The bodies of the Levi Bower family have not yet been cremated and are still placed in the morgue of the Old Port District’s sub-police station.
Because they were equipped with quite basic yet functional cold storage boxes, the four bodies showed no signs of decay but had all undergone forensic autopsy.
Ronan, accompanied by the forensic pathologist from the sub-police station, checked these bodies.
As described in the case files, the murderer was a seasoned pro, the killings were extrely clean and swift, leaving no useful clues for tracking.
Levi Bower himself was the most horrific, suffering over a hundred knife wounds, each avoiding a fatal point.
Bled to death alive!
After viewing the bodies, Ronan, with Detective Kash, first returned to his ho in the East City District.
Then he brought Hei along and returned to the cri scene once more.
Detective Kash was very puzzled, not understanding why Ronan had to go across half the city just to bring his big house cat over.
What happened next left this detective dumbfounded.
Hei road around the apartnt, sniffing east and west, and then gave two "ows" to Ronan.
"Found it."
Ronan said to Detective Kash, "Fortunately, not much ti has passed; the killer’s scent hasn’t completely dissipated yet."
Detective Kash was hardly believing: "Officer Ronan, are you saying this cat can sniff out the killer’s scent?"
Ronan nodded: "Of course."
Hei has the Body of a Mountain Cat and the Soul of a Spiritual Cat, and under his ticulous training, not only has it gained substantial combat strength, but its various attributes have also significantly improved.
The sense of sll of a mountain cat is naturally extrely keen, and after enhancent, it’s beyond extraordinary.
Sniffing out the killer’s scent at the cri scene is very normal.
Moreover, it can communicate ntally with Ronan, clearly understanding what it needs to do, unperturbed by wild instincts.
The big cat leaped onto the windowsill and turned its head to give Ronan two more calls.
"The killer entered through the window."
Ronan explained: "I’ll go take a look outside."
Without waiting for Detective Kash’s response, he leaped out of the window.
Detective Kash’s eyes almost bulged out.
Because this was the fifth floor!
He rushed to the windowsill, looking nervously down below.
Ronan was standing steadily in the alley behind the apartnt building, unhard, waving his hand at him.
The nearly heart-attacked Detective Kash sighed in relief, quickly turning to run downstairs.
When he got to the back alley, he saw Hei sniffing around at the alleyway entrance.
"Go!"
Hei darted forward.
Detective Kash hurriedly caught up with Ronan.
The big cat led the chase, while the two followed behind; it even paused occasionally to wait.
This way, they passed through streets and alleys, and after about half an hour of tracking, Hei stopped in front of a tailor shop, crouching and lifting its head.
Its pupils narrowed, intensely focusing on the old tailor inside the clothing store.
This tailor shop was in an ordinary small street, not in a great location, with hardly any custors inside.
The old tailor was already white-haired; he wore an apron and a tape asure, cautiously organizing the clothes on the rack, his figure hunched as if burdened by the weight of years.
Similar small shops struggling to survive on craft like this one in Seles are everywhere, showing no unusualness.
The focused old tailor hadn’t even noticed the arrival of Ronan and others.
Ronan picked up the bristled Hei and stepped into the "Walkerley" clothing store.
Detective Kash hesitated.
He didn’t follow in, opting instead to remain alert outside, subtly placing his hand on his gun.
About then, the old tailor seed to sense sothing, turning around to see Ronan holding the big cat; he revealed a slightly fawning smile: "Good afternoon, sir, how can I assist you?"
Ronan wasn’t wearing his uniform today, just simple civilian clothes.
He smiled: "Your clothes look very nice."
"Naturally."
The old tailor replied with pride: "I’ve been running this tailor shop in Seles for forty-seven years; each garnt here is tailored and sewn by , top quality assured."
Speaking of his craft, his eyes lit up, their forr murkiness turning bright.
"Forty-seven years."
Ronan nodded: "That’s not easy, so why did you kill the Levi Bower family?"
"Huh?"
The old tailor was dumbfounded: "Sir, what are you talking about? Who is Levi Bower?"
"Impressive."
Ronan placed Hei on a nearby counter, clapping his hands with a smile: "Your acting is good, you should be a ntor at the Art University, hiding here to make clothes is a waste of your talent."
The old tailor frowned, looking angry yet restrained: "Sir, I don’t know what you’re saying; if you’re not here to buy clothes, then please leave here!"
"Walkerley, you’re being arrested by for murdering the Levi Bower family."
Ronan presented his badge: "You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say..."
Before Ronan could finish, a cruel glint flashed in the old tailor’s eyes.
He flicked his wrist, a sewing knife slid silently from his sleeve into his grasp.
In the next mont, the bright blade swiftly struck toward Ronan’s throat with lightning speed.
This strike was all about speed, precision, and ruthlessness, sprung with imnse force; the blade broke through the air silently, about to pierce Ronan’s vital point in an instant.
However, Ronan seed prepared, gripping the blade just as the tip was about to hit his throat.
The old tailor’s expression changed dramatically!
This strike carried all his strength, and the sewing knife in his hand was a specially made close-combat weapon, with transcendental attributes, easily penetrable through steel.
And the blade’s sharp edge was unrivaled.
Yet Ronan held the blade with bare hands, using his flesh to stop the edge, preventing further penetration by a milliter.
How strong was this young officer?
Words couldn’t describe the horror in the old tailor’s mind.
But being an experienced pro, realizing Ronan’s strength, he imdiately let go of the weapon.
The whole person swiftly flew back out.
If unable to fight, flee. A true assassin never confronts formidable foes head-on!
Bang! Bang!
Just as the old tailor backed four or five steps, a crisp gunshot suddenly echoed.
Bright blood sprayed from both his knees!
"Ah!"
A piercing scream reverberated through the shop, filled with indescribable pain and despair.
The old tailor fell to the ground, grasping at his legs, rolling side to side!
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First update presented.
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