Unable to Sleep

A section of Qinglongtou Road was cordoned off with police cars blocking both sides, and police tape stretched across the area.

"Sir, I'm the one who called the police. I was delivering goods this morning when I saw a taxi parked over there. When I got closer, I noticed someone lying on the ground."

Next to a seafood delivery truck, a weathered-looking fish vendor in his forties was giving his statement to two police officers.

"What time was that?" asked one of the female officers.

"I usually leave the market around four-thirty, and by the time I got here..." The middle-aged fish vendor scratched his head, then gestured with his fingers. "It was around five o'clock."

"Delivering goods this early?"

A plainclothes officer standing next to the female officer smirked skeptically. "The fish market isn't even open yet..."

"Officer, it's not early at all. I need to make runs to Tsuen Wan, New Territories, and even cross the harbor..." the middle-aged fish vendor quickly explained.

"Man Niu, if you don't know, just keep quiet," the female officer scolded the plainclothes officer beside her. She stopped taking notes and focused her gaze on the fish vendor, asking, "Did you see anyone else when you passed by?"

The fish vendor, feeling uneasy under the officer's stare, quickly shook his head. "No, ma'am. There's usually no one on this road so early in the morning. I swear, I'm the one who reported it..."

Buzz—

While the middle-aged man was speaking, the roar of an engine sounded. A Toyota sedan stopped in front of the police tape, and a well-dressed middle-aged man stepped out, accompanied by a curvaceous woman in the passenger seat.

"Wow, check her out! Looks like Li Sir has a new lady friend," the plainclothes officer named Man Niu exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration as he looked at the woman in the Toyota.

"Focus on your work!"

The female officer, also noticing the woman in the passenger seat, elbowed Man Niu angrily. She then jogged over to the well-dressed man.

"Ah Bo, what's the situation?"

The middle-aged man in the suit glanced around the scene before casually asking the approaching female officer.

"Li Sir, we've identified the deceased. His name is Lam Guoyu, a night-shift taxi driver. We found a 30-centimeter-long boning knife next to the taxi, but there were no wounds on the victim. The forensic team says he died from massive internal bleeding caused by broken ribs that punctured his heart and lungs, likely from a powerful impact," the officer called Ah Bo reported earnestly.

"An impact?" the middle-aged man asked nonchalantly.

"No, the forensic team said there were no signs of a vehicle collision. If it were a car accident, there'd be evidence. Also, it rained from last night until early morning, so we couldn't retrieve any fingerprints from the boning knife," Ah Bo explained, then seemed to remember something. "By the way, Li Sir, the media are here. Should we release a statement?"

"You want all the taxi drivers in Hong Kong to go on strike?" Li Sir shot her a glance. "Not yet. If necessary, just say the driver got out of the taxi and was hit by a passing car."

"So... are we not investigating this?" Ah Bo asked, somewhat confused.

"Of course, we are," Li Sir snapped. "This is clearly a murder case. Don't be foolish. Anyway, I'm leaving now."

"One more thing—"

Before leaving, Li Sir added, "Check for any witnesses nearby. From the estimated time of death, see if anyone saw anything along the road."

"Yes, Sir!" Ah Bo responded quickly.

"Wow, Li Sir is so cool," Man Niu remarked to Ah Bo as he watched the Toyota drive away, filled with envy.

"Get back to work!" Ah Bo threw her notepad at him in frustration.

"Hey! Just because Li Sir doesn't like you doesn't mean you should take it out on me!" Man Niu grumbled.

"You have no idea how impressive Li Sir was back in the day!"

Ah Bo shot Man Niu a glare, her chest heaving, still feeling annoyed.

"The Bloody Detective, right? Who doesn't know about him?" Man Niu muttered.

"Madam!"

Just then, a uniformed officer hurried over to them. "We just received a report from a family claiming their daughter was kidnapped by a taxi driver last night."

...

Not far from the Qinglong Pier, Longteng Street was lined with shops on both sides of the not-so-wide street.

Considering Hong Kong's population density, even though the area around Qinglongtou Pier wasn't exactly bustling, it still attracted a significant number of people due to its proximity to the pier.

In the morning, the street was at its busiest. There were loud sales pitches from small shops, the sound of metal being cut from hardware stores, and steam rising from food stalls.

On the sidewalks beneath various advertisement boards, well-dressed professionals mingled with laborers in vests and slippers carrying goods, as well as elderly people shuffling along with cardboard boxes in their arms.

The street was a hive of activity, filled with cars, taxis, and trucks honking their horns—a vibrant scene.

In a room on the third floor of a small hotel named "Zhongjie Hotel," located on the side of Longteng Street.

Snip, snip—

The sharp sound of scissors cutting through something could be heard intermittently.

After a while, the sound of cutting stopped, replaced by the splashing of running water.

Yang Chu scooped up some water to wash his face and hair. Standing in the narrow bathroom, he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

His face was gaunt, with high cheekbones and slightly sunken eyes that looked calm and indifferent.

His messy blonde hair had been trimmed down to a crew cut, and a dark red scar, still scabbed, ran across his forehead like a thick centipede.

His body was covered in multiple wounds. His chest was marked by numerous bruises, his ribs protruded, and his limbs were thin, with his abdomen sunken.

"This is me now," Yang Chu muttered.

He stared at the reflection in the mirror for a moment, then opened the bathroom door and stepped back into the room.

"...Yesterday, the Happy Valley Racecourse held its opening event. Jockey Moreira continued his winning streak at Happy Valley after winning the last race of the day with 'Good Omen'..."

A black-and-white TV in the corner of the room was playing news about yesterday's horse racing.

