Chapter 103

The screen went black, leaving only a single line of small text in the center: The livestream has ended.

Jiang Zhihuo handed the phone back to the girl. His fingers dug into the edge of the desk, and his forearm trembled slightly.

Yan Mu hadn’t said a word. There wasn’t a trace of expression on his face until Jiang Zhihuo turned to him, and he asked calmly, “Are you going?”

Jiang Zhihuo didn’t hesitate. “Mhm. Sorry, Yan-ge—help me ask for leave from the afternoon exam.”

Without waiting for Yan Mu to say anything, he bolted out of the classroom.

Outside the school gate, Jiang Zhihuo flagged down a taxi. “Five Star Plaza.”

“Five Star Plaza?” the driver said. “There’s been an accident over there. The road’s blocked, we can’t get in.”

“Then take me as close as you can,” Jiang Zhihuo urged. “Please hurry.”

The driver sighed. Seeing Jiang Zhihuo in the back seat, nonstop tapping at his phone, he figured it was just another person rushing to watch the spectacle. He shook his head and started the car.

With the road sealed off, Jiang Zhihuo ran the rest of the way. By the time he reached Five Star Plaza, the crowd had already been dispersed, but the scene was still a mess.

There were stark tire marks on the ground. The guardrails had been smashed to pieces, and faint traces of blood dotted the pavement.

—The van had barreled through recklessly, injuring several fans and security guards.

Fortunately, medical staff were on-site. The injured were taken to the hospital in time, and none were in life-threatening danger.

The production staff were speaking with the police.

“I don’t know what happened either. He just drove straight in all of a sudden. There were so many people that security didn’t have time to react. He’s definitely not with the production team. I don’t know who he is, or why he went after Yun Xiaoxu. If there’s anything you need to investigate, we’ll fully cooperate.”

“Alright.” After getting a general grasp of the situation, the police chief received intel from his subordinates—

The kidnapper was Dai Hongtian. He’d been sentenced to thirteen years for trafficking and extortion; due to good behavior in prison, his sentence was reduced, and he’d been released just half a month ago—

Back then, his trafficking target had been Yun Xiaoxu. After extorting a huge sum, Dai Hongtian went on the run, was later reported, and the report was confirmed, so he was imprisoned.

This kidnapping of Yun Xiaoxu might be an act of retaliation.

They were currently tracking the van; it was heading toward East Street.

The chief ordered his men to stay at the scene and question the staff one by one, while he got into a patrol car to give chase.

Just as he was about to start the engine, someone yanked the door open. The chief turned and saw a student still wearing No. 1 High School’s uniform.

“I’m going too,” Jiang Zhihuo said.

“How did you even get in here?” The van’s coordinates were being displayed in real time on the in-car screen. Racing forward, at this rate, it would be out of the city in less than half an hour.

The chief didn’t have time to deal with this student who’d forced his way in. “Don’t interfere with police work.”

“I’m not interfering. I have to go.” Jiang Zhihuo climbed in anyway, pulled a tablet from his bag, and started tapping at it without explanation. “Just keep driving.”

The chief: “…”

He didn’t have time to argue. Just as he was about to tell his men to drag the troublemaking student out, his phone rang again. He answered respectfully, “Captain Li.”

Li Hao asked over the phone, “Is there a No. 1 High School student at the scene?”

The chief startled. “Yes. He got in the car without permission and is obstructing official duties. I was just about to—”

Before he could finish, Li Hao said, “Follow his command.”

“Yes,” the chief replied automatically, then froze and finally processed it. “Huh? What?”

“Listen to him.” Li Hao had other matters to handle, and he hung up right after.

The call was loud and clear. Both the chief and the young officer driving wore the same blank look.

A vicious kidnapping case, and they were letting a student take charge?!

“Go.” Jiang Zhihuo didn’t explain further. He opened a map and repeatedly cross-checked the movement trail.

The chief was confused, but it was an order from above. He could only wave for his men to drive.

Several police cars sped through the streets with sirens blaring.

