At that moment, Old Zhang pulled the damaged stun baton out of his bag. We both froze in shock — the baton had been sliced cleanly in half, right down the middle. Even the battery was split perfectly into two pieces.
Not even the factory's laser cutters could make such a clean cut. What kind of blade could be that fast? And even if such a blade existed, without extraordinary skill, no one could pull off a cut like that.
Suddenly, I wondered: could the mysterious person Old Zhang encountered be the same white shadow who took revenge on my behalf?
Old Zhang patted his chest and said, "My copper button was sliced in half the same way. Lucky for me, the cut was just a bit off, or it would've hit my throat."
I gave a bitter smile. "He spared you on purpose. If he wields such masterful blade skills, which is easier — slicing your button or your throat? Hitting your button means he can take your life anytime. It's a silent threat."
Huang Xiaotao slammed her fist on the table angrily. "How dare he attack a police officer? I'm going to catch this guy for sure!"
Old Zhang turned pale at my words. I asked, "Did he leave anything behind at the scene?"
He shook his head. "I checked afterward. Nothing valuable was missing from the place."
I thought maybe he was looking for something else. Wang Dali interrupted, "Does this person have any connection to the missing woman?"
...
I nodded slowly. "Could be. Zhang, what was the missing woman's name?"
"Xu Xiaohui," Old Zhang replied.
Huang Xiaotao asked if he remembered the woman's appearance. Old Zhang said if he saw her again, he could recognize her. Huang Xiaotao then called a police officer to take him to the forensics department to do a sketch. After Old Zhang left, we examined the broken stun baton again, still baffled.
I didn't tell Huang Xiaotao about what happened at school — I had a vague feeling this person was somehow connected to me. Since he spared Old Zhang, maybe he wasn't a villain after all.
A while later, Xiao Zhou called from outside, "Sister Huang, come quick! You'll definitely recognize this person!"
We went to the forensics room, where a computer-generated face appeared on the screen. Everyone looked familiar — wasn't this actor Zhang Yixing? Wang Dali exclaimed, "Turns out Zhang Yixing isn't just an actor — he's a secret hero too!"
Old Zhang scratched his face awkwardly. "I remember him looking like this."
It turned out the suspect just resembled Zhang Yixing, and Old Zhang got mixed up, so the system produced a celebrity's face.
We put the matter aside for now — Huang Xiaotao had several cases to handle and no energy to hunt down a lone vigilante.
At the time, we all thought Xu Xiaohui's disappearance was a routine case. Little did we know, it would spiral into one of the strangest cases I ever encountered — not complex, but certainly among the top three most bizarre I've helped solve!
A few mornings later, a scream shattered the quiet at Ronghua Meat Processing Plant in Nanjiang City. Huang Xiaotao received the call and immediately notified me. We rushed there together.
As soon as we stepped into the factory yard, a strong stench of blood and rotting entrails hit us. A butcher in his forties wearing a leather apron approached. He said he was the caller — Old Li. The terrifying incident at five a.m. had driven one of his coworkers insane.
I asked what happened. Old Li swallowed hard and said, "The pig... the pig actually spoke human words!"
The night before, they were working the graveyard shift. At four a.m., a truckload of pigs arrived. After unloading, they were washed and taken into the slaughterhouse.
Some places use electric shocks to kill pigs, but the meat quality is poor that way. So here, they slaughter by hand.
They use a long spear to stab the pig's neck once. The pig struggles for a few minutes, bleeds out, then is sent to the main processing line.
The main workshop is a fully automated assembly line — no need to touch the carcass by hand. Old Li and his coworker Xiao Sheng were responsible for hanging the pigs on iron hooks. Xiao Sheng was just over twenty, new to the job, inexperienced, so Old Li was training him.
Like usual, they cut the pig's hind leg joint and hung it upside down. But when Xiao Sheng cut open one pig's leg, he noticed something unusual and asked if the pig was sick.
Old Li said no — the pigs had all passed blood and urine tests before arriving. The leg probably had an old injury.
They continued working. After hanging the pig by head and feet, it suddenly opened its eyes. Xiao Sheng jumped back.
Old Li tried to calm him: "It's normal for pigs not to be completely dead."
But Xiao Sheng said the pig looked like it was crying!
Old Li checked — yes, tears were flowing. Pigs have tear glands but rarely use them to express sadness like humans do. This pig was crying, moving its mouth, making strange noises, and its front legs twitched — like it was trying to write.
At that moment, the assembly line started moving. The pig twisted violently, letting out low growls.
Xiao Sheng screamed, "It's talking! It said it's a human! Stop the line! Stop the line!"
The line was fully automatic. The pig was about to enter the scalding tank — boiling water at 100 degrees Celsius — then get scrubbed with steel brushes, and finally cut in half by an electric saw.
When Xiao Sheng saw its entrails, he screamed again, dropping to his knees and wailing.
Old Li saw things had gone wrong and quickly pulled the main power switch — something that could seriously damage the line, used only in emergencies.
When he reached the scalding tank, he noticed some of the entrails looked strange. Xiao Sheng babbled, "It's a person! We killed a person! We're murderers! Help!"
We all stood there stunned. Wang Dali's mouth was agape, unable to close it for a long time.
In the silence, laughter erupted from the workshop: "Humans become pigs, pigs become humans. We're all guilty, all to be punished!"
Old Li looked embarrassed. "That was Xiao Sheng."
I asked, "Are you sure that pig was a person?"
Old Li thought for a moment. "Not 100% sure. But I've slaughtered pigs for over 20 years. That was definitely not a pig."
I immediately waved my hand. "Let's go check it out!"
Passing the slaughterhouse, we saw several freshly dead pigs in the concrete pen. The floor was layered with thick, congealed blood crusts. The pungent metallic stench of blood was overwhelming — more gruesome than the most brutal murder scenes. Only those with strong mental fortitude could handle this line of work.
I asked Old Li, "What tools do you use to kill pigs?"
Old Li picked up a long metal spear leaning against the wall. The tip was wrapped with non-slip cloth, resembling a spear. He explained, "You stab the neck with this — it's the pig's vital spot. One jab, and it's dead."
I asked, "Was the butcher who killed the pigs last night experienced?"
Old Li nodded. "An old hand, very experienced. Usually, there's no pig that can survive the kill."