Of everything that Horace Lee had said to date, what he just said held the most truth.

Because from the available evidence in the present, it was indeed as he said: 

At the warehouses where the elderly were detained on both Redstone and Helan in the Elderly Bobblehead case, the police had found two types of footprints on the crime scene. Namely, from Suspect No. 1, as represented by Lawyer Dane, and from Mr Horace Lee here.

But what was truly staggering was how far ahead Horace Lee was in terms of quantity.

Especially in the last scene found.

It was an old warehouse on the western side of Emerald Valley in the northern hemisphere of Helan which, upon its discovery, contained a total of 23 cages, shutting 23 elderly inside. 

Based on the material and photos that Manager Adams put together, the cages were not crowded together and were even somewhat spacious.

Suspect No. 1 had left virtually no traces behind. The police extrapolated that he had cleaned up behind himself as a precaution.

But Horace Lee was different. This mister acted like a tourist with a goal to sightsee every nook, and his footprints were littered across the entire warehouse.

The footwear evidence at the crime scene had passed through many hands and was presented in a fancy and shocking tone by some media outlets, one of the main reasons for the public outrage against Horace Lee.

Because someone had reconstructed the scene from those footprints.

And Horace Lee’s—to whom that footprint trail belonged—every stride was leisurely and at ease.

These footprints were indicative of Horace Lee’s mood when he appeared at the scene. Relaxed and rather amused, maybe even mocking as he strolled around each cage.

Like a wild beast admiring his prey. 

Except what the cages trapped were not prey, but actual people.

Aged, feeble, and completely defenceless elderly people, even losing their minds in the process.

Apart from this, it was as he had said. The police had managed to extract his fingerprints from some of the cages.

Many people speculated from this that he was likely gripping the metal bars of the cages with both hands, examining the people inside the cages from up close. 

A few hair strands were even found at the scene, as well as a very small amount of skin tissue that was matched to Horace Lee through DNA testing.

The police inferred the possibility that Horace Lee’s observation caused some elderly to be agitated by sudden bouts of mania, thereupon tried to attack or scratch him. Most were unsuccessful and were avoided by him.

However, one succeeded.

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With rough patchwork and blind guesses, they could weave a thousand horror stories around Horace Lee.

Of course, no one knew how many of these guesses were close to the truth and how many were overstatements. Only Horace Lee himself would. 

Yet this man wasn’t being cooperative.

A few news articles popped up on his smart device. Gu Yan glanced down at them, then fell into a moment of silence.

After a moment, he flipped the screen over to Horace Lee. “Five minutes ago, close to twenty of the victims in this case suddenly suffered from multiple organ failure.”

Horace Lee’s eyebrows twitched, and there was a subtle change in his expression. 

Gu Yan and Yan Suizhi stared into his eyes—within those hazel eyes, they couldn’t see any guilt, remorse, or other such emotions. Not the least bit of it.

underThere was only a sliver of change in him, and that was merely out of surprise.

Gu Yan’s brows creased marginally.

But Yan Suizhi chuckled. 

He reclined into his seat. Not the faintest mirth travelled to his eyes. He looked at Horace Lee and said, “I think that you’ve been under a mistaken impression for quite some time now.”

Horace Lee lifted his eyes from the article. “What’s that?”

“You seem to believe that you’re in a cooperative relationship with us, so you’ve been performing, squabbling, beating around the bush, and assuming airs. Every now and then when the topic is almost broached, you’d also aggravate people verbally.”

Yan Suizhi laughed lightly, yet his eyes were calm and steely. “I don’t know if you wish to show an obstinate front or whatsoever. That’s up to you, but I’m obliged to remind you this—we’ve never been in any kind of cooperative relationship with grounds for negotiation. As a fish on the chopping block that could eat a bullet at any moment, you don’t have any bargaining chips on hand that you can use to squabble with or assume airs. I am unclear where your confidence and courage comes from, to be able to play charades with us with your chin jutted out.” 

Horace Lee, “…”

The mouth of the client in question twitched, as though he wanted to erupt in rage yet had nowhere to start. He was finding that this intern’s every word and every action was able to tick him off.

God knew if it was an infernal innate gift at offending people.

Horace Lee seemed to be trying to put up the full display of ‘obstinacy’ that Yan Suizhi was talking about. He stewed for a long time, then refuted, “From what I know, the case I’m embroiled in only looks intimidating, but it wouldn’t even lead to a death sentence, so where did you pull the ‘eat a bullet’ from?” 

Yan Suizhi arched an eyebrow. “You actually know this?”

