Central City—Central Precinct—Autopsy Room.
Barry arrived at the autopsy room at a jog, his face anxious and his breath slightly ragged.
The Evidence Department often worked with forensic examiners, frequently participating in joint autopsies and evidence collection, so Barry was no stranger to this place.
The autopsy room was cold, with a faintly chilling atmosphere. Combined with the cold dissection instruments all around and the smell of formaldehyde, it always gave people an eerie feeling.
There was only one male forensic examiner in the room. Wearing a white lab coat and a mask, he was busy at work.
On the operating table lay the body recovered by police divers after two hours of searching: Al Swan's already pallid corpse. His entire body had turned pale from oxygen deprivation, his lips were bluish-purple, his skin wet, cold, and clammy. The pallor was caused by constricted blood vessels in the skin. His livor mortis was light red, and the arrector pili muscles across his body displayed so-called goosebumps.
When Barry saw Al Swan's body, he still found it hard to believe.
Just that morning, Al Swan had chatted with him and tried to pry information out of him. Back then, he had been alive, emotional, and vivid, extracting Alex's identity as Music Hero from Barry before driving away with that grateful smile.
But now, he lay silently on the operating table, his corpse seeming as though it possessed only black and white.
He was dead.
Had Alex killed him?
Barry's face showed terror and unease. The low temperature touched his skin, seeming to seep from there into his heart. A chill rose from his spine and climbed coldly into his brain, making him think of Alex despite himself.
Was it Alex?
"You're here, Barry. This is a little early—the autopsy report will