The Names on the List

The smoke in the interrogation room grew thicker. The newly lit cigarette between Feng Jianguo's fingers, like his precarious life, released its last, toxic energy as it burned steadily.

His serene face was partially obscured by the bluish-gray smoke, but his dark eyes, like two bottomless ancient wells, recounted all the shocking crimes with an almost Zen-like calm.

Veteran detective Wang Yong felt as if his throat had been rubbed with rough sandpaper, dry and painful. Looking at the emaciated man opposite him who controlled the entire conversation, he was gripped by an unprecedented sense of powerlessness and chill.

He subconsciously reached into his pocket for the cigarette pack, his fingertips even touching the familiar hard casing, but ultimately didn't take it out.

Li Zhen sat there stiffly, his brain struggling to process the overwhelming amount of information. Sun Tingting's death and Feng Jianguo's calm narration kept replaying in his mind. Like a drowning man, he desperately tried to grasp a piece of driftwood of reason, only to find himself being dragged deeper and deeper into the cold vortex of logic in the other party's words.

In the almost frozen silence, Feng Jianguo took a drag of his cigarette, then, as if suddenly remembering some trivial matter, his tone shifted naturally, and he said:

"Oh, right," he lifted his eyelids, his gaze sweeping over the two detectives, "I also pulled out that counselor's tongue."

A single, casual remark, like a boulder thrown into a stagnant pool.

Li Zhen shuddered violently, his pupils suddenly contracting.

Even Wang Yong, who had been trying his best to remain calm, seemed to be struck by lightning; his body tensed almost imperceptibly, and the emotions he had been suppressing finally broke through his professional mask, blurting out:

"What did you say?!"

His voice was distorted and hoarse without him even realizing it. Tongue pulled out?! This was no longer a simple act of violence; it was an extremely cruel form of torture, reminiscent of medieval brutality!

Feng Jianguo seemed unsurprised by Wang Yong's outburst, nor did he show any smugness. He continued speaking slowly in that frighteningly calm tone, as if describing a medical procedure:

"Don't worry, I stopped the bleeding. I used gauze and Yunnan from her first-aid kit, and I packed it very tightly. As long as she was discovered in time, she shouldn't be in any danger."

He even thoughtfully added details, as if to reassure the two police officers, or perhaps to confirm the "professionalism" of his actions.

"And that presiding judge," he paused, as if recalling a name, "The one surnamed He, I tied him up too."

Wang Yong felt his blood run cold in that instant. Counselor Li Jing! Judge He! These two names, like Sun Tingting and Zhang Qian, were key figures in the Lin Feng case! This Feng Jianguo wasn't randomly selecting targets; he was methodically and systematically "purging" them one by one, following an invisible "revenge list"!

"Originally," Feng Jianguo continued, his tone even carrying a hint of... deliberation? as if explaining his own logic, "I hadn't figured out how to deal with this counselor. In that incident, she mainly tried to smooth things over, indirectly contributing to the escalation of the situation. But to be honest, being afraid of trouble and wanting to settle things peacefully is, in many cases,... human nature."

He seemed to be trying to justify Li Jing's behavior, which created an extremely bizarre contrast with his previous cold-blooded actions.

"So, at first I thought we should give her a chance." He changed the subject, "But I discovered something during my subsequent investigation."

His gaze sharpened, revealing a certainty based on his own investigation.

"The poverty subsidies for the classes she teaches each year don't go to those students who are truly from impoverished families and need the money for food and books." For the first time, Feng Jianguo's voice revealed a clear, cold contempt. "The spots are all given to students who are on good terms with her, who know how to get things done, or whose families aren't actually that poor."

He paused for a moment, allowing the information to settle in the minds of the two detectives.

"So I knew," he concluded, his tone returning to calm, yet carrying a final, judgmental tone, "Her heart was crooked. Not just in that case, but fundamentally, in her very work. A person with a crooked heart is unsuitable for a position educating students."

Inappropriate.

Three simple words, spoken lightly, determined Li Jing's fate.

"As for Presiding Judge He," Feng Jianguo turned the conversation to the last person, "I investigated some of the cases he handled in the past, and from the publicly available information, there didn't seem to be many obviously wrongdoings, at least not as blatant as this time. Of course, it's also possible that my investigation wasn't thorough enough and I didn't uncover anything."

He exhibited a strange kind of "rigor" and "prudence".

"In that case," he continued, as if weighing some options, "I've decided to give him a chance too. I didn't hurt him like I did to others."

Hearing this, Wang Yong and Li Zhen felt even more tense than relaxed. They knew that the "give me a chance" that came from this man's mouth was not forgiveness in the ordinary sense.

"I just," Feng Jianguo gestured with his hand holding the cigarette, making a disassembly-like motion, "Took his arm off. Then, I put it back on."

His movements were subtle, and his description was simple, but the pain he conveyed made Li Zhen instinctively shrank his shoulders.

"It was repeated several times," Feng Jianguo added, his tone still calm. "The shoulder area, the glenoid labrum and ligaments, after being repeatedly pulled and injured like this, will develop into habitual dislocation. In the future, it's easy for your arm to dislocate if you sneeze or raise it suddenly."

He even offered a medical explanation.

Then, he looked at the two policemen, a look of almost "mercy" on his face, and uttered the most chilling line of his monologue:

"That way, when he strikes the hammer in the future, he won't be so quick or hasty. He can... take more time to think things through."

Careful consideration.

In order to make him "think things through," they used this extremely cruel method to leave a permanent and painful mark on his body!

A deathly silence fell over the interrogation room.

The faint hissing sound of a burning cigarette sounded amplified countless times.

Wang Yong opened his mouth, but found that his throat was blocked by something, and he couldn't say a word. He looked at Feng Jianguo, at this man whose life was about to end, who was playing the role of "judge" and "executioner" in his last moments, and a chill started from his heart and instantly froze his limbs.

This is no ordinary criminal; he is a Madman who has established a self-consistent, distorted standard of "justice" and has enough drive to carry it out... or, in his own words, a desperate ordinary person who wants to "do something big" before he dies.

Li Zhen's face turned deathly pale, and his stomach churned. He had handled murder cases and witnessed bloody scenes, but never before had he felt such a powerful emotional impact simply through words. Feng Jianguo's calm was more terrifying than any hysterical roar. He not only took lives, but he was also wantonly altering the bodies and destinies of others, and attributing them to what he considered a set of "educational meanings."

Feng Jianguo seemed to have finished speaking. He stubbed out the last bit of his cigarette, then leaned back comfortably, closed his eyes, as if he had completed a heavy task and could finally rest. A trace of relief and exhaustion even appeared on his pale face.

Only two detectives remained, trapped in the smoke-filled interrogation room, a space brimming with both madness and composure. Faced with a series of chilling confessions that far exceeded the scope of conventional criminal cases, they were speechless for a long time.