Apocalyptic Era: Starting from picking up a Bishoujo

In response to my question, the police nodded slightly, but verbally adopted a conservative statement, "At least the current clues point in that direction."

No wonder this police officer, who was involved in the cases relating to Mazao, was here.

If we were to accept the policeman's testimony in full, then Mazao would be both the serial killer who appeared in the last two or three months and the murderer of the previous tenant eight months ago.

According to Mazao's own testimony, however, she claimed to have accidentally traveled from the Doomsday Era to the present just yesterday, which also served as her alibi.

It wasn't impossible to construct a line of reasoning that allowed these two seemingly contradictory statements to coexist, but I won't delve into the details here, and besides, that would still require complete faith in Mazao's words.

I must admit, I did indeed harbor some desire for chaos, longing for a doomsday that could shatter all existing orders.

I'm not suggesting I wished for "the destruction of human civilization" as an "outcome"; what I truly desired was to be part of the process where everything around me collides with a potential doomsday calamity, and to involve myself in that upheaval. During that tumultuous process, I might be scared witless, laughing at my naive thoughts now, or I might discover different aspects of myself.

Yet from a rational perspective, I still harbored doubts about the future Mazao described; in other words, the possibility that she could be a serial killer still lingered in my mind.

Not to mention, the police even had a photograph of Mazao in their possession.

It was a proper headshot, not a snapshot accidentally taken on the street. Such photographs are generally not taken without a specific need, which further reduced the credibility of Mazao's claim that she had only traveled to this era yesterday.

Mazao certainly didn't seem like someone who would go on a killing spree without restraint, but if everything could be judged by a vague impression, what need would there be for reasoning or evidence?

"Can we leave now?" Changan, upon learning that the murderer was still committing crimes in the city, couldn't wait to leave.

"Don't leave just yet, we need to take your statement."

The police put on an official air and led us to the pavilion in the residential area.

"Don't we need to go to the station to give our statements?" Changan asked.

"No need," the police replied briefly.

Seeing Changan's puzzlement, I added, "We're not suspects; we don't have to be in an interrogation room. It's fine to take statements outside."

Having caused trouble here and there in the past, Changan had seen the police a few times, yet his knowledge in that regard had made no progress, even less than mine, who always followed laws and regulations.

Although my title of someone who "always follows laws and regulations" had taken on a humorous feel now.

The police asked casually, "You sure know a lot, have you given statements before?"

"Just read a lot of novels," I answered.

The police sat down in the pavilion, took out paper, a pen, and recording equipment, then looked at me and said, "Since that's the case, let's start with you."

Sitting across from him, I tried to appear calm, but internally I felt uneasy.

It wasn't just guilt, I also had a real gun hidden in my backpack. Now, the gun felt as if it were burning hot, searing through the fabric and onto my back.

The statement was just a series of simple questions and answers, and after all, he couldn't ask me anything too complex. I wasn't the tenant of the fifteenth-floor room, and the main person he would inquire from was Changan.

In the midst of this, I weaved in a question, "The 'Magic Array' in that apartment was left by the murderer eight months ago, wasn't it? Didn't the police who gathered evidence at the scene back then detect it?"

The Magic Array concealed under the carpet—if ordinary tenants couldn't find it quickly that was one thing, but it would be inexplicable if the police, tasked with investigating the crime scene, hadn't found it.

From this policeman's demeanor, it seemed that they only became aware of the Magic Array's existence today, eight months later.

There must be some important clue hidden here that I had yet to grasp.

"That's something you would have to ask the person responsible for that work," said the police, playing it coy at first, then added, "Also, don't interrupt, I'm the one asking the questions now."

As expected, I couldn't get an answer that easily. After all, I was just a common citizen, and he had no reason to disclose any case-related clues to me.

I could only agree verbally, then changed the subject, trying to indirectly inquire about Mazao.

Last time, the police had directly referred to Mazao as a "serial killer." However, procedurally speaking, without any trial, even if there's substantial evidence of the suspect's guilt, they can only be referred to as a "suspect," not as a "criminal."

Of course, that's strictly procedural talk. In an informal conversation, calling a suspect with concrete evidence a criminal wouldn't make anyone grumble.

What I wanted to know was whether the official forces had already obtained solid evidence of Mazao committing murder.

Yet the police in front of me remained tight-lipped about the case, and I couldn't extract any useful information.

Soon, the police concluded their inquiry of me, then turned to glance at Changan and said to me, "I have something to ask him alone next; you can leave now."

"Huh?" Changan was puzzled.

I vaguely guessed what the police were about to tell Changan.

"I understand," I said as I stood up, then spoke to Changan, "So, I'll wait for you outside the community first."

