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The air conditioner in the medical examiner's office was very cold, but Jin Haoguang's heart was even colder.

He stood nervously against the wall like a primary school student who had made a mistake. Li Sheng stood opposite him, holding a Glock pistol in his hand, frowning as he examined the female corpse on the dissection table.

From the appearance, the female corpse was undoubtedly Jiang Shaoxi, the wife of Jiang Wanyong who disappeared mysteriously a week ago. The clothes she was wearing were also consistent with the photos in the mobile phone library.

Li Sheng suddenly asked: "Did the person who sent the body mention the time, cause and place of Jiang Shaoxi's death?"

Jin Haoguang was shocked and answered subconsciously: "It was mentioned that the time of death was one day ago, the cause of death was an overdose of sleeping pills, and the location was an unmanned apartment in Gangnam District, Seoul - Ms. Jiang lived there when she just got married."

Jin Haoguang reported a string of addresses. In Jiang Wanyong's mobile phone album, there were indeed photos of the couple living in a small shabby house when they were young, poor but happy. At that time, their eldest daughter had just been born.

Li Sheng observed the dried vomit left at the corner of the corpse's mouth, thinking.

When making sleeping pills, cephaeline and other emetic materials are added. It's okay to take a small amount, but a large amount at one time will cause a strong vomiting reaction.

Those who try to commit suicide by swallowing sleeping pills will vomit while sleeping in a state of blurred consciousness, and then their own vomit will choke their throats and suffocate. The whole process is definitely not peaceful and painless, let alone dignified.

Li Sheng reached out and pinched the corpse's arm, and found that it was stiff to the touch, and it was not the stiffness of rigor mortis.

He raised his eyebrows, and in Jin Haoguang's shocked and stunned eyes, he picked up a dissecting scalpel and cut down along the midline of the lower jaw of the corpse.

The scalpel was extremely sharp, and it cut through the clothes, skin, pleura, and diaphragm neatly, exposing the chest and abdominal cavity.

Clang.

Jin Haoguang's face was pale, and he took two steps back in fear. In a panic, his palm swept across the table, sweeping the paper and pen on the table to the ground.

Internal organs, all the internal organs in the chest and abdominal cavity of Jiang Shaoxi's body disappeared.

"Don't be nervous, this is not a person, just a human model."

Li Sheng reached into the abdominal cavity of the human model and pressed it, and found that it was made of silicone. The eyeballs are artificial eyes made of special glass, the bones are glass fiber and carbon fiber, and the hair is a high-end wig glued on with glue.

Such a super-high-end human model that is almost lifelike requires at least tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of dollars to make. Only a few companies in the world, including Hollywood special effects studios, are capable of making it.

The question is, is it necessary?

Jiang Wanyong and his wife are ordinary people who came from a small town to a big city to work hard. They don't have any extraordinary family background, and they don't usually provoke people they shouldn't provoke.

Why did the murderer behind Jiang Shaoxi's disappearance spend a lot of money and effort to create a human model to act as a corpse to cover up his tracks?

Wouldn't it be better to just let Jiang Shaoxi remain missing?

You should know that South Korea is a country with a large number of missing persons. Every year, there are 50,000 cases of missing adults reported. On average, the bodies of 5 runaways are found every day in the country.

Jiang Shaoxi is just one of them. Why bother to fabricate a suicide scene and increase the risk?

[The first-stage mission goal has been completed]

[The second-stage mission goal: Find Jiang Shaoxi]

[The mission time limit: 2 hours]

[The mission reward: 100 experience points]

[The mission failed penalty: Stay in the script world]

Li Sheng listened to the timely system broadcast, put the human model into the backpack column, and suddenly turned his head to look at Jin Haoguang, "Director Jin, are you afraid of the cold?"

Jin Haoguang's face became paler and paler, and he stammered: "Please, please don't kill me, I still have family, and I just know Song Canhui and those people, and I have never done bad things with them."

Li Sheng didn't listen to his nonsense, and hit him on the side of his forehead with a knife, knocking him unconscious, and then took away Jin Haoguang's mobile phone and car keys, tied his hands behind his back, tied his thumbs and wrists with plastic ties, and finally threw him into the lying board compartment of the morgue where the temperature was close to zero, and closed the compartment door.

