Light in the Darkness Chapter Forty-Two: Testing the White Powder

Chen Yufeng’s superior had given him a three-day deadline to completely resolve the case. Now, with another day gone, only two days remained.

The autopsy reports for the first two cases had finally arrived. The coroner’s final conclusion was that the victim in the first case had died by burning, and the second case was also connected to fire. Yet, the perplexing part was that the deceased had been submerged in water—their skin perfectly intact, without any signs of burns. However, during the autopsy, the coroner discovered traces of fire toxicity in the internal organs.

Though hard to believe, both victims in the first two cases had been killed by fire. Fire toxicity is not a toxin in the traditional sense; in medical terms, it refers to the internal damage caused by burning, which affects not only the skin but also the organs.

Within a short period, three cases had occurred, and there was still no clue about the perpetrator or the method of killing. One incident might be an accident, but three in a row? That could hardly be coincidence.

Chen Yufeng knew he could not afford to deceive himself. No matter what, he had to solve the case in the shortest possible time.

It was not only about the deadline set by his superior; the external pressure in the last two days had grown immense. Now, the entire nation’s netizens had learned of the incident through a short video app.

Rumors on one such platform claimed that even the country’s highest leader had taken notice.

Since the nation triumphed over the pandemic, this was the second event to receive such widespread attention.

Mo Han and her companions had also arrived at the crime scene. Under Jiang Li’s guidance, they crossed the cordon and entered the heart of the investigation.

This time, the victim’s cause of death was obvious even without the coroner’s report. In the scorching July heat, the victim’s entire body was icy cold—frozen to death.

Again, there were no external injuries. The only explanation was one reminiscent of a well-known domestic mystery film, where a similar case had occurred.

In the movie, the murderer used a special drug to induce hallucinations, causing the victim to mistake illusion for reality—like the first two victims, who believed they were being burned alive.

In their hallucinations, this was indeed happening. Bizarre as it seemed, the reality was that they died as if burned by fire.

Such a phenomenon defied the laws of reality. The film explained that the hallucinations were so vivid that the victim could no longer distinguish reality from illusion, resulting in psychosis—a permanent entrapment in a world of fantasy.

It was as if, although your eyes told you it wasn’t real, your brain insisted it was.

The third victim’s body was found curled up, wrapped tightly in a thick quilt.

This matched every characteristic of death by freezing.

Could a fictional plot from a film actually happen in real life?

Anyone familiar with Detective Conan knows that many of the murder methods in the show are impossible in reality.

As for why they work in animation, that’s a question for the author.

“Jiang Li, earlier you mentioned a link with personality traits. What did you mean?” Chen Yufeng suddenly brightened at Jiang Li’s words.

“To easily induce hallucinations, it depends on the individual’s strength of will. Some, like you or me, possess strong beliefs and are less likely to be affected, though it’s not impossible,” Jiang Li replied.

“As far as we know, the boy from the second case lacked confidence—even to the point of self-effacement. People like this, with weak convictions, are easily lost,” Jiang Li continued.

“If we follow this line of reasoning, then the victims in the first and third cases must be similar—deeply oppressed for too long, filled with disappointment in life, quick to anger…”

Mo Han nodded. “That makes sense.”

Chen Yufeng grunted in agreement.

Su Zheyuan and Wei Gaoqing said nothing.

Song Yingxin was utterly confused: “What are they even talking about? I can’t understand a thing…”

Not far away, the other members assigned to this mission had also gathered.

“See? You can’t trust these veterans. They never tell us anything,” one muttered.

“Exactly,” others echoed.

A wicked thought crept into the hearts of this group as they watched the others from a distance: If only we could be the sole survivors of this mission, wouldn’t that be ideal?

Jiang Li, meanwhile, was preparing to return to the police station with Chen Yufeng, unaware of the distant group’s growing resentment—or that he had become the object of their malice.

Not that Jiang Li would care, even if he knew. He was generally good-tempered, but if anyone dared stab him in the back, he would not hesitate to retaliate.

This confidence was born of real ability, not empty arrogance.

Back at the police station, Chen Yufeng immediately took the white powder found at the scene for analysis.

If they could identify this powder, they could deduce the killer’s method. Then, by tracing the sales records of this substance and checking recent buyers, the truth would come to light.

Chen Yufeng led Jiang Li and the others to the chemistry lab. One thing struck Chen Yufeng as odd—not only was Jiang Li unusually invested in the case, but the other three seemed overly concerned as well.

As an experienced officer, tempered by his military background, Chen Yufeng trusted his instincts. Jiang Li was hiding something from him, and it had to do with the three others. He glanced back at the trio whispering to each other at the rear, then at the pensive Jiang Li, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

Jiang Li’s behavior reminded Chen Yufeng of someone on a special covert mission—a style reminiscent of Jiang Li’s conduct during their time in the army.

When Jiang Li became serious, he was a different person altogether. Chen Yufeng recalled a mission on the border, when Jiang Li had gone without sleep in pursuit of the enemy for two days and nights.

He succeeded in apprehending the target just before they escaped across the border.

Both sides suffered casualties, but Jiang Li's adversaries fared much worse.

Out of an enemy squad of twenty, only three remained at the end. Of course, Jiang Li and his teammates had already taken out some of them earlier; still, around ten remained at the finale. Teammates pursued others or stayed behind due to injuries.

Jiang Li faced ten well-armed adversaries alone. Despite being vastly outnumbered and outgunned, he completed the mission flawlessly.

Afterward, Jiang Li spent two months recovering in the hospital, having been shot several times. Fortunately, none were fatal, though three bullets struck his right leg.

He dragged his wounded leg for two days and nights, his body covered with wounds and cuts that would make any bystander blanch. An ordinary man would have fainted long before.

It was sheer force of will and unyielding determination—he simply could not let the enemy leave national territory—that brought Jiang Li his success.

They soon arrived at the chemistry lab, where Professor Chen—famed chemist of Tinhai City—was waiting.

“Professor Chen, can you analyze this white powder as quickly as possible? The whole country is waiting for our answer,” Chen Yufeng said.

“Don’t worry, Xiao Chen. Leave it to me. Take your colleagues out for now—give me five hours, and I’ll have your answer,” the professor replied.

“Thank you, Professor,” Chen Yufeng replied, knowing the professor disliked being disturbed during experiments. He quickly ushered everyone out.

“It’s already noon, Captain Chen. Your comrades haven’t eaten yet, have they? Let’s go grab lunch. You can trust Professor Chen with this, can’t you?” Song Yingxin suggested, emerging from behind the group.

“Yes, but I…” Chen Yufeng started to say he had no appetite, but Song Yingxin gestured toward Mo Han and the others. Just then, a loud rumble echoed—Su Zheyuan rubbed his head sheepishly, embarrassed.

Song Yingxin had only meant to remind Chen Yufeng that, among those with Jiang Li, there was a young student. While veterans might skip a meal, it wasn’t right to make a student go hungry.

——I thought I could write a flawless deduction show, but I overestimated myself.

After a two-week break to deal with personal matters, updates can now continue regularly. As I’ve always said, no matter how bad this book gets, I’ll see it through to the end.

Should any unforeseen circumstances arise, I’ll mention it—though, to be honest, no one would care even if I didn’t…