The moon had risen to the zenith, and the arrangement of the broken moons scattered a faint glow. Looking up at the stars in the sky from the ruins next to the city, you can vaguely feel a stronger light than the streets. The magic of the moonlight permeates the thin moonlight and sprinkles onto the earth that carries the vitality of all things.

Covering a vast area of ruins, the security officers worked silently. Thanks to the relatively early appearance of the corpses, many useful numbers can be obtained. The barrier around the ruins is the best protection, no one enters the place, and no news leaks out.

The investigation on the spot alone is hard enough, and if there are people watching the excitement and journalists who advocate "freedom of the press" making trouble, the security officers may go crazy on the spot. The light and moonlight sprinkled on the faces of the toiling crowd, reflecting the faces with different expressions.

These people are the first line of defense to keep the city safe, and they work hard to keep the city in basic order. But judging from the reality of their exhaustion, this line of defense may not be reliable. New criminal behaviour always passes through the capacity of the garrison.

Even the most seasoned security officers lamented that it seemed that their actions were all in vain.

Every time they put out a crime, ten new evils immediately appeared outside of their perspective. This has been especially true in recent years, and the garrison has not been able to prevent crime very effectively.

Weakness is the biggest dilemma facing the garrison.

The investigation soon yielded phased results. The self-proclaimed murderer who claimed to be an artist only took part of the victim's internal organs while making his works, and as for the items he carried, he could be said to be "Qiu did not commit any crimes". Therefore, the identity of the deceased was soon discovered.

The security officer of the Investigation Section found a black leather purse from the pocket of the deceased's clothes, which contained several notes and change coins. There is also a thin, translucent card. There is no need to distinguish, it is undoubtedly the identity card of the autonomous collar.

Looking closer, the card immediately revealed the identity of the deceased - the man was Guremanger Rakat, Chinese New Year's Eve, a Slote who had settled in the Dominion two years earlier. The home address is the third room on the second floor of the Watta Apartment, 78 Hampt Street, West End.

The basic site survey is almost complete. The darkness of the night made it impossible for the investigation to continue well. Grostide arranged the work of the team and prepared to come to the scene tomorrow to investigate, and the in-depth investigation of the body was entrusted to the medical team on standby at the headquarters.

Grostide gathered the group and asked his men to return the items left behind in the scene to the garrison building. The rest of the guards yawned and planned to go back and get some rest, and they were with Grosted. I haven't had much chance to rest these days, and I have a pair of panda eyes on my head.

Unfortunately, they have no way to rest for the time being.

"Bang-"

The sound of a mechanic piercing the night sky, announcing that the busy night was not over.

"What's going on?"

Grostide was about to roar, and the successive troubles that night made him almost unable to control the anger churning in his chest. Ben thought that he would be able to rest for a while after reporting the information provided by Curt to his superiors, but he had a premonition that he would continue to work again.

He sighed in a low voice for his hard work. Grostide responded immediately, asking several officers to return to the garrison building with the proceeds from the murder scene and report to them, while he beckoned Curt and the rest of the team to rush in the direction from which the mechanic's slap was coming from.

Stepping past the ruins of the murder and into the less lively buildings as the avenue, the surging crowd pointed the way to the security officers who rushed to the scene where the sound of the guns was heard. Most of the buildings in this area are small villas with gardens, which used to be residential areas for the upper class.

When the group reached their destination, Grostide took out his watch and set the hour. It was just past midnight, and the sudden sound of a bang attracted many nearby residents. They surrounded a mansion-like house, peering into the house.

The security officers were instructed by Grostide to drive the onlookers away from the perimeter of the building, and Curt, who followed him, took the opportunity to observe the house in a circle outside the house. There was no light from the windows of his current house. The garden is overgrown with weeds and looks as if it has been abandoned for a long time.

A closer look reveals that all the entrances and exits to this room are firmly locked with dirty but sturdy locks, which would have taken some effort to break through by force. Curt wanted to look through the windows to see the interior of the building, but unfortunately, all the windows were obscured by thick curtains.

After some effort. Unrelated citizens around this building were sent back to their homes by the security officers, according to them. When they heard the bang, the room was silent. Before the arrival of the garrison. No one has ever come out of it, either.

