A Capital Crime

"I need to find a way to buy a book." Jiang Xueming opened his phone and started an online shopping spree.

Oscar hadn't even realized what was happening yet. He had just finished setting up the barbecue grill and lit the fire when he saw Dr. Zhang Congfeng sitting on a small stool, head down, scrolling through Amazon.

"What's going on?" Oscar asked Maquire, turning around.

Maquire casually replied, "I don't know."

Wash and cut the mutton into pieces, skewering the larger pieces into strips and smaller pieces into skewers, and put them all on the grill. Sprinkle them with spices, and Oscar comes to Dr. Zhang Congfeng's side, staring at him like a curious child.

"Brain Injury —oh wait, no," the big wolf didn't understand Dr. Feng's intention. "Why are you buying this stuff? Are you thinking of expanding your business? Switching to neurosurgery?"

Jiang Xueming: "Someone's brain-dead, I'm going to give him this."

Maquire: "Who are you insulting?"

"I'll curse whoever gets angry." Jiang Xueming went even further, her words becoming vicious. "You look so refined, how come you have the mouth of a beast?"

"The neighbors all speak highly of you, Maquire, saying you heal and save lives. Why didn't Alfons sit up on the operating table and give this cannibal a good spanking?"

"I saved the old Chinese medicine doctor's life at the clinic, and traded my own life for the old lady's. But you've turned me into an accomplice of an evil kidnapper. After listening to a few of Saint Josh Joris's bullshit words, you came up and tried to shoot me in the head. Why don't you just put your diode in your bathroom's main control panel and use it as a bathroom heater switch? It could even warm your non-existent family."

"Your tanks are just 300-yuan junk, what's so special about them? Believe me or not, tomorrow I'll buy ten or eight of them and drive them to your doorstep for bumper cars. I'll crush them one by one with a road roller and I won't even pay you a penny."

"You think you can compete with me after learning a few knightly combat techniques? You're so blind, you should be taken to the middle of an eight-lane intercity highway and walk on the tactile paving so that dump trucks can give you an adult education."

"You don't even feel sorry for Dannie, the little nurse in the operating room, who's worked there for over four years? You're such a complete idiot, you don't even consider the junior nurses at the nurses' station human, do you? If Alfons died at her hands, would you feel relieved? Would you have no qualms about it? Fuck you."

"You had a good time receiving therapy at Saint Josh's place, but how did Alfons get that leaf-shaped scar on his chest? You think I don't know? Take a piss and look at yourself in the mirror. See what kind of face lies beneath that handsome exterior? You've become a cannibal!"

"You don't even recite a few sutras to pray for the victims of medical malpractice, what kind of saint are you pretending to be in front of me? Do you think I got my psychiatric license for nothing? Do you think I don't know what you're thinking, you son of a bitch?"

"With your delicate, effeminate fingers, you wield a scalpel, saving lives with one hand and devouring others with the other, speaking to me in a high-pitched, affected Chinese voice, and even using knightly combat techniques against me. Where were you when we were killing the Madness Butterfly Sect?"

"And now you're saying you're a surgeon? Or just an ordinary person without Inspiration?"

"Regardless of your relationship with Saint Josh, you've fallen into a cesspool yourself and still dare to call me stinky. If you're so capable, why don't you become the Lord of Cinder?"

Why don't you go and pass on the fire?

This barrage of explosive attacks left Maquire blushing furiously. Oscar burst into laughter, then fell silent upon hearing the name of the Madness Butterfly Sect, before finally managing to force a laugh throughout.

Maquire's self-esteem was severely damaged. Faced with repeated insults, he had no skill in retaliating. If he had read the Six Arts Heart Sutra, he should have been able to find corresponding techniques from the sutra to resist this mental attack.

He had never been insulted like this before, and his defenses crumbled on the spot. His native language was too clumsy, and he could only repeat a few simple swear words over and over, which did little to cause any real damage.

His blood pressure spiked, causing his fists to turn red. He clenched and unclenched his fists several times, nearly causing internal injuries, and finally had to give up in frustration.

In this round, he tasted the bitterness of defeat, a sense of frustration that made him begin to doubt himself and slowly break free from Saint Josh's mental control.

