Chapter Seventeen: The Seventh Residential District

On the way to the Seventh Residential District, a question lingered persistently in Ye Chen’s mind: That night, I was certain I struck the creature—so why, when it vaulted back over the wall, was there not a trace of blood left behind? Could it be that it possessed some extraordinary regenerative ability? If so, the difficulty of dealing with this creature would rise yet another notch.

Before long, the three of them arrived at the home of the first victims. The main gate was tightly shut, the police line still strung across it. There was no sign of the Team One members, nor any curious neighbors lingering nearby. The house was eerily silent, but outside, the street bustled with life. It seemed that once the initial excitement had faded, no one cared anymore for the people who had perished inside.

Instead of rushing in, the three took the time to question the neighbors, hoping to uncover any details that might have been overlooked. It was Chen Bingfeng who proposed this, saying, “Frankly, I don’t trust Team One’s investigation—it was far too perfunctory.”

Perhaps because of local resentment toward the city patrol, in some homes, no matter how hard they knocked, the residents inside pretended not to hear, though it was clear people were home. The reputation of Team One here must truly be abysmal, Ye Chen thought wryly. Yet judging by Chen Bingfeng and Xu Fan’s reactions, this seemed entirely within their expectations.

Thanks to Ye Chen’s good looks, they did manage to glean a few pieces of gossip from some young women and middle-aged matrons: The deceased man had an explosive temper, and his wife was notorious in the neighborhood for her sharp tongue—both had quarreled with half the street. With a little money in the family, they looked down on their neighbors.

“He thought he was something special just because he had some money—wasn’t it all because he managed to curry favor with some official from the Inner City? All that secondhand machinery business of his…”

“That’s right! I heard, too, that if you didn’t bring your old machines to him for repairs, he’d come knocking to pick a fight.”

“No wonder his wife was so fierce!”

Back and forth the women chattered, eager to share their thoughts. From what Ye Chen gathered, the family’s reputation in the area was less than stellar. There was more schadenfreude than useful information in the neighbors’ words. Still, the mention of “a connection with some Inner City official” caught Ye Chen’s attention.

But in these crowded city streets, there was never any shortage of gossip and slander. While rumors rarely emerged from thin air, exaggeration was always possible. Such talk could not be taken at face value, only as reference.

Chen Bingfeng, upon this first day working with Ye Chen, found his impression of him deepening: cautious, capable, and easy to get along with. Xu Fan, meanwhile, looked at Ye Chen with a newfound admiration—after all, not everyone could charm the ladies into such cheery conversation.

At the same time, Zhou Peng had finished canvassing the familiar shopkeepers near Bar Street. Apart from learning that several patrol officers had spent the night above his own apartment, he gained nothing else. Zhou Peng spat on the ground, cursing under his breath. With this lot, it’ll be a miracle if they ever catch the man-eating mutant.

As Ye Chen arrived at the Seventh Residential District, Zhou Peng appeared at Jin Yinghui’s home. He found Jin Yinghui lounging in the courtyard, idly smoking. Zhou Peng couldn’t help but break into a sweat.

“Do you remember what happened on the way home last night?” he asked.

Behind the haze of smoke, Jin Yinghui’s face was still muddled from a hangover. He mulled it over for some time before grumbling, “You plied me with so much liquor I blacked out…”

Zhou Peng could only shake his head. The old man had wandered the very edge of death and was none the wiser for it. Should he admire his composure, or his luck?

A moment later, Jin Yinghui was left stupefied by Zhou Peng’s account of the night’s events, a chill running down his spine. He didn’t even brush the half-burnt ash from his pant leg.

…He saved me again?

After a pause, Jin Yinghui murmured, “Tell me, if I’d been bitten to death last night, would that count as euthanasia?”

Zhou Peng shot him a dry look and replied, “If you really died from a bite, I’ll pour you a drink at your grave every day.”

Jin Yinghui fell silent.

Soon, the two arrived at the busiest section of the marketplace. Even in winter, the market was a cacophony of voices; stalls selling all kinds of dishes sent clouds of steam rising into the air, aromas mingling to tease the appetites of countless passersby, who stopped before each stall, unable to resist.

Ye Shanshan was bustling at her stand, her cheeks flushed from the steam rising from her pot, locks of hair pasted to her forehead. She greeted customers warmly, collecting money and tucking it carefully into the pocket of her bunny apron, her face radiant with happiness.

“What a good girl,” Jin Yinghui couldn’t help but sigh.

Spotting them through the swirling steam, Ye Shanshan waved enthusiastically, her voice ringing out, “Ye Chen stayed at your place last night, didn’t he?”

At that, Jin Yinghui suddenly realized something and blurted, “That little rascal made off with my sofa!”

Ye Shanshan only smiled, lips pursed.

“Achoo!” Ye Chen sneezed for no apparent reason.

By now, the three had entered the small courtyard. Ye Chen surveyed the surroundings with a careful eye. A house with a courtyard like this was considered a luxury in the Outer City. Ye Chen knew full well that anyone able to rent or purchase such a place must be a person of means or status.

The Outer City circled the Inner City, already narrow and densely populated. Most people, like Ye Chen himself, lived in corrugated iron shacks. Some had it worse, sleeping in makeshift shelters on street corners. In the bitter winter months, it was nothing unusual to stumble upon frozen corpses in the morning.

Even so, these houses were still a world apart from those in the Inner City. For most, they were little more than an unattainable dream.

Against the walls and in the corners of the courtyard, heaps of rusted, secondhand machinery were piled—a makeshift warehouse, perfectly matching the owner’s line of work. Chen Bingfeng and Xu Fan were about to head straight inside, but noticed Ye Chen already searching the courtyard thoroughly.

The two exchanged a puzzled glance.

Ye Chen called out, “There was nothing in the briefing about the courtyard, was there? Since we’re here, let’s not waste this opportunity—let’s fill in the gaps ourselves.”

They nodded silently.

No one could tell what purpose the old machines stacked by the wall served. The yellow-brown stains on the ground were likely left by rust and rainwater over the years. Ye Chen circled behind the machines, checking each corner. He swiped a hand over one, instantly scraping off a thick crust of rust.

“These machines by the wall are nearly as tall as the wall itself—perfect for climbing in or out. But there’s no sign of rust being scraped off,” he mused aloud, rubbing the rust powder between his fingers.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to the door leading into the house, and a more definite hypothesis took shape in his mind: The creature didn’t use the front door, nor did it enter through the side courtyard. It must have come in through the back!