Los ojos de Asura

Capítulo 47

The girl nodded understandingly, and groped her way back to sit in the chair: "You said you'd be very busy lately, I thought I wouldn't see you for a long time."

"Today is a bit special, so I managed to find a way to get away."

The girl's eyes crinkled slightly: "Just to bring me a cake?"

"Everyone hopes someone will bring them a birthday cake on their birthday, right?" the young man replied earnestly.

The girl whispered, "Thank you." Her words were simple, but very sincere.

The young man smiled silently, a look of satisfaction on his face. Unfortunately, the girl couldn't see it. Seeing his silence, she spoke up again, "Could you cut me a piece of cake? I haven't had breakfast today."

The young man, of course, wouldn't refuse her request. In his heart, taking care of this girl had become an inescapable responsibility. He got up, unwrapped the cake, cut off a small pointed piece, placed it in a paper cup, and then presented it to the girl.

The girl smelled the sweet aroma of the cake. She took a deep sniff and reached out to locate it. However, after several attempts, she couldn't find the paper cup accurately. She smiled apologetically, but also felt a little frustrated.

The young man hesitated for a moment, seemingly wanting to do something but lacking enough courage. However, he eventually reached out his right hand and gently grasped the girl's left wrist.

"Here." He guided the girl's slender white hand to grasp the paper holder.

"Am I a nuisance?" the girl asked, pouting, but her expression was cheerful.

"How could that be? I wouldn't find it troublesome to spend every day with you like this." The young man said as he withdrew his hand, his fingertips still retaining the girl's warmth and fragrance. His heart was slightly stirred; it was a wonderful feeling he had never experienced before.

The girl was also feeling unsettled; the sincere concern in the other person's words made her cheeks involuntarily flush. She lowered her head, using the act of eating cake to conceal her changing expression.

"Is it tasty?"

"tasty."

The dialogue seemed so simple it was almost childish, yet every word resonated deeply with both of them. They fell silent afterward; the girl ate her cake, bite by bite, while the young man stared at her blankly.

After a long silence, the girl seemed to sense the awkward tension and looked up to ask, "What are you thinking about?"

The young man snapped out of his reverie. "I remembered... I remembered the first time I ate cake," he said softly.

"Hehe." The girl chuckled crisply, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "You actually spaced out thinking about that? I bet you were drooling with envy back then, weren't you?"

The young people, however, couldn't laugh.

"That was my sixth birthday—" he recounted the memory to someone for the first time, "My biggest wish was to eat a piece of birthday cake, and my father had promised me long ago that he would fulfill this wish on my birthday."

The young man's low voice made the girl sense an unusual atmosphere. At the same time, the word "father" made her feel inexplicably sad. After a moment of melancholy, she said softly, "Your father must love you very much, right? He must be a good father; he wouldn't let your wishes go unfulfilled."

The young man shook his head: "No, the person who ultimately let me eat the cake wasn't my father..."

"Oh?" The girl was a little confused, so she wisely chose to remain silent. She sensed that it was some tender memory deep in his heart, and if he was willing to talk about it, he would; if he wasn't willing, it was better not to ask.

The young man's eyes were veiled in a mist; he seemed to see something through time and space, yet everything was so blurry and indistinct. Eighteen years had passed, but the taste of that cake still lingered on his lips: sweet with an indescribable bitterness.

He couldn't tell the other person much, and finally he simply said slowly, "My father died on that day."

The girl was stunned. "I'm sorry... I didn't know..." she murmured, "So you lost your father when you were so young..."

The young man covered his head with his hands, his mind churning with a jumble of complex thoughts that made him tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, his hands were grasped by another pair of soft hands, and a warm current flowed through his body. He looked up and saw that the girl had somehow appeared before him, gently stroking him with her hands.

The young man slowly regained his composure. Then he grasped the girl's small hand in return: "No one understands the feeling of losing a father better than me... so the first time I saw you, I couldn't help but want to protect you and take care of you..."

The girl didn't speak, but a sweet feeling slowly seeped out from the bitterness in her heart. Before, she only regarded the other person as a friend worth getting to know, but from this moment on, she began to feel a kind of closeness with each other, as if they were sharing the same sorrow.

"I should go." The young man suddenly stood up. "I've lingered too long..."

The girl nodded and withdrew her hand from the other person's palm. Although she was a little reluctant, she did need time to calm down.

"Can you promise me something?" The young man had something to say before leaving.

"What?"

"Someone might come to you asking about me—don't tell them we've met before."

The girl readily agreed: "Okay."

The young man seemed a bit puzzled: "Aren't you going to ask why?"

"Why should I ask if you don't want to talk about it?" The girl smiled faintly. "Anyway, I believe you're not a bad person; you wouldn't possibly harm me."

The young man looked at the girl, but her trusting smile felt like a knife cutting into his heart. He suddenly felt suffocated.

"I'm leaving." He said goodbye in a hasty manner, and then rushed out of the music room in a disheveled manner, like a deserter.

At 10:25 a.m., at Du Mingqiang's residence.

