Tang Luo snapped the chain securing the iron gate and pushed it open.
"Let's go inside and take a look."
The other two naturally had no objections and followed Tang Luo.
Zhou Zhenguo also examined the corpse, confirming that it was well and truly dead.
It had been disemboweled—the Ripper's typical method. Strangely, though, not a drop of blood had spilled.
Just like Old John that night.
They had given up trying to figure out the Ripper's abilities from various clues and suspicious details.
Zhou Zhenguo and Chu Chongtian followed behind Tang Luo.
The only thought in their minds was, "Let's kick his ass."
It wasn't that they feared nothing; they simply had no choice but to fight with their backs to the wall.
"Something's wrong."
They might have stopped trying to guess the Ripper's abilities, but that didn't mean they had stopped thinking.
As soon as they entered the manor's main hall, Tang Luo and the others realized something was off.
The hall was empty. It didn't look anything like the slaughterhouse described in reports and rumors.
There were no corpses or bloodstains.
The lack of corpses was normal.
Even if they wanted to preserve the crime scene, the bodies would eventually have to be taken away. They could just mark their outlines on the ground.
But the bloodstains had disappeared too.
That wasn't normal.
Bloodstains were important evidence and clues.
Even if Scotland Yard had gone crazy and decided to wipe away the blood, there was no way they could have cleaned it up so thoroughly.
There wasn't a single sign of murder in the entire hall—except for the white human-shaped outlines drawn by Scotland Yard.
Instead, it looked more like they'd been robbed.
No, more accurately, they had been robbed.
Quite a few valuables had vanished, leaving behind only traces of where they had once been.
"Even the blood's gone," Chu Chongtian said. "What's this supposed to mean? Has the Ripper started becoming a god in Small City?"
"Let's check the secret room."
Tang Luo headed for the second floor.
There were clearly fewer "body outlines" on the second and third floors than on the first.
The three of them reached the study. The door was closed, but not locked.
They opened it and saw that, here too, some valuables had been removed, leaving empty spaces behind.
Not many people thought books were worth much.
The Scotland Yard officers hadn't discovered the secret behind the bookcase either.
According to Scotland Yard, Count Thorndike and the others were still considered "missing."
Their bodies had not been found, and their deaths had not been confirmed.
"Master, was this where you killed those people?" Chu Chongtian asked in the cramped elevator.
He had seen quite a few shell casings on the floor.
"Yeah."
Tang Luo said, "I got Ominous from Thorndike... I wonder if those people's bodies are still here."
They reached the basement.
A heavy stench of blood greeted them.
Dark, dried bloodstains covered the floor.
But all the bodies had disappeared.
Just like what had happened outside.
"Does the Ripper eat people too?" Chu Chongtian asked.
After investigating, the three of them left the empty manor and continued toward Small City.
"Maybe," Zhou Zhenguo said after thinking for a moment. "Do you think the Ripper's getting stronger?"
"Stronger?"
"He started out sneaking around, and now he's killing on a large scale. Even the bodies and bloodstains disappear," Zhou Zhenguo said. "I think he's gradually growing stronger through killing."
"Layman Zhou makes a good point."
Tang Luo nodded in agreement.
Chu Chongtian tilted his head back and gazed up at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle.
They'd been analyzing the Ripper's abilities and limits, trying to get a clear picture of what they were up against.
Then Zhou Zhenguo dismissed all of it with a single statement: "He's getting stronger."
The wind was a little restless today.
"So the longer we wait, the worse it gets for us. Maybe by then, even Master won't be able to take him on."
Zhou Zhenguo put it mildly. As far as he was concerned, the Ripper was already difficult to deal with. "We still have to search for him—find his true body!"
"The only clue we have is the dagger. By the way, was there a name engraved on it?"
Chu Chongtian asked.
It wasn't unusual for people to have their names engraved on personal belongings.
"I didn't see one." Zhou Zhenguo gave a helpless laugh. "Maybe it said 'Jack.'"
"Wait!"
Chu Chongtian suddenly stopped.
A darkness seemed to spread behind his eyes. Zhou Zhenguo's helpless joke sparked a flash of inspiration, forming a narrow streak of light that cut through the darkness.
No way!
"Why was the Ripper called Jack?" Chu Chongtian asked a question that sounded as simple as asking why one plus one equaled two.
At first glance, it seemed simple and stupid.
But think about it, and it was one of the hardest questions in the world.
"Because it's a common name?" Zhou Zhenguo said.
Jack the Ripper, Spring-Heeled Jack, Jack from the Titanic.
Jack was a very common name.
"That's in the real world, in the West," Chu Chongtian said. "How many Jacks have we met in Small City, besides Jack White? Not one. It isn't a common name here."
"It wasn't like everyone had just agreed to call him that, and the name stuck."
"Think about it. The documents we found already called him 'Jack the Ripper.' Why did Scotland Yard give the killer that name?"
