Chapter 109: The Scholar’s Revenge

A few ants marched steadily along the road. Though their pace was fast for ants, it was still painfully slow compared to ours. Especially when crossing the street, we were on edge—if a tire ran over them, all our efforts would be wasted.

Ants don't understand traffic lights. To protect them, we must have broken every traffic rule possible—stopping cars abruptly, blocking intersections—and the traffic cops stopped us multiple times. Luckily, Huang Xiaotao flashed her detective badge and explained we were on a case.

Thankfully, the roads were mostly empty at night. The ants crawled on for three grueling hours until we finally reached a residential building. Huang Xiaotao pointed excitedly at a car, "Look, that's the one from last night!"

Sure enough, it was the black SUV—but the license plate had been removed. The rear bumper showed no bullet marks. I ran my hand over it and realized the culprit had repaired it himself. Pretty skilled, I thought.

We followed the ants all the way to an apartment building. It was already 3 a.m. By now, "checking the water meter" wouldn't work: the door opened outward, so kicking it wouldn't budge it, and picking the lock risked noise.

I suggested, "Let's fight fire with fire."

"How?" Huang Xiaotao asked.

I tore off a few electricity and water bills from the wall, grabbed a lighter from Wang Yuanchao, and lit them on fire. Then I told Wang Dali to start shouting. He caught on immediately and yelled, "Fire! Fire!"

The neighbors rushed out, ready to scold. Huang Xiaotao flashed her badge and motioned them to be quiet. They stayed on the stairs, watching curiously. One old lady whispered, "Officer, what crime does this household commit?"

Huang Xiaotao answered seriously, "That's confidential police business."

One elderly woman broke the silence, "I've suspected this guy for a while. Since he moved in six months ago, he's been a recluse, never greeting neighbors. Definitely not a decent man."

I asked, "Do you know his name?"

Another old lady raised her hand, "I collect the utility fees for this building. The tenant's name is Jin Baoshan."

Our eyes widened. It was him. At that moment, the door creaked open, and Jin Baoshan's face appeared in the gap. Seeing the crowd, he tried to slam the door shut, but Wang Yuanchao quickly blocked it with his foot.

Jin Baoshan spun around, ready to leap out the window in a desperate escape. But Wang Yuanchao, a true master, tackled him onto the sofa.

Huang Xiaotao folded her arms and said, "Jin Baoshan, running won't help. Guilty conscience?"

"I know why you're here. Last night, I went to the crime scene. I was just passing by to see my old house. Nothing else. I didn't expect you to shoot at me, that's why I ran," Jin Baoshan said, trembling.

Huang Xiaotao sneered, "Cut the act. Confess honestly to the murder charges."

Jin Baoshan looked confused, "Murder charges? I don't know what you're talking about."

I asked, "Where did the South African bullet ants come from?"

Jin Baoshan's face paled. I caught his microexpression with my 'Ghost-Eye Vision'—no doubt, he was the murderer. Suddenly, he laughed, "Impressive. You figured it out so quickly. I underestimated you."

"Confess!" Huang Xiaotao ordered.

"Please, take your hands off me. This is unbearable," Jin Baoshan complained.

Huang Xiaotao signaled Wang Yuanchao, who immediately loosened his grip.

Jin Baoshan stood up, dusted off his clothes, and casually sat down, lighting a cigarette. Suspects tend to become more relaxed when confessing; it's their only moment to let their guard down.

He exhaled smoke slowly and recounted everything. Five years ago, he worked at a small publishing house in a town and had saved enough to buy a house. But at night, strange noises echoed from it. He and his wife dared not live there, nor could they rent it out. People said it was a haunted house, though no murder had ever occurred there.

The house became a burden. Then his wife fell seriously ill. To pay for her treatment, he had no choice but to sell the house. At that time, an uncle-nephew duo came, claiming to be 'haunted house testers' who could cleanse haunted properties. Jin Baoshan hired them eagerly.

But after moving in, they shook their heads, saying the house was too haunted. They insisted on buying it cheaply as an investment plot.

The offer was low, but Jin Baoshan, desperate for money, accepted.

The sum wasn't enough to pay for his wife's surgery, and she passed away.

Broken and drunk one night in a bar, Jin Baoshan ran into the same uncle-nephew pair, both drunk and bragging about their "big score." They spoke of a house with strange noises caused by a goldfish trapped in a toilet, which they'd rescued—then flipped the property for a hefty profit.

Furious but powerless, Jin Baoshan could never forget their greedy faces. A murderous grudge was born.

He secretly investigated and learned they had scammed many others, who ironically were grateful to them. Jin Baoshan vowed they would die inside a haunted house.

He changed his identity and moved to Nanjiang City, took a job, and bought the most haunted house from a court auction. He didn't believe a haunted house could kill, so he planned to use his intellect instead.

After ruling out many plans, he settled on the safest, most foolproof: African bullet ants.

He had once helped compile a "Fun Animal Encyclopedia," which is why he knew about these rare creatures.

But ants alone weren't enough. To make the uncle-nephew duo die in terror, he researched an ancient courtesan's love potion called 'Night Without Homesickness'—a hypnotic incense. After many trials, he perfected the formula and mixed it into the wall paint.

Everything was ready. He invited the uncle-nephew pair to test the house, flattering them that they had helped him sell his old property. The two were utterly fooled—it was a death trap.

What happened next matched my deduction exactly. Surrounded by the bullet ants, the pair died agonizingly while Jin Baoshan sat in his car outside, clutching the queen ant, savoring their screams with twisted satisfaction.

He didn't return to the scene, fearing evidence. The ants don't live long anyway, especially out of their habitat. He never believed anyone could unravel his trap.

Until we came knocking, and he finally felt fear. He heard the police had hired a special consultant who had cracked several major cases.

Since then, he had been tracking us. When he saw we planned to stay overnight in the haunted house, he decided to kill us and erase all threats.

If three more mysterious deaths happened there, the police would stop investigating. He could finally rest easy.

But unexpectedly, not only did we survive, we solved the mystery within a day. All he could do was admire us.