Chapter 351: The Puppet on the Strings

2022-05-20

The other two heard the sound as well. Gu Chen reached out, blocking the two of us from moving forward. The three of us just stood there in front of the child, frozen, straining to figure out where the noise was coming from. The whole scene was so unsettling—a child hung just a few meters ahead of us on a tree branch about three meters high, like he’d lunged out into the air.

Suddenly, the child on the tree gave a slight twist, and that little movement nearly scared us out of our skins. Uncle Chen in particular stumbled back a few paces in shock.

But Gu Chen walked forward, slow and calm. He looked up at the struggling child, gazing at his face. There was still about a meter and two of space between them, with the child swinging gently overhead. Somehow this made the entire scene feel even stranger.

After a moment, Gu Chen spoke quietly. “Come here. This child should already be dead.”

Hearing Gu Chen say that finally put my mind a bit at ease. Still, I couldn’t help but wish the kid was alive. People are always torn like that, never fully sure what they want.

Gu Chen went on. “The fishing line has been cutting deeper into the branch, which changes the way the weight is held—that’s why the child started to move. The noise from before, that was probably the fishing line biting into the wood. Listen.”

We all went quiet, and sure enough, that creaking sound—’creak, creak’—was still there.

Gu Chen stepped out from under the child. “I’m going up to see how the fishing line is tied.”

I nodded and took Gu Chen’s place beneath the child. Looking up, I finally saw the boy’s face clearly. The first thing I noticed was how untouched it seemed—not a scratch. His eyes were shut tight, and because the sunlight couldn’t reach, I couldn’t make out many other details. Even so, there were faint spots of livor mortis showing on his face.

Livor mortis forms when the heart stops beating and blood stops flowing, so gravity causes the blood to settle in the lower parts of the body. The dark red, almost purplish marks begin to spread wide at first, eventually shrinking into smaller dots. That’s how you get livor mortis.

With the body hanging face-down like this, seeing livor mortis on the face was expected. If we pulled off his clothes right now, there would likely be similar marks on his chest and stomach. But I couldn’t confidently say exactly how long he’d been dead.

What really haunted me was the question: why did the killer arrange the body like this? Was the boy hanged here after he died, or was he already hanging—alive—when it happened? Either way, both scenarios were cruel. But the latter was far, far worse.

The child wore a white jacket and red capri pants. From the outside, I couldn’t see any wounds.

Gu Chen was already making his way up the tree. I glanced at the trunk next to him—the knots and branches made climbing pretty easy.

Now Gu Chen stood on the branch that held the child. He looked around and said, “There are strands of fishing line everywhere. Must be dozens of them.”

He suddenly stopped talking. From below, I could see his face tense up, his expression turning ashen like he’d just seen something horrifying.

Uncle Chen noticed too and called up, “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

Gu Chen shook his head, struggling to find the words. He looked down at us and said, “I can’t explain it. You should climb up and see for yourselves—it’s not hard.”

Whatever Gu Chen had seen, it must’ve been something serious. That thought alone made me start climbing. Just like he said, the tree was big but easy to scale; plenty of footholds and grips, like a natural ladder.

In no time, I reached the branch. It was thick and strong. Gu Chen grabbed another branch, making room for me near the trunk. Now I stood right next to the child. From below I hadn’t noticed any wounds, but from this angle, I was stunned. No wonder Gu Chen looked like that.

We already knew the boy had been strung up using fishing line, but the question was how. I’d guessed that maybe someone just wrapped the line around him and tied it to the branch—simple as that.

But seeing the child’s back, I realized how naive I’d been. I should’ve known—the killer had no compassion at all. No mercy.

Each fishing line was attached to a tiny hook. These hooks pierced right through the boy’s jacket, sinking deep into his flesh—just like the iron hooks you’d see at the market holding up cuts of pork.

The little boy looked more like a carcass on display than an actual person.

There were dozens of fishing lines—and just as many hooks. They were spaced out in neat symmetry across his back, legs, and arms, holding his body up like some kind of gruesome puppet.

His back was soaked with blood, stained a deep red, but from the ground there hadn’t been even a drop. That meant the killer cleaned up carefully, just like with Li Jun’s corpse. If we hadn’t climbed up, we’d never have guessed how brutal this death really was.

Given how much he’d bled, the wounds had to be inflicted while the boy was still alive.

What kind of hatred could drive someone to do something like this?

So—who was this child?

Gu Chen studied the fishing lines. “How should we take him down?”

I thought for a moment. “If we don’t want to damage the body, we can’t just pull him up. I’ll use my dagger to cut the fishing lines, and you catch him from below. Sound good?”

Gu Chen met my eyes, nodded, and then—with a quick motion—jumped down from the three-meter branch, which made my heart skip a beat.

He brushed the dirt off and called up, “Go ahead. I can catch him.”

I nodded back, pulled out my dagger, and quickly sliced through the fishing lines. If I hesitated, a stray line could tear the skin even more—that would be even worse for the corpse. Luckily, Gu Chen moved fast. The boy’s body dropped gently into his arms.

Uncle Chen helped Gu Chen lay the boy flat on the ground—still facedown. The fishing lines were cut, but the hooks were all still stuck in the boy’s flesh. I couldn’t pull off a leap like Gu Chen, so I climbed down the way I’d come.

As I was descending, I heard Uncle Chen mutter, “That’s just heartless. Doing that to a child… this killer really has no conscience at all.”

“Check his clothes. Maybe there’s a note inside,” I said with a sigh. “The killer must’ve left us another clue.”

Uncle Chen nodded and searched the boy’s jacket pocket. Before long, he found a slip of paper. “Got it,” he said.

“What does it say?” I asked.

Uncle Chen read the note. “Second mission: find the next one.”

“Find the next one?” Gu Chen frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shook my head. “No idea. But whatever this puzzle is, it won’t be impossible. Just like with Li Jun’s case, we’ll piece things together as we go. Right now, the priority is getting the body back to examine the time of death.”

Gu Chen nodded. “Right. Help me get him in the car. Let’s go.”

Uncle Chen responded with a quick ‘Alright’ and together with Gu Chen lifted the body into the car. Just then, I caught a glimpse beneath the boy’s neck—inside his white jacket. He was wearing a T-shirt underneath, and on its chest, I could just make out two characters I knew all too well.

“Wait!” I called out.

I quickly pulled aside the boy’s jacket.

What I saw made me frown deeply. By all rights, those two words should never have appeared here.

Gu Chen saw my face and asked, “What is it, something wrong?”

I glanced between Gu Chen and Uncle Chen. “Those words shouldn’t have shown up here. Why are they here again?”