Jiang Xueming is still outputting--

"--Okay, I'll get you some multivitamins, or some food supplement diluted with water. Beasts are easily frightened during long-distance transport. I've seen this happen to you a lot. A little veterinary medicine will do the trick."

"It's a good thing you can't utter many words, so that your mouth-and-nose organs don't keep spewing out excrement. You've eaten people, and the stench from your Barry is making it hard for me to open my eyes."

"Based on your symptoms, I've summarized a treatment method. Your condition is due to incomplete brain development and incomplete cerebellum development. I'll give you this stool, and when the lamb is ready, Oscar will cut you a children's meal. You can squat on this little stool to eat, experience what it's like for a child with intellectual disabilities, and let your soul return to the original structure of your brain. You'll adapt after a while."

"You can still eat mutton? No way? You can't even eat mutton anymore? You can only eat human flesh now?"

After asking that last question, Maquire grabbed a handful of iron skewers, ready to attack; he couldn't take it anymore.

I'll kill your whole family!

Jiang Xueming kicked away the surgeon's weapon, startling Oscar so much that he bristled.

The wolf quickly moved the barbecue grill back into the yard, fearing that the delicious food on the table would be ruined.

After only two rounds, the irrational Maquire was pinned down in the mud by Jiang Xueming.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill your whole family!"

Maquire's true colors have been revealed; he has no way out. After being brainwashed by Saint Josh, he can no longer distinguish between right and wrong.

"Kill! Kill you! Eat you! Eat you!"

Killing Alfons and taking the injured man's heart valve on the operating table and swallowing it was "justice" for Maquire, but his job was just to be a surgeon; he was not a gunsmith, a policeman, or an anonymous person.

Saint Josh exploited this psychological weakness, gradually hypnotizing Maquire into believing that killing for flesh was a justifiable act.

Now, Maquire's mental world has collapsed; he cannot accept the fact that he is a cannibal. Anger and fear have completely taken over him.

Jiang Xueming pinned Maquire down, and Oscar didn't dare to help. After listening to the whole thing, Wolf finally understood what had happened. With little fighting power left, Wolf could only continue grilling meat.

After a few minutes, Maquire gradually calmed down, his out-of-control emotions subsided, he regained some rationality, and stopped struggling.

Jiang Xueming released Maquire, but did not completely release him. He held Maquire's elbow joints, and his knees were still pressing firmly against Maquire's waist, allowing the surgeon to breathe smoothly.

"Have you calmed down?"

Maquire: "Oh, I... I think I got stuck in a dead end and almost couldn't get out."

Jiang Xueming knelt down, released Maquire's left arm, and, maintaining a low, half-squatting posture, gradually released all control.

"Are you interested in psychological counseling now? Maquire Copenhagen—I want you to tell me everything you know."

His pajamas were stained with yellow mud, but Maquire didn't mind the dirt. He slowly got up, stared into Zhang Congfeng's eyes, and gradually retreated onto the bench.

"Everything?"

He was still somewhat terrified when he said this, not wanting to go to prison. If the charge of intentionally killing Alfons were upheld, his life would be ruined.

Jiang Xueming took out his phone, turned on the recording device, and recorded all the conversations along the way—including every word Maquire said, and naturally, the murderous fact that he said, "On the operating table, they are not human, but devils."

This recording broke through Maquire Copenhagen's last psychological defenses; he no longer had the willpower to be angry and confessed to the crime.

"About four or five months ago, the rescue team needed medical personnel to accompany them."

"I went with the brothers from the outpost to the Elf Holy Land to organize a rescue, along with Doctor Jioris. Saint Josh Joris. Together, we found a place called [Three Myriad Miles Forward Outpost]."

"There are two injured people who need emergency treatment. They fell down an L-shaped karst cave in Cave No. 2. It's a small vertical shaft, more than 40 meters high, almost like falling from the height of a ten-story building, all the way down into the limestone cave. They are both in critical condition."

"I had to perform surgery to save a life, and I left in a hurry without an assistant. Mr. Joris helped me complete the surgery, and I am very grateful to him."

