Seven Minutes and Thirty Seconds in the Delivery Box

At 3 a.m., I get a milk tea order with a 999-yuan tip. The note says, "Open the box as soon as you deliver it. You have seven minutes and thirty seconds, or someone will die." Inside the box is a cup of blood-red milk tea and a torn police ID. I follow the navigation, only to realize the route passes every dump site from an unsolved serial throat-slashing case five years ago. Even more chilling, the phone number listed for the person who placed the order belongs to my policewoman girlfriend, who died in the line of duty last year.