Volume 12: Invitation to Hell, Chapter 29: The Hell of Dismemberment

"Phoenix, the fifteenth invitation has appeared," Song Xuekai said as he walked in.

"The killer's frequency of operation has been quite high lately," Yaoguang muttered, following Song Xuekai outside.

They were at the back door of the First People’s Hospital, standing before an inconspicuous little building that was already surrounded by police. As Yaoguang stepped closer, a wave of foul, putrid air hit her—the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh, yet strangely mixed with the damp, earthy smell of soil.

As Yaoguang moved to enter, Lele blocked her path. "It’s gruesome in there. You guys stay outside; I’ve already thrown up."

Seeing Lele’s deathly pale complexion, Yaoguang knew this was a tough case. She stepped inside. The space began with a small courtyard where a cross stood, a man bound to it. He was short and thin, but upon closer inspection, his muscles were remarkably developed. What shocked Yaoguang most were the countless knife marks covering his body. "So many wounds... is this Lingchi (death by a thousand cuts)?"

"It is Lingchi, though the flesh wasn't carved away," Lele explained. "I counted roughly. Just on one arm, there are hundreds of cuts. The blade used was light and thin, like a bamboo leaf knife."

"Then this is the Hell of Lingchi," Huo Mingkun noted as he followed them in. "Did this guy grave-rob or dig up a tomb to deserve such a death?"

"The fifteenth level of hell, the Hell of Lingchi," Chen Haixu added. "Those who dig up graves are cast here. Is he a grave robber?"

"I don't know if he's a grave robber, but I know he's beyond perverted. See for yourself inside, but I’m warning you three: don't vomit," Chenchen said, walking out of the house.

Yaoguang stepped into the small room, where the stench of decay was overwhelming. Following the smell, she saw a rotting human head on the kitchen cutting board, surrounded by slices of flesh. Stunned, she turned to see an open refrigerator containing a pair of human arms—fresh ones. Human torsos and tissues were scattered across the floor.

Suppressing a wave of nausea, she ventured deeper. On a crude bed lay a rotting female corpse dressed in sexy lingerie.

Yaoguang couldn't take it anymore and walked back out. "What kind of monster is this? He eats corpses and uses them like inflatable dolls? This goes beyond mere perversion."

Song Xuekai handed her a small notebook. Yaoguang opened it to find detailed records of burials in public cemeteries, as precise as hospital death certificates.

"Is he a necrophiliac?" Jiang Yun asked, looking disgusted.

"I think you guessed right," Xuanchen said, handing her the invitation.

Yaoguang opened it:
*Invitee: Xiao Yang.*
*Descendant of a grave-robbing family. How much of your ancestors' craft have you learned? I've never seen you raid a tomb, but you're quite skilled at stealing corpses. In China, we believe in 'letting the dead rest in peace,' yet you insist on digging them up. Good for you. Is the flesh delicious? Is it a beautiful sight? I have turned you into a corpse this time. Let’s see if you have the ability to eat yourself.*
*Signature: Messenger of Hell.*

"Sharp. He’s a 'tailor' who eats corpses. If the families of the deceased found out, they’d tear him apart," Yaoguang said, speechless. "I don't even want to investigate this filth."

"Then let's bury him," Xuanchen suggested.

"Investigate first," Yaoguang replied. "See how many bodies he defiled. And look into his family. If anyone else is involved in grave robbing, arrest them. Profiting from the dead—they aren't afraid of suffering the Hell of Lingchi themselves? Truly detestable."

The background check on Xiao Yang began, but the results were disheartening. He had no living relatives and worked as a body porter at the First People’s Hospital. He spent most of his time in the morgue, silent, introverted, and always keeping his head down.

***

Standing in the autopsy room, Yaoguang probed Xiao Yang’s spirit. It was gone; he hadn't undergone a trial of the soul upon death. Yet, the autopsy confirmed he had been flayed alive. Desecrating and eating corpses was vile, but surely not enough to warrant such a brutal death? There had to be more to it.

When Xuanchen returned, Yaoguang asked, "What did you find?"

"Aside from the bodies at his home, we’ve verified the rest. Based on his notebook, not many graves were disturbed. He was selective: female, around twenty, single, accidental death. Those who died of illness were spared. He would desecrate the bodies and bury them back." Xuanchen sighed. "If not for Akun’s Golden Eyes, we never would have verified those dozen graves."

"Phoenix, one of the two bodies found in the killer's home is strange," Lele shouted from another autopsy room, looking horrified.

Yaoguang followed her in.

"This one on the bed died a week ago from head trauma. It matches a missing person report. But this dismembered one is bizarre. The head, flesh, bones, and the arms in the fridge all belong to the same person—a female, twenty to twenty-five. She died of severe head trauma. But she was still alive—at least partially—when she was dismembered. I found physiological reactions in the wounds. She was alive when he started carving her up," