On Xiya Tu Street, neon and crime shine side by side.
Shen Juefei stood at the mouth of an alley, his phone screen glowing in his hand. A text message in Chinese read: “Pay up, or we’ll come after your whole family.”
A debt of sixty million yuan loomed like an impassable abyss.
That night, Shen Juefei happened to spot a cryptic job ad: “Special logistics firm hiring part-timers. No ID required. High pay, negotiable.”
As if possessed, he called the number.
“We need ‘fresh goods.’ Handle them as instructed, and make sure the ‘goods’ remain intact.” The voice on the other end was as calm as if discussing the weather. “Two thousand Mei dollars per job, paid in cash. No traces left behind.”
That was Shen Juefei’s first encounter with a Kill-a-Mo order.
The research institute needed corpses to advance science, and his assignment was to make a homeless person disappear in a way that looked like a natural death, then deliver the body on time to a designated cold-storage facility.
“This isn’t murder. It’s helping science.”