-

Though I had verbally agreed to leave, there was no way I would be so honest.

When I left, I secretly placed a "Firefly" next to the pavilion to covertly observe the entire process of the police taking Changan's statement.

The conversation proceeded as expected; Changan insisted he really encountered a strange event in the room on the fifteenth floor but could never provide evidence to prove his experience. And most of the questions asked by the police were common sense.

But did the official forces really know nothing about those "beyond common sense" existences? In this world, there were supernatural power users like me and strange things like the basement on the fifteenth floor. Even though many extraordinary secrets were unknown to the public, the official forces should be aware of them.

Moreover, the public's ignorance of the existence of strange things in itself might be proof enough that there's an "invisible hand" preventing information related to strange things from flowing into the public. And to execute information control to such an extent, there must be a large and hidden organization in the background.

The question was, why did the official forces want to control information? Were they worried that the existence of strange things would cause public panic? Such a reason was hardly convincing.

Or could it be that there were strange things that spread harm through human cognition, and hence the official forces had to take such drastic measures?

Of course, there was another possibility, although I thought it unlikely: Could it be that things that went beyond common sense, like me and the basement on the fifteenth floor, were so rare that they remained unknown?

"Excuse me, officer, why do you want to communicate with me alone?" Changan finally couldn't resist asking, "Is there something you can't let my friend know about?"

The police officer seemed not to have noticed the "Firefly" I had secretly set up. Under my gaze, he replied, "Sort of, but mainly it's to warn you."

"Warn?" Changan didn't understand.

"The serial killer has taken the lives of five victims in the past two or three months, whose common characteristics are wealth and status. Either affluent entrepreneurs or high-ranking officials. Although you are neither an entrepreneur nor an official, you also come from an extraordinary family background, so…"

I had already found out about this through the news, but Changan was completely unaware, showing a horrified expression, "You think I might become the next victim?"

"It's not that I'm ruling out the possibility, and we will send someone to discreetly protect you afterward," the police officer assured with a firm tone.

Changan panicked, then suddenly displayed quick thinking, noticing a blind spot, "Wait, that's not right. Was my predecessor tenant also what you described as wealthy or high-ranking?"

The apartment on the fifteenth floor was just in an ordinary residential community, and according to my previous investigation, the previous tenant indeed didn't have a wealthy or high-ranking background.

"No, he was just an ordinary employee at a company and also the only exception in this series of events. We are still investigating the potential connection between him and the other victims," the police officer shook his head and then cautioned, "Even so, you must not let down your guard. Haven't your parents or elders mentioned the recent turmoil to you?"

Upon hearing this, Changan's expression grew dark, "Well…"

Perhaps others weren't so clear, but I knew that things at Changan's home were far from pleasant.

Although the police officer was unaware of the details, seeing Changan's reaction, he skipped over the topic and continued, "In any case, be vigilant, stay away from deserted places, and beware of suspicious people. Especially if you encounter traces of large beasts, you must not linger."

"Large beasts?" Changan cautiously asked.

"The previous five victims, as well as the prior tenant of that apartment, their bodies had numerous tears and bite marks, and beast hairs were found at the scene," the police officer revealed previously unmentioned clues in front of Changan, "Although there are no escaped predators from the Saltwater City Zoo, and no sightings or surveillance footage of predators in the city have surfaced, it's always good to be extra cautious."

Tears and bite marks… So the victims' cause of death was indeed not from shootings?

But according to his previous statement, the serial killer was supposed to be a rebellious girl who happened upon a handgun, using its power to wreak havoc.

I recalled the first time I met Mazao; she was wearing a hospital gown with many severe tears, leading me to believe that they were caused by an armed assailant. But if I had said that these were the results of an animal attack, it seemed more fitting.

Does that mean Mazao was a victim, that she had encountered the serial killer, and was gravely injured by some means? But then, how to explain that underneath the appearance of being bloodied Mazao was unscathed?

Why was Mazao being accused of being the murderer instead?

"That's all for now; remember to communicate with the landlord later to cancel the lease on that apartment. Also, hand over the keys to the place; we still need to secure the scene."

"Oh, okay." Changan took out the keys and handed them over.

"My colleague will call you later to make contact, and I have other important work to do, so I will take my leave now."

After speaking, the police officer packed up the paper and recording tools and stood up to leave.

I was somewhat puzzled. If they were planning to protect Changan, shouldn't they take him to the station or another safe place first and then let his colleague come over? What if the killer attacked during the gap?

The deeper I thought about it, the more the police officer's behavior perplexed me.

I couldn't help but doubt—was he really a police officer?

I maneuvered the "Firefly" and began to follow this mature-looking man.