely because there was no heavenly justice that humans often felt helpless.

Lin Chen closed his eyes.

Although the weather around him was clear, he felt like he was still standing in the narrow bathroom of the detention center.

He was propping himself against the sink, as if he were split into two people.

One side was dark, the other was bright.

One side was filled with despair and loneliness, while the other was fragmented and colorful due to the reflection of the colored paper.

He was thinking of Huang Weiwei.

The vague smile of the girl appeared on the colored paper.

As he looked at her, she smiled back at him.

If there was really such a thing as heavenly justice, or if people’s fate was determined by their goodness or badness, then Huang Weiwei had the most reason to stand in the end.

But Huang Weiwei was dead.

He thought of Song Shengsheng.

He racked his brains, trying to find a precise phrase to sum up Song Shengsheng.

Such a beautiful life.

This was the only phrase he could think of.

But, Song Shengsheng was dead.

Of course, this cause-and-effect relationship wasn’t very clear.

But how could there be such a clear cause and effect?

Whether it was Fang Zhiming or Xu Ran, what reasons did they have to die?

And the four people.

Four people in exchange for thousands of innocent lives—what a profitable deal. They should have chosen it…

Then everything would have ended.

Lin Chen knew that he was now splitting hairs. The person who should be responsible for all this is the murderer, not God.

But since there was a murderer, they should stop him, not stand by and watch as tragedies keep on happening.

Yet he couldn’t do anything, feeling extremely powerless.

But, he didn’t want to admit that the enemy was too powerful, nor did he want to admit that he was too weak.

He could only believe that fate was a blind arbitrator, and the world was inherently unpredictable and irrational, so no matter what happened, it wouldn’t be too outrageous.

Lin Chen realized that he couldn’t even persuade himself, let alone Shen Lian. He gripped his cell phone but didn’t make a call. Since Xing Conglian didn’t call, it meant that things weren’t going well.

He blinked, and the cool wind brushed his face. His face was facing the sun, and he could feel the red blood vessels beneath his eyelids.

He knew he looked sickly now, but there was a certain comfort in this sickly feeling.

To wallow in a sense of hopeless despair meant he didn’t have to exert any willpower to achieve a satisfactory state or to satisfy others. How nice that would be…

If this was a tragic story, it could very well end with the protagonist committing suicide. Unfortunately, reality was more brutal than fiction because, regardless of how miserable it was, he was the one writing the script of his life. No one would be responsible for his life, so most of the time, he could only keep going.

Tap, tap…

The sound of a door opening echoed across the rooftop, followed by timid footsteps. Lin Chen rubbed his face, wanting to tell the approaching person that he had no intention of suicide and that he just wanted some peace.

But a faint scent of milk drifted in with the wind. He turned his head and saw a round, chubby face.

He was stunned.

“Why are you here?” he managed to ask.

Of course, the visitor wouldn’t answer.

Lin Chen patted the ground next to him, indicating for the person to sit down. To his surprise, the person sat directly on his crossed legs.

A chubby child with a fondness for various chicken burgers naturally carried considerable weight. The child, Zheng Xiaoming, leaned his whole body against Lin Chen for his own comfort, almost squeezing the breath out of Lin Chen.

Lin Chen struggled to withdraw his hand from behind Zheng Xiaoming, cradling the chubby child in his arms. He wanted to ask something but felt too weary to speak. Not everything needed a thorough investigation.

Zheng Xiaoming also remained silent. After all, an autistic prodigy lived in a world completely different from that of a normal person. So, they stayed together for a while, enjoying the breeze. The child’s soft hair brushed against his neck, and his overly plump body filled his arms, giving a satisfying feeling.

After an undetermined amount of time, Zheng Xiaoming finally moved. He squirmed on Lin Chen for a while, and just before Lin Chen’s legs were about to break from the weight, he finally took something out of his pocket.

It was a white food wrapper with some patterns on it.

Lin Chen realized, after the wrapper was unfolded, that it was a wrapper from a KFC chicken burger.

He stared at Zheng Xiaoming in surprise. The boy’s chubby cheeks were overflowing, but he greedily sniffed the aroma of the fried chicken wrapper, swallowed, and showed the pattern to him.

Then Zheng Xiaoming handed him the crumb-filled wrapper and opened his other hand.

His thumb, index finger, and middle finger came together, lightly rubbing.

This gesture was more than familiar.

Lin Chen looked at the chubby boy’s deep, clear eyes, full of expectation, and didn’t know what to say.

“Did he send you?” he finally asked.