"Later, those two lucky ones gave me something: a runestone imbued with elven power, a small stone tablet—and from then on, I possessed the spirits of Berloberg."

"I started learning knightly combat skills, and the training speed of this skill was advancing by leaps and bounds. This elf kept saying strange things in my head. Some of them I could understand, and some I couldn't. It was like a madman, only able to spout out a few words."

"For example, if I want to go out for breakfast and choose Western food, it will say 'I don't want that,' and if I choose Chinese food, it will say 'I want something else,' until I choose a dish that it likes, then it will keep praising it."

"Later, even in the operating room, I continued to see patients and work normally. Occasionally, when I came into contact with the flesh and scars on the wounded, I would hear even more strange noises."

"These sounds seem to be the memories of the wounded, how they were injured, how they died. Just get close and smell them, lick the blood with your tongue, and you'll immediately understand."

"I could hardly resist the temptation—as a surgeon, I need to know the specific circumstances of the patient when they suffered the trauma, which makes my surgical procedure much easier."

"These experiences made my mental state worse and worse. I couldn't sleep and always felt energetic, but in order to cope with work, I had to force myself to go to bed and pretend to sleep."

"I usually need to be awake for 36 hours before I'm tired enough to fall asleep, and I need a full 16 hours of sleep to feel fully awake. This kind of schedule is simply not enough to cope with the work at the clinic—this wretched spirit is slowly ruining my life."

"I went to see Doctor Jioris. Saint Josh Joris for psychological counseling. He prescribed some medications for me, which I recognized, and they worked well—but it wasn't enough."

"Two weeks later, my strange routine didn't improve, and my neurasthenia symptoms became more and more obvious. I became irritable and easily angered, and I couldn't stand anyone. So Dr. Saint Josh Doctor Jioris prescribed me an old Chinese medicine prescription. This time, I couldn't recognize the ingredients on the prescription."

"After completing three courses of treatment, which took about eighteen days, my insomnia suddenly disappeared."

"I went to Mr. Joris's house to thank him, but at that moment, he said that the main ingredient in this old prescription was human flesh."

"I don't understand psionics, nor have I read any introductions to psionics, but Mr. Joris's theoretical knowledge convinces me—around the Elf Holy Land, we must maintain the habit of cannibalism to strengthen our spiritual essence in order to resist the elves within our bodies."

"So I paid him [the consultation fee], and later I gradually felt it wasn't a big deal, because many people, many people have had this psychological consultation with Mr. Joris."

"Among them were the mayor's wife and Officer Havana from the military post; there were more women than men, and they had all eaten human flesh."

"I finally dispelled my doubts, because this prescription truly brought my life back to normal."

"Later, Alfons fell into my hands. This demon killed two of his fellow hunters in order to survive. As I savored the scars on his body, the spirit in my mind showed me all of this."

"So I killed him without hesitation and asked Mr. Joris for help—I don't know if it was the right thing to do, but if this demon were to live, he would become a great hero in the hunting party, and the Golden Eagle Gryphon that fell to its death with him would become his trophy. I couldn't accept that!"

"Berloberg wants me to kill him too! Berloberg is determined to make me kill him!"

Maquire became agitated, his eyes becoming bloodshot, but he didn't completely lose control.

"Mr. Joris comforted me, saying I did the right thing, that the one who died on the operating table was nothing more than a selfish criminal who betrayed his friends for personal gain. It was Berloberg who guided me to make the right choice—and you..."

"Dr. Zhang Congfeng, you must also be an accomplice of the hospital robbers; you're helping them."

"I don't know what you're trying to do, but I'll do whatever Mr. Joris tells me to do. I feel like I can't control myself."

Maquire nervously licked his lips. He could feel a strong hunger. Berloberg seemed eager to merge with Zhang Congfeng and achieve oneness, a sign that the sword spirit had recognized its master. But in Maquire's eyes, it was like a scalpel recognizing its delicious prey and wanting to embed the knife into its body.

"I did kill Alfons, and I was planning to pin the crime on Dannie. Dr. Zhang Congfeng, what will the people at the outpost do to me? Will I go to jail?"