It is unclear whether there was a case of a gun strike in the building or if someone used a mechanic in the house to end his own life. If it had been a murder, if the murderer had not fled before the residents arrived, he would have been hiding somewhere in the two-story house.

And he must still have a mechanic in his hand.

"Richard, Sisaiah, you two are waiting for reinforcements from the headquarters, be careful when you move. Grostide quickly assigned the task, "The rest of the people come with me, there may be enemies in the house, everyone cheer up!

He glanced at Curt, who followed after placing the file in his hand at the feet of the remaining security officer, and silently untied the police short knife from his waist and handed it to Curt. Knowing a little bit of Curt's ability, although he believed in Curt's combat effectiveness, it was impossible for him to let him participate in the action with his bare hands.

Curt casually fiddled with the short knife in his hand, the main light and efficient design concept made the shape of the short knife appear simple and clean, a few simple lines outlined the edge of the cold steel. It may not be as easy as the long knife you are used to, but having a weapon in hand is better than nothing.

At Grostide's command, the officers immediately went into action. Although they are exhausted, the officers are professionals after all. They pushed open the iron gates on the fence, crossed the overgrown courtyard in a few steps, and pasted them to the outer walls of the buildings.

The lock on the door of the house was as strong as it looked, and even though some parts of it had been rusted, it still didn't stop it from continuing to wield itself. After tossing the keyhole with the lockpicking tool for a while in vain, the security officer silently pulled out a small hammerhead.

With a clanging bang, the dutiful lock was forcibly dismantled, becoming a pile of unrecrupulous pieces of metal that crackled and scattered to the ground. The door is locked, but the style of the lock is not quite similar to the door, as if it was a component added by the owner at the back.

The sound of the door locking was enough to be heard around, but there was still no movement in the house. The guards guarding the four corners of the house tensed their nerves, but the prisoner, who did not know whether there was a zài or not, did not react. As the minutes ticked by, the silent air seemed to mock their nervousness.

"Three, two, one!

When the security officer in charge of opening the door slammed open the door of the house, all the security officers rushed in, and the mechanic was all in his hands, maintaining a state of readiness to strike.

No one, not even the breath of living beings.

Behind the door was greeted by a modest reception room, with cleanly cleaned floors and neatly furnished. It is evident that the house has not been abandoned for a long time as it looks from the outside, but that there may still be people living here recently.

Contrary to the clean and tidy appearance, a stale smell fills the space. It smells like rotten wood, mixed with a slight stench that irritates the nasal membranes. It's not a reassuring scent, and there is danger lurking in the murky air.

The dim environment blocks vision, the unpleasant smell interferes with the sense of smell, and the feeling of stepping into a conspiracy arises. Curt couldn't help but raise his alert, there seemed to be something lurking in this room that could only rely on hearing, obscured by the intruder's footsteps and breathing.

Holding his breath and pushing forward cautiously, there was nothing worth investigating in the reception room, only four decorative paintings hanging on the walls that were worth a second glance. These decorative paintings depict scenes of people gathering and playing, which does not seem to match the cold atmosphere of the room.

Opening the door on the other side of the reception room, the officers were greeted by a corridor connecting several rooms, with a staircase leading to the second floor. A slightly humanoid statue occupies the empty space on the left side of the staircase, and the inexplicably unpleasant stone statue with a blurred outline.

"The first group, this is the restaurant, except for the tableware, there is no show!"

"The second group, here is the washroom with shower and toilet, nothing worth noting. ”

The guards searched the rooms on the first floor within their own visual ranges, and they carefully surveyed every corner of the room with fluorite cold lights. The room seems to be owned by someone who likes to collect art, and many old works of art have been found while the security officers are investigating.

The old canvases that lay out in the corridors were painted with different styles of paintings, ordinary figure paintings, landscape paintings, and even religious paintings depicting strange rituals, and bronze or plaster sculptures were more inexplicable than paintings. Curt, who didn't have many artistic cells, couldn't figure out the value of these works, but judging by the look on the faces of the investigating officers around him when they saw them, these things might be worth a lot of money.

Under the carpet search of the security officers, the first floor of the building was not long swept over. But apart from a room full of art, they have nothing worth mentioning.

Only the second floor remains. (To be continued).

Tips: The new domain name "biquge.info" has been launched by Biquge, and the original domain name is about to be discontinued. Please tell each other, thank you!