Mystery Hunter

“What?” Chief Li Bu inquired, his voice filled with curiosity.

Lao Zhao pointed to a page in the file and explained, “This Jiang He has attempted the police recruitment exam for five consecutive years, yet he was rejected everytime.”

Chief Li Bu took the file, carefully examining its contents before expressing his disbelief, “He hasn’t passed the written exam in five years. What kind of prodigy is he?”

Shaking his head, Lao Zhao added, “Take a closer look; his written test scores are actually impressive, but he has always failed the mental evaluation. This psychological test doesn’t have right or wrong answers, yet it reveals a range of characteristics.”

The written personality test, regarded as the most widely used and authoritative in police recruitment examinations, employed a standardized format.

While the specific questions varied across cities, the test comprised a set of 566 questions, with 16 repeated inquiries.

This series of questions aimed to assess the mental state of the test taker. If the individual was of sound mind, understood the questions, and responded truthfully, they could pass the test. There were only two options for each question: “yes” or “no,” with the alternative of choosing not to answer.

Once the respondent completed the test, a qualified professional would evaluate their psychological condition. This assessment determined the person’s suitability for the position of civilian police inspector, ensuring that individuals with anti-human or anti-social tendencies were not selected.

The test results were classified into ten clinical scales and four efficacy scales.

In Jiang He’s case, his scores on the SC and SI scales consistently exceeded the standard during this evaluation.

In essence, Jiang He exhibited symptoms indicative of unsociability and emotional indifference, and strange behaviour.

Jiang He had no idea that such information lay concealed within his response. If Wang Chao or Xu Yiman were to see this file, they would understand the reason behind Jiang He’s behaved like an idiot in certain aspects.

“Complications of hyperemesis gravidarum?” Chief Li Bu inquired.

“The most accomplished doctors in the world are at a loss when it comes to determining the cause of this super memory disorder and finding a cure,” Mr. Zhao stated, closing the file. “For most individuals afflicted with this condition, it develops overnight. One day, they realize that they can remember everything up to a certain point in time, and the next day, they discover that they can gradually forget.”

Li Bu, the Chief, expressed a sense of helplessness, stating, “The world is so vibrant.”

Mr. Zhao reiterated, “Memories of hyperemesis gravidarum hold no value for the patients. Regular people remember things because they perceive them as significant. However, for those with hypermnesia, the importance of a memory holds no sway. They will remember their meals, drinks, trivial details, and even the deaths of their loved ones with crystal clarity.”

Showing apparent interest, Mr. Zhao continued, “Ultimately, it becomes excruciating. For instance, when encountering a case, if they feel a certain detail is crucial, they will recall that detail. Later on, they will remember that they had recalled that detail before, and subsequently, they will remember that they had remembered it previously.”

Li Bu Long shook his head in disbelief, muttering, “What a mess.”

“Just hearing me speak makes one feel dizzy, let alone the person truly affected by it,” Lao Zhao remarked with a smile.

“They become ensnared in a bewildering cycle, unable to differentiate between reality and the confines of their own memories.”

“Though I cannot ascertain whether these individuals possess brains different from ours, from a psychological perspective, they must also grapple with severe insomnia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and potentially even phobias, hysteria, and the like.”

“Perhaps now I understand why Jiang He is so fixated on the case,” Mr. Zhao solemnly declared.

“Why?” Chief Li Bu eagerly awaited Lao Zhao’s explanation.

“Because he cannot cease. He must pursue new knowledge and memories, or else he will fail to prove his true existence, instead remaining a mere fragment of consciousness trapped within illusory memories,” Lao Zhao explained slowly.

“You psychologists are truly entwined with philosophy.”

Li Bu Long stated, “But he is an eccentric individual. How does the thought process of an eccentric differ from that of normal people? If he becomes the next Wu Meng…”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Lao’s calm demeanor betrayed a tinge of sadness. “If I have erred once, I shall not make the same mistake again.”

“Do you truly intend to try?” Chief Li Bu refused to relent.

Lao Zhao nodded solemnly, his touch grazing his hair in a pensive manner. “Are there truly only 70 or 80 individuals in the world afflicted with super memory disorder? Is it genuinely such a rare occurrence, akin to finding a needle in a haystack?”

Chief Li Bu gently pressed his fist against Jiang He’s file, deep in thought. Zhao Lao’s explanation of super memory disorder had left Li Bu even more bewildered. Simultaneously, a curiosity surged within him, eager to catch a glimpse of this enigmatic figure known as Jiang He.

And what might Jiang He be doing at this very moment?

In the hushed glow of the moonlight, a small two-story Western-style building stood amidst the streets of Longcheng, its charm accentuated by the passing years. Such buildings adorned the entire street, lending Longcheng a distinctive allure. Its inhabitants comprised either long-standing residents of the city or affluent foreigners seeking solace within its confines.

Several years prior, Jiang He had inherited this two-story edifice, a modest structure bequeathed to him by a distant relative who had neither children nor spouse in their twilight years.

