Su Jianwei is the records administrator in the forensic department. She’s socially anxious. She chose this job for one reason: the dead don’t talk to her.
Until she touched an evidence phone.
The dead person’s final thirty seconds exploded before her eyes. As the flashback ended, a line of text appeared in her vision:
[Connoisseur]: First time? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it after a few more.
Sender ID: The killer in this case.
He sent another message: I turned off the cameras for you. I’ll give you the second piece of evidence in 72 hours. If you can’t find me, you’ll become the next piece of evidence.
She turned around. The red light on the hallway camera had gone out.
The killer wasn’t trying to kill her. He was testing her. Every piece of evidence was a question; every haunted house, an exam room. He sent comments to score her: “Pass,” “Minus ten points,” “Excellent.” It wasn’t out of kindness. He was looking for an opponent who could understand why he didn’t kill people.
She didn’t want to solve cases. But every night, the dead person’s final hour played out again in her dreams. When she woke, her body briefly inherited the pain of their fatal injuries.
She didn’t want to socialize. But she had to pass on the clues, using anonymous notes, pencil-written filing labels, and unsigned memos.
More than anything, she didn’t want to become anyone’s opponent. But the channel had more than just the Connoisseur. The Skinner, the Collector, the Doctor: they were lining up to “interview” her.
And he hadn’t picked her at random. Her mother’s name was on his “price” list from thirteen years ago.
