Chapter 157: A Taste for the Extreme

The police arrived to handle the crime scene. It was already past 1 a.m. We were taking a break in a patrol car when Huang Xiaotao called over a cop to grab three cups of instant noodles. The steaming aroma filled the cramped space. Wang Dali ate while commenting, "Xiaotao, you carry hot water with you? That's thoughtful!"

Huang Xiaotao shrugged casually. "No, it wasn't them. Didn't the victim's room have a thermos?"

"Whoa!" Wang Dali nearly spilled his noodles.

After we finished eating, Huang Xiaotao got out and sent some officers to contact the funeral home director. Others were tasked with tracking down a black Santana with a smashed rear windshield.

Suddenly, an idea struck me. "From what I know, necrophilia is sometimes called 'ice love.' People with this fetish often have online forums or chat groups. If we can find their online hangouts, catching the suspect will be easy."

Huang Xiaotao frowned. "And where exactly do you expect to find that?"

I smirked. "That's where the rookie comes in."

I called our rookie, who was surprisingly active at this hour. I briefly explained the situation. The moment he heard we wanted him to infiltrate the necrophilia community, he was excited. But he naturally didn't forget to ask about payment.

Huang Xiaotao beckoned him over, and I handed the phone to her. She said, "Hey, it's me, Xiaotao."

...

The rookie's voice instantly rose eight octaves. "Ah, Xiaotao, that New Zealand hand cream you got me last time smells amazing. What are you giving me this time?"

Xiaotao replied, "Sorry, I can't afford luxury stuff every day. You haven't had a midnight snack, right?"

He said, "You reminded me! I was grinding League of Legends all night and still hungry."

Xiaotao promised, "I'll send over a deluxe BBQ combo right now."

He was thrilled and speechless. After hanging up, Xiaotao ordered from the cheapest BBQ joint near campus — eggplant, grilled chives, potato slices — all for less than fifty yuan.

Her tactic was brilliant: bribing with food instead of money. Food's value is fuzzy and it costs little, but it buys loyalty. The rookie was known for being sharp at school, but next to Xiaotao, he was still a novice.

The female corpse must have been extremely beautiful. For someone with this fetish, she was like a drug. Bringing her home meant he'd likely make a move tonight. We couldn't rest; every second counted.

Back at the precinct, Xiaotao bought a big box of Red Bulls. We gathered in the conference room waiting for updates. I was so hyped I didn't need caffeine. Wang Dali, after three cans, was still nodding off and kept pouring his drink on me.

At 2 a.m., the rookie sent a voice message. Xiaotao connected her laptop to QQ and turned up the volume so everyone could hear.

His speech was slurred, probably because of the BBQ. "Man, you don't realize how crazy these ice lovers are until you see their photos. Almost lost my appetite."

Xiaotao urged, "Get to the point!"

He sent a remote surveillance request. Once connected, Xiaotao projected the screen on the whiteboard. The rookie was chatting in a group called Ice Angel's Love under the username Ice Love Overlord.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't share their fetish. This group is nearly impossible to enter, so I hijacked someone's QQ account," he explained.

He opened the profile of a user named Old Ghost. "This is the incinerator worker Song Yang mentioned. Forty-eight years old, works at a government agency, and in the notes it says 'regularly supplies fresh meat, DM if interested.' Damn, these guys really know how to play."

Scrolling through the chat, grisly corpse photos flashed by. Many officers turned pale.

I recalled from psychology books that necrophilia is a mental disorder with many causes. Those affected have a strong desire for corpses but show no interest in the living.

Some ice lovers don't actually dig up graves — they convince partners or pay high prices for prostitutes to pose as corpses, chilled with ice packs and made pale with makeup. Any movement during their "sessions" results in fury.

Others are mortuary or funeral home workers who use their jobs as a cover for their secret desires — like Old Ghost.

Then there are extremists who really do steal bodies from graves, live with them, dress them up, and treat them as lovers. There's a Russian man who dug up twenty-six female corpses, aged fifteen to twenty-six, styled them like dolls, and "kept a harem." Police were shocked when they found him.

The rookie found a message from a user named April in the Human World saying he just got a "fresh meat" and was ready to try it — about an hour after the black Santana fled.

Photos showed a female corpse lying stiff on a bed, her face pixelated.

Xiaotao had the rookie enlarge the image. The corpse wore a pink dress, barefoot, pale and rigid — like a doll.

I said, "The blood was washed off, clothes changed. Someone must have dressed her up."

Xiaotao asked, "Can you get an IP address?"

Rookie said, "Approximate location is at the postal apartment complex in the southern part of the city. It uses a corporate LAN, so I can only trace so far."

Xiaotao jumped up, commanding, "Go search it immediately!"

We rushed over. It was already 3:30 a.m. I worried a new crime might have happened. The complex had four or five buildings.

One officer spotted the black Santana downstairs. The red cloth covering the license plate had been removed. Xiaotao ordered a quick search for the owner.

I stared at the car, suddenly elbowed the window, shattering the glass. As I opened the door, the alarm blared, setting off other cars' alarms nearby. Several neighbors turned on their lights.

Wang Dali asked, "What are you doing?"

I said, "Looking for clues."

I sat in the driver's seat and opened the glove box. Inside was a receipt with the name Li Wei.

Residents assumed it was a car thief. Groups gathered downstairs, with cops explaining the situation. I asked, "Does anyone know where Li Wei lives?"

An older woman said, "I'm from the neighborhood committee. There are four Li Weis here. Which one?"

I replied, "Single, mild-mannered, pale skin, short, quiet, never late on bills."

She thought for a moment. "Oh, him? Apartment 502, Unit 3."

We sped to the building. On the way, Xiaotao asked, "Song Yang, how did you know what he looks like?"

I said, "Just a guess."

I explained: Psychopaths usually act quiet and polite around others. Necrophilia is essentially a strong desire for control. The real person is likely short, unattractive, without charm. Since he has this fetish, no girlfriend, and wouldn't want anyone poking around his utilities, he never misses bills.

Xiaotao admired my insight. Wang Dali sighed, "If you're not lonely in love, you're lonely in your perversion."

When we reached the door, it was ajar. We pushed it open and found a man lying in a pool of blood — exactly as I'd pictured. Xiaotao sighed, "Too late."