Jiang Xueming hadn't expected this turn of events, and immediately stretched out his hand. "Give me the spirit of Berloberg."

"No! No, no, no!" Maquire immediately clutched the scalpel, panicking like a child hiding a toy. "No! It resists you! It doesn't want to! No! Are you going to take my precious thing away?"

Knightly combat skills granted this ordinary man the power to slay demons, and a sliver of Inspiration from the spirit of Berloberg allowed Maquire to taste the source of the wounded's pain. This spirit held immense significance for Maquire.

And he wasn't lying; Berloberg's elf suddenly changed its mind, like a fickle girlfriend, seemingly unwilling to return to Jiang Xueming's side.

"Give it to me!" Jiang Xueming stepped forward and used his superior position to pin down half of Maquire's body, taking the scalpel away effortlessly from his standing position.

He stroked the hilt of the knife, gently caressing the blade, but felt no warmth whatsoever.

"--You mean there's a Berloberg spirit inside this knife?"

Maquire: "Yes."

Jiang Xueming: "Why can't I feel it?"

Maquire had no idea of Jiang Xueming's true identity; he could only deduce and guess.

"You are not a gunsmith; perhaps only I can awaken it—I am its master."

Jiang Xueming's eyes widened, and she began to mutter a strange incantation in a low voice.

"You don't want to become a toilet plunger, do you? Am I too gentle, or are you just going through a rebellious phase? I'm your father, wake up!"

Nevertheless, the scalpel only became slightly warmer, returning to forty-one degrees Celsius in the freezing cold, and it couldn't emit any light at all.

Maquire reached out, demanding the scalpel back. "Dr. Zhang Congfeng, please give it back to me. I'm about to lose everything, I don't want to lose it too."

"How strange!" Jiang Xueming returned the knife. The willow-leaf-shaped knife fell back into Maquire's hand and immediately burst out with brilliant light. The characteristics of the psionic tide were exactly the same as the Magic Wand given by the BOSS.

My sword no longer recognizes me? It's become someone else's weapon?

Jiang Xueming was so shocked that his jaw dropped. He had excellent observation skills and could even see a metallic pattern remaining in the white light. The pattern was clearly an international friendly gesture, and it seemed that the spirit of Berloberg was giving him the middle finger.

Oscar: "The meat's ready! The meat's ready! Hey, you two doctors! Don't start fighting yet!"

Wolf Brother was a rather oblivious person. After hearing Maquire's confession, he didn't think the surgeon had committed any major crime. If everything was true, the two hunting party members killed by Alfons would naturally be found by the search and rescue team, and the truth would eventually come to light, whether they were alive or dead.

"Hey! If you ask me, how can Alfons, that beast, be compared to Doctor Maguire, who heals and saves lives?" Oscar's words were quite skillful, focusing solely on "healing and saving lives" and omitting the "murder and flesh" aspect—he didn't want to further aggravate Maquire's fragile heart. "Once the rescue team retrieves the victim's body, Doctor Maguire, you should go to the military post and write a detailed account of the case. I believe the Prosecutor's Office in Mimir Hot Spring Market won't give you any trouble. The culprit is Saint Josh Joris."

Maquire ignored these nice words and, after killing someone with his own hands, realized he was not capable and utterly unworthy to be Berloberg's master.

Gunsmiths are professional violent institutions, while Maquire is just a surgeon. No matter what, he cannot bear the psychological damage caused by taking a life. If he really believes Joris's lies, he will slowly slide into the abyss and never be able to become human again.

Zhang Congfeng's scathing rebuke, coupled with his crushing defeat in the knightly combat duel, made Maquire see reality clearly.

He took the mutton that Wolf Brother offered, but felt nauseous, as if his stomach was no longer suited to the food of ordinary Homo sapiens.

How much human flesh have I eaten? I can't seem to remember.

For the past few months, I've been going to Joris's place constantly, paying his consultation fees twelve times. That doesn't even include the times I didn't pay for consultations, which were when Joris would retrieve food from the fridge and we'd cook and enjoy the dishes together.

I've eaten human flesh at least thirty times; all of this was scraped from other people.

He slightly raised his head and looked towards the shop window, where Maquire's face was reflected in the mirror of the dressing room.

His face was covered in mud, and the grass and twigs on his head looked like deer antlers. He felt like he had become Wendigo from mythology, a cannibal.

In the first trial of the Hercules, there were countless victims who stepped onto the path of no return step by step.

A strong sense of hatred disappeared, and the anger towards Dr. Zhang Congfeng gradually subsided, but the antlers would not disappear; they transformed into another kind of hatred.

"I want to do something."

Berloberg's reluctance to leave Maquire Copenhagen suggests that the surgeon still has a mission to complete.

"I want to do something, I want to do something."

He kept muttering to himself, unable to understand why the gunsmith's sword spirit was haunting him, even though he had become a carnivore.

"I have to do something, I have to do something, the people I should kill—"

"--It's Saint Josh Joris, isn't it?"

Jiang Xueming was stumped by the question; he had no intention of involving this ordinary person in the struggle against the Blood-giving Monster.

Putting aside whether Maquire was qualified in combat, the resistance to arresting Saint Josh was enormous. Judging from the list of this psychiatrist's guests, almost the entire town of Saladin loved and respected him, regarding this Hercules official as a spiritual guide.

To capture this ogre, the first step is to smash the idol, tear off Saint Josh's human skin mask to reveal his bloody and hideous nature, and make every Saladin resident understand that this is not a benefactor who crushes inner demons, but a natural enemy that harms Homo sapiens.

Right now, at this very moment.

The town's fire station sirens blared, and the outpost sounded alarms.

Warnings of Spirit Calamity rang out from the streets and alleys, accompanied by the sounds of gongs and drums. Suddenly, the place was bustling with activity, and neighbors rushed out onto the main street, wondering what had happened.

Oscar stopped grilling the meat, crossed the garden to the street, and randomly grabbed a nervous-looking militiaman for questioning.

"What's going on?"

The militiaman was heading out of town to support the hunting party.

"The head of the supply depot is dead! The rescue team just left! The quartermaster was stabbed to death at home! His entire family of three is dead!"

Oscar then realized that something was seriously wrong. Saladin's winters were very difficult, and the town often faced shortages of supplies. The mayor and the quartermaster were the local officials, one responsible for people's livelihood and the other for security.

The assassination of the quartermaster of the supply depot was devastating news for the many hunting groups in the deep valley. How to mobilize the militia for search and rescue, and how to support the hunting groups with logistical work, all of these decisions rested with the quartermaster. Now the supply depot was essentially dead, and the rescue team needed to invest more manpower and resources to ensure the normal operation of the hunting groups.

Meanwhile, the outpost was in complete chaos. The task of searching for the murderer fell to the second-in-command, while Ms. Havana, the third-in-command of the interrogation department, calmly returned to her cell.

She approached the four brothers of the Zhan Gang and spoke arrogantly.

"We're short-handed right now. Why don't you guys come to the military post and find some work? Our rescue team's transport vehicles need security personnel. You're all strong and capable, rare finds."

Before he could finish speaking, Big B immediately perked up. "I'll do it! I'll do it! Will it reduce my sentence?"

Andro wanted to say something more, but he couldn't resist the enthusiasm of his three brothers.

He remembered it clearly--

The priest told them to stay obediently in the cell, as it was the safest place.

In just one day, they seemed to have regained their freedom, and were required to work for the military station and atone for their crimes through meritorious service.

"Big B"

"Stop talking nonsense," Schopenhauer muttered under his breath, his spine still not fully healed, as he gripped Andro's lower back. "This is a rare opportunity, Andro. You don't deserve to die, but think about your brothers."

A Jie shared the same attitude.

"--If I stay here any longer, I won't live to see summer."

At Saint Josh Joris's villa, the Blood-giving Monster placed three fresh ingredients into the refrigerator.

He heard the sirens outside and a cheerful smile spread across his face. The food on the table had been finished, and the guests' praise of the dishes made him very happy.

Knowing that even better ingredients awaited him in the coming days, his anticipation grew stronger.

He washed his blood-stained hands, turned on the gramophone, and sank into the soft sofa, the music playing.

Saladin is a wonderful place; I wish I could live here forever.