Liu Song was sleeping alone on the sofa in the living room. Suddenly, he heard some slight noises in the room, and he immediately sat up alertly, his sleepiness vanishing in an instant.

"Officer Liu, you're being a bit too tense," Du Mingqiang said sarcastically as he came into the living room from the bedroom, seeing the other man's expression. The noise he'd just heard was from when he left the bedroom.

Liu Song glanced coldly at Du Mingqiang, too lazy to say anything more. This guy was reckless and didn't need to lower himself to his level. Even with security measures as tight as the Longyu Building, Eumenides could still come and go freely to carry out his killings. And Liu Song, performing a protection mission in this ordinary residential building, couldn't be too careful.

Du Mingqiang didn't care about the other party's cold attitude. He walked over enthusiastically and sat down next to Liu Song, as if the two were very close brothers.

"Come on, take a look at my manuscript!" He patted Liu Song on the shoulder and stuffed several pages of printed manuscript paper into the other's hand.

Liu Song recalled that Luo Fei, Ahua, and others had discussed publishing articles online in the lobby of the Longyu Building in the early hours of the morning. He hadn't expected Du Mingqiang to have written them so quickly. He couldn't help but glance at him in surprise.

Du Mingqiang understood what Liu Song was thinking, and he chuckled smugly: "What's most important in news reporting? First, speed; second, speed; third, speed! I was working on this article while you were sleeping. Now that it's out, it not only has the effect of an exclusive report, but it also happens to coincide with the peak of online browsing. Tell me, how could this article not go viral?"

Liu Song brushed Du Mingqiang's hand off his shoulder, gave a light snort, and said, "Don't get too excited yet. It's not even certain whether your article will be published!"

"Hey!" Du Mingqiang suddenly became agitated. "Captain Luo approved the entire structure of my draft. Why won't you let me publish it?"

"Whether we issue it or not is irrelevant to us," Liu Song said calmly. "It needs to be reviewed by Captain Luo; it can only be issued if he approves it."

"Bureaucrats, utterly bureaucratic!" Du Mingqiang complained angrily. "What kind of efficiency can such a system have? Without efficiency, there's no fighting power. No wonder you've been unable to defeat that assassin!"

Liu Song really didn't like hearing that last sentence. He suddenly widened his eyes and stared intently at Du Mingqiang. The latter was startled by the gaze and, remembering the suffering he had endured, quickly and wisely stopped talking.

"Alright, alright..." After an awkward silence, he seemed to concede, muttering, "Then hurry up and send the manuscript to Captain Luo for a look, don't delay my publication deadline..."

Liu Song was also thinking of going back to the team to check on the progress of the case. So, while checking the time, he said, "Come with me to the criminal investigation team."

Du Mingqiang rolled his eyes: "What am I supposed to do? Captain Luo said it's okay, couldn't you have just called and told me?"

"My mission is to protect your safety, so we definitely can't be separated."

"Oh dear, aren't you being too dogmatic? Aren't there several plainclothes officers guarding outside? I'm not going anywhere today, I'm just sleeping in my bedroom—I'm so sleepy!" Du Mingqiang said, yawning widely. Because he hadn't slept all night, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked extremely tired.

"Alright then, I'll take another nap too," Liu Song said calmly. "We'll go find Captain Luo after we've all woken up. I'm not in a hurry."

Du Mingqiang glared at Liu Song, then sighed helplessly, "Fine, fine, I can't outsmart you—you call the shots. Let's go to the criminal investigation team."

Liu Song smiled faintly and stood up.

Du Mingqiang also stood up, seemingly reluctant to give up, and muttered, "Aren't you in a hurry? When we get to the criminal investigation team, you'll definitely rush into the meeting room again!"

Having achieved his goal, Liu Song ignored his complaints and urged, "Let's go. I promise to deliver the manuscript to Captain Luo, right? What do you care if I have a meeting or not?"

Du Mingqiang was still bargaining: "While you're in the meeting, find me a place to sleep!"

"In that same lounge as last time."

Du Mingqiang grinned: "There's no bed there, how are we supposed to sleep?"

"The desk is big enough, I'll get you a pillow too." Seeing that Du Mingqiang was about to say something more, Liu Song glared at him again, "I sleep on the sofa here too, don't I?"

Du Mingqiang swallowed hard, feeling resentful but helpless. Eager to publish his "exclusive article," he had no choice but to obediently follow Liu Song, leaving his residence and heading towards the criminal investigation team.

Upon arriving at the criminal investigation team, Liu Song first settled Du Mingqiang in the lounge, where his plainclothes special police officers were assigned to guard him. Then, he took Du Mingqiang's manuscript to find Luo Fei. When everyone dispersed from the Longyu Building in the early morning, Luo Fei told them to go back and rest for a while, and then that there would be a meeting in the conference room at 9:30 AM. Liu Song guessed that the meeting might not be over yet, so he went directly to the conference room.

Upon entering the room, they found Luo Fei, Yin Jian, Mu Jianyun, Zeng Rihua, and their group. Each of them had a furrowed brow, staring intently at some items piled in the center of the conference table, seemingly deep in thought and puzzlement.