Jiang He could never erase the memory of his cousin grandmother’s final words as she lay on her deathbed; they had been etched indelibly into his mind. (Not that he could forget them)

On that day, with the gaze of countless neighbors upon them, his cousin grandmother grasped Jiang He’s hand with her trembling hand, her voice faltering yet resolute. “Grandson, your Grandma took you in when you were but six years old, nurturing and raising you until you blossomed into the person you are today.”

“For fifteen long years, your Grandma embraced you as her own grandson, yet you never once bestowed upon her a few loving words.”

“Now, your Grandma is plagued by a terminal illness, and you have attended to her needs,” his cousin grandmother chastised Jiang He. “But when you witness her writhing in agony, why do your eyes remain dry? Since your childhood, you have been acquainted with grief, and your heart is tender. Yet, whether I live or die holds no significance for you.”

With a tender touch, she brushed Jiang He’s eyelids, yet he did not even flinch.

Jiang He’s countenance remained devoid of emotion as he uttered, “Throughout life, one encounters the cycle of existence—youth, aging, sickness, and ultimately, death. Grandma, you are turning eighty this year, and it is only natural to face illness and the inevitability of departure during this stage of life. Grandma, the odds stand at 80% that you will pass before reaching the age of eighty-five. We have all anticipated this outcome, so I fail to understand the reason for why I should cry.”

Whispers circulated among the neighbors, branding Jiang He as an ungrateful wretch, a beneficiary who repaid kindness with indifference.

“So, my grandson, what shall you do once I depart?” Grandma clasped my hand tightly, her grip unyielding.

“I understand the necessity for clarity, to ensure your comprehension,” she began, her voice tinged with urgency.

“This house shall be yours once I draw my final breath.”

“It has two floors in total. You can live on the first floor by yourself and rent out the second. It may not make you rich, but it will keep you from poverty. Do you understand?”

Jiang He nodded, my understanding conveyed in silence.

With her last revelation imparted, Grandma departed from this mortal realm.

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Jiang He now owned the house.

Before, with Grandma around, Jiang He couldn’t act out of the ordinary. But after her death, no one could restrain Jiang He’s true nature. The neighbors frequently heard the sound of pigs crying from his house, day and night.

These neighbors had seen Jiang He grow up, so they knew what kind of person he was. However, they could tolerate his strange behavior once or twice, but not for an extended period.

Some neighbors politely raised the issue, but Jiang He pretended not to understand every time. And it seemed like his innocence wasn’t an act.

Eventually, one day, a big man couldn’t hold back anymore. He decided to speak frankly with Jiang He.

It was a beautiful morning, the sky clear.

Jiang He woke up with a pig in his arms.

Jiang He was mimicking the aftermath of a beating, where a person was tied up and couldn’t resist. He punched the pig repeatedly, tossing it around until both he and the pig grew tired and fell asleep on the bed.

When Jiang He woke up, he immediately climbed onto the pig. He examined its scars closely.

The big man went upstairs, intending to knock on Jiang He’s door. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, or rather, not locked at all. He entered the house and heard the pig crying again. He followed the sound into the bedroom and witnessed a scene he would never forget.

A man riding a sow.

The man was only wearing boxer shorts, while the sow was completely naked.

The big man was shocked to see Jiang He moving on top of the sow and didn’t dare to make a sound.

Quietly, he left Jiang He’s house, gently closing the bedroom door behind him.

Tears streamed down the big man’s face as he walked away.

Jiang He, a young man in his twenties, had never had a girlfriend.

Finally, the big man understood the reason for the pig’s continuous howling, whether it was a distortion of human nature or a decline in morals. It wasn’t that at all; it was a surge of hormones.

As a result, rumors about Jiang He and his interactions with pigs spread throughout the neighborhood.

However, recently, the neighbors were puzzled. They hadn’t heard any noise from Jiang He’s house in a few days. Even the girl living on the first floor said she hadn’t seen Jiang He for a while. Concern for Jiang He grew among the neighbors, fearing he was engaged in illegal activities and might’ve been arrested for raping someone else’s pig.

But then, as the neighbors were sleeping, they heard the familiar howls of the pig. They had grown accustomed to sleeping to the pig’s cries and waking up to its howls over the years. Not hearing those sounds for a few days made them feel uneasy.

At Least they could sleep better now.

And the downstairs resident girl couldn’t help but think to herself: Jiang He’s physical strength is impressive.

Just as Jiang He continued to use the pig to simulate the way he was injured, a woman climbed onto the roof in Longcheng.

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Hello, Translator here. I’m really sorry for irregular updates despite being free for most of the time. I promise to work hard for the next 10 days and mass release whole second arc (35 chapters).

Once again, Mr. Editor is busy so there might me some mistakes here, point them out and I’ll fix them.

I’m also planning on updating the website for easier navigation.

Thank you for reading.

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