I See Murders Before They Happen

Chapter 12: Chapter 10: A Scene with a Changed Perspective

In a dark, cramped room.

A young man sat on the edge of a bed.

It was a standard bunk bed, with a long desk right beside it.

The young man’s eyes were vacant and lifeless.

In his hand, he held a blister pack of capsules.

He pushed the capsules out one by one.

Then he took another blister pack and, again, pushed them all out one by one.

Clutching a handful of capsules, he put them all in his mouth, then picked up the cup on the desk in front of him.

The clear cup seemed to be filled with beer, and he drank it all down.

After he finished drinking, he opened the laptop in front of him.

He typed out a message, bit by bit.

[Mom and Dad, I’m sorry. I’ve failed to repay you for all the years you’ve spent raising me, but I’m just so, so tired. I’m sick, and I tried to fight it. Taking medicine, going to therapy, telling myself every day to overcome all the physical symptoms. But it’s too strong. I can’t beat it. I really can’t beat it. I can’t become the outstanding child you wanted me to be. I can’t meet your standards. I’m not the good kid you hoped for. I’m just so, so tired. Please let me go. Just let me go. Don’t be sad for me. I’m just being set free, so you should be happy for me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...]

He typed the words, saved the file, and without closing the window, snapped the laptop shut.

Then he got up, found a rope under the bed, and tied one end to the frame of the top bunk. He made a slipknot on the other end and put it around his neck.

With a slight pull, the rope around his neck tightened.

The rope grew tighter and tighter. The sensation of suffocation washed over him, his face turning crimson from the lack of air.

The young man’s hands went to the rope at his neck, trying to loosen it.

But the knot was tied in a way that it only tightened the more he struggled. He was losing strength and couldn’t get it undone in the end.

In the end, his body was left half-hanging from the side of the bed...

「...」

”Su Miaoyi, Su Miaoyi, Su Miaoyi.”

Su Miaoyi snapped back to reality and looked at Zhuang Yanzheng.

It was Zhuang Yanzheng who had called her out of it again.

She glanced around, then back at the deceased on the autopsy table.

”What did you see this time?” Zhuang Yanzheng asked.

Her sudden dazed, vacant expression was the same as it had been in the interrogation room.

Su Miaoyi nodded.

This time, it wasn’t a vision from the deceased’s perspective.

Instead... she had been a third-person observer, witnessing the scene of his death and seeing his face as well.

That was why she hadn’t felt the agony of dying or any physical pain.

Yan Cheng stood to the side, watching the two of them.

He was observing Su Miaoyi’s reaction.

Su Miaoyi said, ”I saw the process of his suicide. He took a large dose of medication, most likely washed down with beer.”

Yan Cheng’s eyes twitched slightly.

In his calm, phoenix-like eyes, doubt flickered, but it was overshadowed by shock.

It was true. A large amount of psychiatric medication had been detected in the deceased’s system, along with alcohol.

The test results had come in just before the two of them arrived; even Zhuang Yanzheng didn’t know yet.

”After taking the drugs, he left a suicide note on his computer,” Su Miaoyi said. ”Then he used a rope to hang himself from the bed frame. The knot was special—it would tighten the more he struggled. He tried to untie it later but couldn’t.”

The suicide note on the computer, the location of the hanging, the special knot on the rope.

Zhuang Yanzheng had been to the scene.

He knew all these details, and they all matched.

He looked at Yan Cheng.

Yan Cheng met his gaze, still finding it all a bit incredible.

”There was a suicide note on his computer. Did you guys see it?” Su Miaoyi asked.

Zhuang Yanzheng nodded. ”The deceased’s parents don’t believe it. They think the note was forged. They were the ones who requested the autopsy to find the true cause of death.”

Their investigation of the scene had ruled out homicide.

But the parents couldn’t accept it; they didn’t believe their child would commit suicide.

”The final cause of death was still asphyxiation, right?” Su Miaoyi said. ”From the vision I saw, his facial expression and physical signs were all consistent with suffocation.”

Zhuang Yanzheng looked at Yan Cheng again.

Yan Cheng nodded.

Although he had taken an overdose of medication and had also been drinking,

the cause of death was asphyxiation.