After leaving Qinglong Road, Yang Chu had spent 450 Hong Kong dollars to stay in this small hotel on Longteng Street.

The hotel room was only about seven or eight square meters. Maybe because of the small windows and the surrounding buildings, the room felt dim even at 10 a.m. without the lights on. The old building had poor ventilation, and the air was filled with a musty smell from years of dampness.

After exiting the bathroom, Yang Chu sat down on the bed and grabbed one of the plastic bags from the nightstand.

First, he took out a half-full bottle of "Wong To Yick" medicated oil from the bag and applied it to the bruised areas and the swollen bones on his body. Then, he took some gauze, dried the water from the wound on his head, applied some ointment, and wrapped it up with a few layers of gauze.

Finally, Yang Chu took out three boxed meals from another plastic bag on the nightstand.

Two char siu (barbecued pork) meals and one goose leg meal—all ordered through the hotel staff.

Yang Chu picked up a pair of disposable chopsticks, opened one of the boxes, and began eating quickly, but he chewed each bite thoroughly, almost like a machine processing food.

After finishing the first meal, he didn't start the second one immediately. He sat on the bed and closed his eyes.

Soon, a rumbling sound came from Yang Chu's stomach.

Yang Chu controlled his stomach and intestines to speed up the digestion and absorption of the food.

He couldn't yet control the breakdown and absorption of nutrients in the stomach and intestines, but like controlling his heartbeat, he had experimented earlier. By accelerating blood circulation and secreting more gastric juices, he could mix the food and stomach acids more effectively, speeding up digestion and absorption.

After about five or six minutes, Yang Chu opened his eyes again, picked up another box of food, and continued eating.

He repeated this process until he finished all three boxed meals in about twenty minutes.

He threw the empty meal boxes near the trash can beside the nightstand, which was already filled with various bread and milk packaging.

All these were what Yang Chu had eaten.

By now, Yang Chu had consumed enough food for several days for an average person.

The benefit of such a large intake of food and nutritional supplements was that Yang Chu's body recovered remarkably quickly.

Aside from torn ligaments and bone injuries that couldn't heal immediately, Yang Chu could already feel that his body no longer had that sluggish feeling of energy depletion.

After finishing the food, Yang Chu closed his eyes, relaxed his muscles, and lay flat on the bed, completely still.

When he wasn't moving, his brain didn't need to spend too much energy controlling the body's circulatory and respiratory systems.

With time, this repetitive and rhythmic task became second nature to his conscious mind, like a skilled worker becoming more proficient.

He could even manage other systems relatively easily, ensuring the body's internal operations remained stable.

At last, Yang Chu could afford abrief moment to contemplate his current predicament.

He had killed two people.

One was the thug in the warehouse, identified by his ID card as Chan Yiu-wai. Yang Chu had used Chan's ID card and the Hong Kong dollars left in his wallet to check into this hotel.

The other was the taxi driver, Lam Guoyu.

The former involved Yang Chu's new identity and whatever trouble it might have gotten into before he was "resurrected" in this body. After Chan Yiu-wai's death, the two other gang members who had been present at the scene fled. Yang Chu had no idea how things would unfold.

As for Lam Guoyu, the taxi driver, while he seemed to be a deranged psychopath who had kidnapped a passenger, Yang Chu's killing of him could be viewed as an act of vigilante justice.

However, if the police caught wind of it and it led to legal proceedings, it would bring a lot of trouble. Moreover, Yang Chu had no idea whether this body's previous owner had a criminal record or any other issues.

Staying at this hotel wasn't safe. It was likely only a matter of time before he was found. In many ways, he was already in a state of potential danger.

However—

Yang Chu didn't dwell too much on these matters.

He didn't have the luxury to think too far ahead, or rather, these were not his most pressing concerns at the moment.

Yang Chu was currently faced with a problem that constantly put his life on the line—he couldn't sleep.

Not even a brief nap.

With his body having lost its biological instincts and subconscious, all of his internal processes—circulation, respiration, digestion—and even basic external actions like walking and moving, all depended on his conscious control.

This allowed Yang Chu to control his heartbeat, enabling his body to unleash tremendous power and agility in short bursts. It also allowed him to control his digestive system for more efficient nutrient absorption.

However, this also meant that Yang Chu couldn't let his mind rest, even for a moment. He had to remain fully conscious at all times.

The moment he fell asleep and his conscious mind shut down, no longer maintaining the body's systems, his heart would stop beating, he would cease to breathe, and he would die once again.

Since regaining consciousness in this body, less than a day had passed, but his mind hadn't had a single moment of rest. It had been constantly exerting effort to keep everything running smoothly.

By now, Yang Chu could feel his mind starting to fatigue.

This was also one of the reasons why he needed to consume so much food.

The brain's functions continuously burn through a significant amount of energy.

While he could still keep himself awake, Yang Chu was acutely aware that he wouldn't last much longer like this.

If he didn't find a way to let his mind rest, his life would be on a countdown with each passing moment.

All it would take was a moment of lapse, a micro-sleep, and the outcome would be inevitable.

Unlike ordinary people who can continue to function in their sleep due to their subconscious maintaining bodily functions, Yang Chu had no such safety net. If he slipped into unconsciousness, there would be no subconscious pulse to jolt him awake; he would simply die.

"I need to find a solution, and fast."

Yang Chu opened his eyes and got up from the bed.

He needed to act quickly, while he still had the strength to hold on, to find a solution.

After hurriedly putting on his half-dried clothes that were hanging in the bathroom, Yang Chu opened the door and stepped out of the hotel room.