To prevent Jin Haoguang from waking up and calling for help, Li Sheng also stuffed a towel into his mouth. In some movies and TV shows, kidnappers only use rags to block the hostages' mouths, which is not feasible. The hostages can easily spit it out.

The towel must be rolled into a ball and stuffed into the hostage's mouth. In this way, because the opening arc is limited, the mouth cannot use force and the towel cannot be spit out.

At the same time, the hardness and position of the towel and the tongue must be taken into account to avoid suffocation caused by stuffing too full, or vomiting caused by compression of the tongue root.

The whole principle is actually similar to not stuffing a light bulb into the mouth.

Li Sheng walked out of the morgue, came to the surface parking lot, got into Jin Haoguang's car, and drove into the bustling city.

——————

Gangnam District, the most important and prosperous commercial area in Seoul.

Under the white chandelier in the basement, there are several rows of long tables. Men and women wearing only underwear and breathing masks are sitting behind the table, processing and packaging white powder like a factory assembly line.

Although South Korea has always claimed to be a "drug-free country" and a "drug-free country", that is just a slogan.

The US military bases in South Korea after World War II gave rise to the industry chain of pornography, gambling and drugs. South Korea's own rapid economic development and the social atmosphere of suppressing involution have greatly activated the market.

So much so that every sewage treatment plant in South Korea can detect contraband including methamphetamine and ketamine.

Under the calm surface, evil grows silently.

A middle-aged man named Song Canhui, who used to be the section chief of the Seoul Local Police Agency, looked at the underground factory like a leader. He suddenly raised his hand and pointed at a Southeast Asian woman, motioning her to stand up, "You, follow me."

The Southeast Asian woman who was pointed out trembled all over, stood up stiffly, followed Song Canhui, and walked to the secret room at the end of the underground factory.

There are a large number of foreign workers in South Korea, most of whom can only do the so-called "3D" jobs that Koreans are unwilling to do, that is, dirty, difficult, and dangerous. And because of South Korean policy, foreign workers need to obtain permission from their employers to change jobs, which puts them in a disadvantaged position and is easily exploited, discriminated against, and abused.

The furnishings of the secret room are relatively simple, with a bed and a simple bathroom separated by a glass baffle.

"Go take a shower first."

Song Canhui's tone did not allow refusal, and pushed the Southeast Asian woman into the bathroom.

The smell of the drug production line is foul, and the requirement for employees to wear underwear is not only to prevent people from smuggling drugs, but also to facilitate the removal of body odor.

‘Today, I went to the police station’

While waiting for the woman to wash, Song Canhui looked at the light bulb on the ceiling, his eyes slightly absent-minded, and couldn't help but recall when he just graduated from the Seoul Police Academy more than 20 years ago.

At that time, he was full of ambition, thinking about becoming famous and upholding justice. But reality gave him a heavy slap in the face.

All colleagues in the police station tacitly agreed that criminal suspects with no background could be tortured into confessing, and the senior police officers and wealthy businessmen were in cahoots. The villains who flattered the superiors and bullied the subordinates could be promoted all the way, while his predecessor, the police officer who adhered to the bottom line, was excluded and suppressed everywhere, and finally died on the front line against crime. Even after his death, his family did not get the support they deserved.

After witnessing all this, the once idealistic Song Canhui had died, gradually becoming one with the dust, gradually becoming corrupt,

retired from the position of section chief of the police department, and was hired by a good businessman to help him manage this underground drug factory. Everything was so natural.

Snap.

The lights suddenly went out, and the room fell into darkness.

Song Canhui was stunned, and suddenly stood up from the bed, leaning to the door and looking out.

To prevent accidents, the drug factory bought a spare diesel generator that can provide seamless power supply.

The lights outside also went out.

The male and female employees who were only wearing underwear didn't know what was going on. A dozen factory security guards held flashlights in one hand and machetes and baseball bats in the other hand to keep everyone quiet.

At the entrance at the end of the factory, there was a staircase extending upwards, leading to a heavy explosion-proof iron door. There should be several guards outside the iron door. Responsible for not letting anyone in and out.

In the suffocating silence, blood seeped in from under the explosion-proof iron door and continued to spread along the downward steps. It quickly accumulated into a pool of blood.

Squeak-ah--

The explosion-proof iron door slowly opened. Due to the blind spot of vision, everyone could only see a pair of police boots at the end of the stairs.