The team was stunned by the mention of a "reward," exchanging wide-eyed glances, too shocked to speak...
Even the bold Luo Weiwei couldn't resist. She elbowed the person next to her and whispered: "I heard back in the day that Detective Song's a total pushover at home—his pockets are emptier than his face. He waits for Sophia to dole out allowance every month, and how much depends on how often he... you know, 'pays up.'"
"A reminder: forensic experts tend to have sharp hearing!"
Alex cleared his throat, startling Luo Weiwei into zipping her lips shut. The air turned awkward fast. Just then, Captain Lane stubbed out his cigarette and approached, looking ragged and worn.
"Song—er, concerned citizen—I've got something to tell you."
"What is it?"
Lane squinted, lost in memory for a moment. He sighed deeply: "Before she died, Lily kept talking about this dream she had. A victim girl, naked and tied to a chair, crying and begging to go home."
"Was it one of the discovered victims? Or someone still missing?" Alex cut straight to the point.
"She dreamed about Emma Hayes," Lane explained in detail.
Alex frowned: "But the files say Emma was found in a Lolita dress."
"I've seen the photos, but I want to check that dress in person at evidence storage—face to face."
Lane agreed without hesitation.
Luo Weiwei tagged along with Alex to the evidence room. On the way, she couldn't help prying: "Why'd a legend like you apply for early retirement in your thirties? You were at your peak... with your skills, a little more push and you could've made deputy chief."
Alex's ears were ringing from her chatter. He shot back: "And you? First time we met, you were ice-cold, barely said a word. Now you're a gossip machine?"
"You!" Luo Weiwei sputtered, at a loss.
Alex steered back to the case: "Didn't find any leads on that Lolita dress?"
Luo Weiwei sighed and shook her head: "Nope. Tech compared everything—no DNA from the killer. He's a pro at anti-forensics!"
"And the dress is brand new. The perp probably gloved up and dressed her after moving the body to the basement."
Alex interrupted: "No—the dress was put on while Emma was still alive, or within half an hour of death. Bodies cool and stiffen postmortem; it's hard to dress a rigid corpse without force, which would cause visible damage."
"That's why families prep burial clothes before a hospital patient passes. Once rigor sets in, it's tough to clothe them without harm."
By then, they'd reached the evidence storage door.
Opening it, they came face-to-face with a pale, faceless girl in a Lolita dress!
Luo Weiwei screamed "Ah!" Alex flinched slightly but stayed composed: "Just a mannequin. Jeez, you jumped."
Breathing heavily, Luo Weiwei followed him in: "You weren't around for the autopsy, so after I stripped it off the body, I put it on a model to keep the shape. Didn't expect them to stash it by the door—nearly gave me a heart attack."
Alex approached the mannequin, scrutinizing the Lolita dress closely.
It was all dark tones, patterned with eerie motifs: deep red roses, winged bats, white skulls—a classic Gothic Lolita style.
It evoked images of shadowy, despair-filled medieval European castles.
"I looked it up," Alex said. "Current Lolita trends fall into three main styles: sweet, Gothic, and classic. Then there are offshoots like Chinese-inspired, Japanese, steampunk, and more."
"This Gothic vibe reflects the killer's dark, twisted psyche."
He kept examining, brow furrowing deeper. Luo Weiwei tried interrupting a few times but got waved off.
Finally, Alex stood: "You all missed a huge clue. This dress isn't machine-made—it's hand-stitched, needle by needle. Even the skull-and-rose patterns are embroidered by hand. Something like this costs at least ten grand."
"So the killer's loaded?" Luo Weiwei ventured.
Alex didn't respond, lost in his train of thought: "Spending that much on a non-brand dress makes him a high-end customer for any boutique."
"Have teams check Lolita shops in the surrounding five cities. Anyone custom-order something like this? Get pros to analyze the fabric, origin, style—everything."
"Keep it accurate—and discreet."
Luo Weiwei nodded firmly: "Li Jin's the best at canvassing. He'll handle it perfectly."
"Good. I'm counting on results."
As Luo Weiwei turned to leave, Alex stopped her: "Phone Li Jin for that. You stay."
"Me?" She pointed at herself, surprised.
Alex nodded: "Yes. There's something even more important—for you to do."