“Of course I do!”

Whether it was due to the taunt in Yan Suizhi’s tone or something else, Horace Lee looked even more enraged now. But it’d make him look insane if he was the only one in the room to lose his top, so he could only rein himself in.

In fact however, he wasn’t wrong to say that. 

In spite of the far-reaching impact of the Elderly Bobblehead case and the high level of public scrutiny, first, there were no mortalities, and secondly, there was more than one suspect. This latter point made it difficult to determine who between them had caused more harm and who should bear more blame. At the same time, the court couldn’t rule out that there might still be even more complicated circumstances.

In cases so prone to error as this, the death sentence would not usually be pronounced on anyone.

Because once the death sentence was passed, it would be difficult to revoke in the future if it was discovered that a mistake was made.

“You aren’t wrong to say that this case shouldn’t lead to a death sentence.” 

As Yan Suizhi spoke, he held Gu Yan’s little finger to show Horace Lee the smart device on it. “But it’s impossible to tell further down the road. You’ve seen the news just now, too. I suggest you utter a sincere prayer in the ward over the next few days for the speedy recovery of those elderly victims. All it takes is one, just one, unable to pull through from the organ failure and a host of other complications, lamentably resulting in their death—for the maximum sentence to change from incarceration to death.”

Yan Suizhi paused here before unhurriedly carrying on, “Judging from your previous response, you fear death—intensely. You might be able to tolerate anything else, but dying petrifies you.”

Horace Lee’s expression darkened.

“So, am I wrong to liken you to a fish on the chopping board?” Yan Suizhi asked politely. 

Horace Lee was silent.

Yan Suizhi went on, “I believe that it’s quite vivid imagery.”

Horace Lee’s face flushed with rage.

He glared at Yan Suizhi through slitted eyes for a while, then turned to look at Gu Yan, “As the teacher, does Lawyer Gu have anything to say about your intern speaking to your client like this?” 

Gu Yan slid a sidelong look at Yan Suizhi, then said, “I do have a few sentences.”

Horace Lee’s expression eased.

Gu Yan evenly said, “As your defence lawyer, I have a duty to analyse the situation for my client. Presently, the one under police custody is you, the one wary about being poisoned is you, the one soon to sit in the defendant’s booth is you, and it was you who had requested our help. I’ve helped my intern summarise it; I hope that this suffices to elucidate the current situation.”

“…” 

Horace Lee: To hell with you teacher and student! Even the damn style has been passed down the tutelage!

“I believe that I’ve already expressed our position clearly enough. So now, I’ll have to trouble you to recall what you were doing during the time frame of the Elderly Bobblehead case—what was your motive, why had you visited every scene, and why those psychedelic drugs would be present in your luggage.” Only now did Gu Yan pull up a blank electronic page, lifting his chin at his client.



It was 10 a.m. in Fa Wang District. 

The two space shuttles that had been blocked en-route for days finally signalled to De Carma’s Port Newsa that they would be linking up and docking in an hour.

The faulty space shuttle ahead was fully repaired and the passenger cabin, which had caught fire, was restored to its original condition.

The large maintenance vessel re-powered the space shuttle and disconnected from it.

As the maintenance vessel departed from the starfield, the communication signal on both shuttles was no longer affected and returned to maximum capacity. 

For a time, the passenger cabin was filled with the ringing of message notifications on smart devices.

Yan Suizhi’s landlord, Mervyn White, removed his eye mask and adjusted his seat back to an upright position. He turned on and checked the smart device that had been dormant for days. The messages that had clogged up during this time flocked over, shaking his hand to the point of numbness.

He skimmed through each one, briefly responding to a few of them.

He was about to inform Yan Suizhi that he would be touching down soon and thereafter be available any time for a meeting, but an email of unknown origin a few strokes down the screen diverted his attention. 

Mervyn White jolted and opened it out of curiosity. Immediately after, his complexion changed.

Perhaps the change in his complexion was too obvious. The person in the neighbouring seat peeked over at him and couldn’t help but ask, “Heh, are you doing okay? Why does your complexion look so bad?”

It took Mervyn White a while to regain his wits. He touched his cheek, laughing drily, “Really?”

“What did you see?” That friend flashed his own smart device. “After a few days without reception, I just found out that I’ve been fired. Yours can’t be any worse than mine, can it?” 

Mervyn White downed half a glass of water. “Not too bad. I just received an email euphemistically threatening me to keep my mouth shut or they’re going to be holding my funeral.”

His neighbour-buddy, “…”