Maoshan Arts in the New Era

This inference was practically fantastical, yet fit the on-site "evidence" exceptionally well. It undoubtedly caused a brief stir among the few people at the scene who knew the truth.

Did this mean that a man whose throat had already been slit had generated a temperature hot enough to melt metal when his palm touched the ground during the brief interval before death arrived?

It sounded far too absurd.

"There's more. Aside from injuries caused by external force, we found no burns on the deceased's hands. The pajama cuffs are basically normal as well."

Seeing everyone's eyes turn toward him, Old Zhou thought for a moment before slowly adding another sentence. This ruled out common possibilities such as hiding something in the sleeves.

Precisely because they knew he definitely wasn't joking, no one could laugh at all.

Silence filled the scene.

During that brief quiet, Old Chen's phone suddenly began to vibrate.

He took it out and glanced at the screen. It was Deputy Director Zhao Zhijian's direct line.

He excused himself and only answered after walking over to the window.

"Director Zhao."

"Captain Chen, how are things at the scene?" Director Zhao's voice sounded as steady as ever, but after years of familiarity, Old Chen still caught an unusual undertone.

This time, even the other party had called him "Captain Chen."

"Things are complicated."

Captain Chen paused, briefly organizing his words. "Our preliminary judgment is that this was probably the work of a professional killer. The methods were clean and efficient, and there are signs that the victim may have been beaten and interrogated. The murderer also appears to have carried out a simple clea—"

"Good, understood."

With no intention of listening any further, Zhao Zhijian directly cut off his detailed report. His tone carried an unusually commanding edge this