Not daring to interrupt their train of thought, Liu Song quietly sat down in the empty seat next to Yin Jian. Luo Fei noticed him at that moment and greeted him, "You're here too?"

Liu Song nodded and explained, "Du Mingqiang wrote a report, I brought it for you to see if it can be published—and also to check on the progress of the case."

"Hmm, you've come at the right time." Luo Fei pointed to the conference table. "Take a look at these things. Can you find any clues?"

Liu Song looked closely and saw a large pile of white styrofoam in the center of the conference table, about a dozen pieces. These styrofoams varied in size, but were all thin and had some degree of curvature.

Yin Jian leaned closer to Liu Song and explained, "These were all found in the area surrounding the Longyu Building. Compared to the blood-stained foam we found on the terrace in the early morning, they are very similar in both material and shape, so they must have come from the same source."

"Oh? Could this thing be related to the case?" Liu Song squinted, pondering, but couldn't see any clues for the moment.

Yin Jian added, "The foam on the terrace has been analyzed, and the bloodstains on it belonged to the deceased, Lin Henggan. So now we can at least confirm that the murderer touched that foam after committing the crime."

"Hmm... given that guy's abilities, this contact shouldn't be an accident," Liu Song analyzed, following this line of thought. "What did he do with that piece of foam?"

"It's not just that one bubble; all of these bubbles may have some problems."

Liu Song didn't blindly agree. He shook his head and said, "That's not necessarily true. Although they look similar, they might just be packaging for the same product, carelessly discarded, and the murderer just happened to pick up the piece on the terrace."

"If they are packaging materials for the same item, why are they scattered so widely? Although these bubbles were all found on the south side of the building, the furthest distance between any two is more than sixty meters. What do you think is going on?" Luo Fei asked Liu Song, his tone and gaze seemingly deliberately guiding the other's thinking.

"Well..." Liu Song paused for a moment, then quickly came up with an idea, "Perhaps these bubbles were thrown from a height, which is why they're so scattered."

Luo Fei nodded, and everyone else present looked at Liu Song with approval, as if he had just raised a crucial point. In this atmosphere, Liu Song naturally thought more deeply, and suddenly he realized something, blurting out excitedly, "Could it have been thrown from the crime scene?!"

"Very likely—" Luo Fei tapped the table lightly with his fingers, "because the pattern of the foam dispersion matches the height of the crime scene and the wind conditions last night very well."

Liu Song's mind became increasingly active: "So these bubbles were tools used at the crime scene? But what purpose could these things serve?"

Luo Fei glanced at his colleagues beside him, then shrugged slightly and said, "We're also considering this issue—but so far there's no answer."

"I was just wondering if these things might be some kind of equipment for high-altitude climbing?" Zeng Rihua began to offer his opinion. "For example, foam is very light and can generate buoyancy, etc. However, we are all laymen in this area, and we were just about to hear your opinion as a special police expert."

"This line of thinking... isn't it a bit too science fiction-like?" Liu Song used such an exaggerated adjective to express his opinion. "It's just a bunch of bubbles. It might be able to lift a person's body in water, but what use would it have in air?"

Zeng Rihua scratched his head and remained silent, feeling that his explanation was difficult to justify.

At this moment, Liu Song pointed to the pile of foam and said, "May I take a piece to look at?"

"You can take it." Luo Fei didn't stop him. "These foam technicians have all checked it; they didn't leave any valuable traces."

So Liu Song picked up the smallest piece of foam and held it in his hand. In terms of size and shape, this piece of foam was almost identical to the one with bloodstains on the terrace.

Just as Liu Song was studying the foam, Mu Jianyun spoke up again, saying, "Actually, there's another strange thing."

"What?" Luo Fei immediately asked with great interest. Mu Jianyun had been silent in the meeting room for a long time, and Luo Fei had long wanted to hear her opinion.

"If these bubbles were indeed tools used at the crime scene, why would the killer discard them so carelessly? After being thrown from the 18th floor, the bubbles would have scattered over a large area, becoming inconspicuous. But given Eumenides' modus operandi, shouldn't he at least have taken the blood-stained bubble with him? We found this bubble on the terrace and seized this clue. While there was an element of luck involved, it was ultimately the killer's actions that first left a flaw, a flaw he could easily have easily covered up."

"That is indeed a question," Luo Fei nodded in agreement. "The package containing the blood-stained clothes on the terrace is also highly suspicious—leaving such important evidence at the scene is really inconsistent with Eumenides' usual style and standards."

"Then why would he do that?" Zeng Rihua pushed up his thick glasses, speculating, "Was he trying to deliberately mislead us?"

Zeng Rihua's words dampened Liu Song's spirits as he diligently studied the mysteries of foam, and the latter seemed to give up. He propped his head up with his left hand, grabbed one end of a foam sheet with his right hand, and then idly tapped his forearm with the foam sheet as if playing a clapper.

Liu Song's action quickly caught Luo Fei's attention, and the criminal police captain couldn't help but frown deeply.

Yin Jian nudged Liu Song discreetly, alerting him. Liu Song then snapped out of his daze and quickly put away the foam in his hand—he had almost forgotten that it was evidence collected from the scene.