”A believer now?” Zhuang Yanzheng asked Yan Cheng.

Yan Cheng didn’t speak.

He found it hard to accept what was happening before his eyes.

’How could someone see the entire crime unfold without being at the scene?’

Zhuang Yanzheng stood beside Su Miaoyi, glanced at her, and after a two-second hesitation, finally asked, ”Not feeling faint from the blood anymore?”

”Huh?” Su Miaoyi grunted, confused at first.

Then, the blood on the autopsy table registered in her eyes, and her legs gave out, causing her to suddenly drop to her knees.

Zhuang Yanzheng caught her by the arm, hauling her back to her feet with brute strength.

He could clearly feel her trembling.

And her forehead was instantly beaded with sweat.

The temperature in the autopsy room was so low, yet she was sweating.

Su Miaoyi gagged.

Zhuang Yanzheng helped her out of the room.

Yan Cheng brought a stool out and set it down.

Zhuang Yanzheng helped Su Miaoyi sit down.

”Take her mask off for her,” Yan Cheng said.

Zhuang Yanzheng looked at him. ”Me?”

Yan Cheng held up his hands, his gloves stained with blood. ”Should I do it?”

Su Miaoyi raised her own hand, took off her mask, and gasped for air.

”She can take it off herself,” Zhuang Yanzheng said.

”I see that,” Yan Cheng replied.

Su Miaoyi: ”...”

”Feeling any better?” Yan Cheng asked.

Su Miaoyi: ”Yeah.”

”If it’s serious, you can take some Benadryl or Diazepam,” Yan Cheng said.

”Mhm,” Su Miaoyi said. ”Much better.”

Zhuang Yanzheng watched Su Miaoyi.

’This fear of blood doesn’t seem fake, either. It’s like she’s two different people. One is afraid, and the other isn’t. One has a fear of blood, and the other doesn’t.’

”Why did the hospital diagnose her with schizophrenia? Don’t her symptoms seem more like dissociative identity disorder?” Zhuang Yanzheng asked Yan Cheng with his arms crossed. ”No matter how you look at it... it’s like she has two personalities.”

Su Miaoyi, sitting on the stool, looked up at the two men in front of her.

They felt like two walls standing before her.

”I’m a forensic examiner, not a psychiatrist,” Yan Cheng said, standing ramrod straight with his hands at his sides. He gave off a meticulous, formal air, unlike Zhuang Yanzheng, who just by standing there looked solid and radiated a roguish aura. ”However, with dissociative identity disorder, there are memory gaps. The memories between alters aren’t shared. She doesn’t seem to have memory gaps.”

Su Miaoyi listened to their conversation.

It was true that her memory had no gaps.

She remembered every single ridiculous thing that had happened.

”Is it really okay to talk about me like this right in front of my face?” Su Miaoyi said.

Both men looked at her.

”No,” Zhuang Yanzheng said. ”But it’s already been said. Just deal with it.”

Yan Cheng glanced at him.

The corner of Su Miaoyi’s mouth twitched. She had never met someone so unreasonable and domineering.

After a moment, she said, ”I need to use the restroom.”

Yan Cheng said, ”Go straight to the end of the hall and turn left.”

Su Miaoyi stood up.

Zhuang Yanzheng asked, ”Still dizzy?”

”I’m fine now,” Su Miaoyi said.

Zhuang Yanzheng nodded.

Su Miaoyi went to the restroom.

The two men watched her retreating figure.

They watched until she disappeared at the end of the hallway.

Yan Cheng said, ”You also think she and Le Yan... Even her name...”

Zhuang Yanzheng’s brow furrowed. ”Le Yan is Le Yan. She is her own person.”

Yan Cheng nodded, then paused before saying, ”Let’s notify the family to claim the body.”

”Fine.” Zhuang Yanzheng sighed. ”So young... why throw your life away?”

”He was sick,” Yan Cheng said. ”For him, this was a release.”

Zhuang Yanzheng glanced toward the autopsy room, then took a piece of candy from his pocket and tossed it into his mouth. ”I don’t get it. It’s still better to be alive. As long as you’re alive, there’s always hope.”

Yan Cheng said nothing.