All the way, Jiang Zhihuo didn’t say a word. He kept comparing the activity trail, zooming the map in and out.

On the cover of the activity-tracking file was the suspect’s name:

—Dai Hongtian.

In the two weeks since his release, the place he went most often was a convenience store. On the first day out, he went to the train station, but was told his movements were restricted, and he wasn’t allowed to buy a ticket. Later, he settled in a corridor-style tenement in the old district, where rent was cheapest. Aside from that, he’d gone to a hardware store, an agricultural supply store, a warehouse on the outskirts, a car rental agency, and had used express courier service seven times.

Jiang Zhihuo circled every location Dai Hongtian had visited on the map.

The police cars tore forward, chasing the suspect vehicle closely. At one corner, they even pulled a drift.

The chief was on the phone with his subordinates, utterly unable to understand Dai Hongtian. Kidnappings were usually carried out in private; criminals wanted money, and victims’ families often didn’t call the police. Yet Dai Hongtian had done it right in front of a livestream camera: “What’s his motive?! Why kidnap someone in front of a livestream?! Doesn’t he want money?! Is he afraid people won’t know he kidnapped someone?!”

Pick U‘s livestream had at least eight million viewers. This man had snatched someone right under the entire nation’s eyes; it was a blatantly vicious incident. Now the internet was swarming with confusion about the kidnapping; the flood of commentary and accusations couldn’t be suppressed at all.

“That’s exactly the kind of person he is.” Jiang Zhihuo, who’d been silent in the back seat, suddenly spoke. “Extremely arrogant. Extremely selfish. His psychological ‘high’ isn’t like that of normal people. When ordinary people feel that kind of high, it might come from exercise, or writing, something that takes them into an excited state. But for Dai Hongtian, it’s simply about tormenting people. He’s not mentally ill, but there’s definitely something wrong with his brain. You can’t use normal thinking to predict his logic.”

Jiang Zhihuo circled another point on the map.

A week earlier, Dai Hongtian had gone to an internet cafe for a total of fifteen minutes. That day, he had 256 browsing records, 203 of them related to Yun Xiaoxu.

He connected several coordinates with lines, and his fingertip suddenly paused at the center of the screen.

He glanced in the direction they were heading.

They were going to the wrong place!

“Turn around, we’re chasing in the wrong direction.” Jiang Zhihuo opened the map. “Dai Hongtian’s final location is the tenement at 33 West Street! Turn around, now!”

The chief froze at Jiang Zhihuo’s words.

At that moment, the coordinates showed the target vehicle still heading toward East Street, opposite to what Jiang Zhihuo had indicated.

“Turn around,” Jiang Zhihuo repeated. “Li Hao just told you to follow my command, didn’t he? And we’re out of time, the optimal window to crack this is forty minutes.”

Dai Hongtian had kidnapped someone right in front of a livestream camera, triggering a huge public uproar and widespread panic. In reality, the authorities would have a hard time suppressing it; the only solution was to solve the kidnapping quickly before public trust collapsed.

So from the moment it happened to the moment it was resolved, they had at most forty minutes.

“…” The chief’s face showed open distrust, but his superior really had given the order. He could only grit his teeth, pick up the radio, and say, “Units 3 and 4, turn around with me, heading to 33 West Street. The rest, keep chasing.”

As the patrol car reversed course, the chief voiced his displeasure at the student who’d forced his way in. “Why are we turning back?”

“How did you even become chief?” Jiang Zhihuo frowned. He was sending someone a message, head lowered, fingers tapping, while explaining, “If all you do is rely on high-tech methods and never use your brain, you won’t climb anywhere. Dai Hongtian’s movement range is restricted; he can only operate in Lincheng and the nearby suburbs, so it’s unlikely he’s left the city. That narrows the target down to Lincheng. Behavioral trails can be used to build a psychological profile of a criminal, and the reverse works too: you can infer behavior from a profile.”

Within a given range of activity, a person leaves behind physical traces and psychological traces.

Physical traces are investigable evidence—things like surveillance footage and purchase records.