"They officially called it the Jack the Ripper serial murder case. There had to be a reason!"
"The name Jack should be a clue every bit as important as the dagger."
"I've been wrong so many times! Probability says I have to get it right at least once!"
Chu Chongtian was worked up.
Could one mistake mean a lifetime of mistakes?
I, Chu Chongtian, refuse to accept that!
"That makes sense."
Tang Luo nodded again, offering his calm, Buddhist-style agreement.
"Master, let's go to Scotland Yard and find out why they called him Jack the Ripper," Chu Chongtian said.
"Sure."
The three of them arrived at the chaotic Scotland Yard.
After enduring several dirty looks and impatient rebukes, they finally got the information they wanted.
Jack the Ripper had been officially named by the inspector at Scotland Yard.
Apparently, after the third murder, the inspector had given the killer the name and ordered a full investigation.
The clue pointed to the highest-ranking law enforcement officer in Small City?
And that officer was already dead.
His family had taken his body away, and the funeral had already been held.
No one knew why the inspector had called the killer Jack.
Perhaps his deputy, who had been close to him, knew. But that man had died too.
The remaining deputy, in fact, hadn't gotten along with the inspector.
All the inspector's personal belongings had been sent back to his home.
So Tang Luo and the others went to the inspector's house.
After they showed the family the document, the inspector's relatives allowed them into his study, perhaps because it bore his handwritten signature.
They could look around for anything useful.
They had originally been prepared to force their way in or sneak in at night.
Now they could search openly and methodically, without any more twists and turns.
Tang Luo forced open the safe hidden inside the desk.
The inspector's family didn't know the combination.
They also hadn't called a locksmith or blacksmith to force it open.
So it had remained intact.
Inside were a revolver, a few bullets, some money, a few documents, and a diary.
Tang Luo quietly took the diary, then told the inspector's family that the safe was broken and there were some things inside.
The three of them left and began reading the diary.
"Holy shit!"
A few minutes later, Chu Chongtian couldn't help exclaiming.
"Quite the player," Tang Luo remarked.
The diary detailed the inspector's colorful nightlife. He'd certainly known how to have a good time.
But that clearly wasn't what they were looking for.
They kept flipping through the pages. The entries weren't continuous.
Some weeks, he'd write two or three times; other weeks, only once.
Sometimes there were gaps of ten days or half a month.
"Pages were torn out."
Before long, Tang Luo and the others noticed traces of missing pages.
"Seriously?"
Chu Chongtian let out a groan.
It felt like one of those infuriating quest chains: "To complete mission A, go find B. B gives you mission C, and to complete mission C, you have to find D." They could practically see it unfolding in front of them.
Luckily, after a few more pages, something turned up.
What they'd thought was missing appeared again, as if it had grown back!
"Inspector, where are you off to?"
"To enter the palace, seek out the royal jewels, meet my colleagues, and serve the Emperor."
"And if you never return..."
"Then I never return!"
Thank goodness, thank goodness. The inspector wasn't that kind of person.
Chu Chongtian was overjoyed and eagerly started reading.
After a dozen or so blank pages, the diary resumed. The date was a few days before the first murder—
November 23.
That same nightmare again.
I wrote it down, then tore the page out.
Now I know I can't seem to escape it.
Thirteen days!
Thirteen whole days!
The same dream!
In the dream, I'm lying on a cold, hard floor, my vision blurred.
Figures move around me, but I can't make them out.
I don't know who they are.
Severe pain courses through my body, but I can't move at all.
I endure it bit by bit, until I suddenly wake up.
The pain lingers and slowly fades, as if it had really happened.
November 24.
The same dream, the same blurred scene, the same excruciating pain.
And again, even struggling feels like a luxury.
But this time, I vaguely heard a name—Jack.
Was it the name of the "me" in the dream, or one of those indistinct figures?
November 25.
I didn't dream today. Was I finally going to be free of it?
November 26.
There was a murder last night. The victim had been disemboweled, and the fallout was awful.
The nightmares were gone, but now trouble had come in the real world.
November 30.
Another murder. Damn it!
December 5.
All right, this was the third one. I was starting to lose sleep.
Maybe that was a good thing. At least I wouldn't have to worry about the nightmares.
December 8.
I hadn't lost any sleep or had any nightmares. That sounded like a good sign—
If I hadn't woken in the middle of the night to find myself standing at my bedroom door!
Thankfully, Mary and I had slept in separate rooms for five years.
At least she wouldn't discover my sleepwalking?
December 10.
I wanted to lock myself up. I'd found traces of blood on my body.
I didn't know what I'd done while sleepwalking. I was a little frightened—
December 24.
All right, aside from the damn string of murders, nothing was bothering me at the moment.
The murders needed a name. Let's call it the Ripper—the Jack the Ripper case.
Thanks to A Lecher Who Has Read Many Books, Tyrannosaurus's Journey, and Miao Zhi for the tips!
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