Psychological traces, on the other hand, require an experienced profiler to infer.

By using the psychological traces a criminal leaves behind to infer their behavioral range and direction, you can determine the overall investigative direction.

“In the two weeks since he got out, he’s been to eleven places. Aside from delivery couriers, he hasn’t contacted outsiders. Based on the profile built from his behavioral trail and the ten-year behavioral reports from prison, he’s not a desperate fugitive. He wouldn’t choose an unfamiliar place; he would inevitably pick somewhere he can monitor at any time, or reach quickly.”

Jiang Zhihuo finally finished sending the message. He showed the map on his tablet, connected the eleven locations with straight lines, and selected the central point equidistant from all eleven.

“Right here.”

At the center of the map: 33 West Street—a run-down tenement.

The chief was stunned. After a long silence, he asked, “Where did you get all this information?”

Whether it was the activity trail or the prison reports, there was no way a student could obtain them.

Jiang Zhihuo: “I’ve been involved in plenty of investigations. I’m bound to have some connections, right?”

Hearing that, the chief suddenly remembered something.

Li Hao’s team had once had an exceptionally capable intelligence officer, someone involved in many major investigations, but who had never shown his face.

Technology was advanced now, and a few cases were truly unsolvable, but relying on tech always had limits. For instance, you can’t just hack ordinary people’s home networks for no reason or monitor the public at large.

An intelligence officer was, in truth, an old-fashioned kind of role, and this staffing structure was rare these days. As long as someone could help a case, people didn’t overly care whether they showed their face; what mattered was whether they could bring value to the entire department.

Chief: “You’re that intelligence officer?!”

“Huh? What intelligence officer?” Jiang Zhihuo didn’t want to admit it; the label made him uncomfortable. “I’m just a regular student. I’ve only done some part-time work for your Captain Li.”

Just then, the radio crackled with an officer’s voice from the other cars chasing the van. “Boss! We’ve stopped the van! The driver isn’t Dai Hongtian! He says he was threatened, forced to keep driving toward the warehouse outside the city!”

At the same time, another team’s voice came through. “Boss, we’ve spotted Dai Hongtian in the West Street direction! Estimated coordinates have been sent!”

The estimated coordinates covered an area with a radius of about one hundred meters centered on West Street’s midpoint.

But Jiang Zhihuo had provided a precise point coordinate!

The chief lowered the radio, stared at the student in the back seat through the rearview mirror, and sucked in a sharp breath.

A behavioral prediction derived from psychological traces was actually faster than technological reconnaissance!

No wonder Captain Li had suddenly decided to cultivate an intelligence officer!

An outstanding intelligence officer could dramatically improve case-solving efficiency, especially in vicious kidnappings like this, where every second affected the victim’s survival and the direction of public opinion.

Five seconds later, he finally radioed the team. “Send people to 33 West Street immediately!”

“They’re already on the way!”

“Who?”

“He Miaomiao! She also took a bomb disposal unit with her!”

A  bomb disposal unit?!

The chief’s heart jolted. Just as the patrol car was about to reach the tenement, Jiang Zhihuo suddenly said, “Stop the car. Don’t go in.”

The chief asked, “Why?”

Jiang Zhihuo opened the armrest compartment and took out a foldable stun gun. He pressed the switch to test the charge; blue sparks linked the two electrodes, and a faint burnt smell drifted out.

“I told you—Dai Hongtian’s logic can’t be predicted with normal thinking,” Jiang Zhihuo said. “He went to an agricultural supply store, a hardware store, and the outskirts. We don’t know exactly what he bought, but his courier orders included charcoal, red phosphorus, glucose, and sulfur.”

“Twelve years ago, Dai Hongtian made a living producing saltpeter in a nitrate cave.”

Charcoal, sulfur, red phosphorus, glucose, and saltpeter—plus a mindset that can’t be understood through ordinary logic—

“As much as I hate to make this assumption, the probability that Dai Hongtian used these materials to make an improvised bomb is as high as ninety-two percent.”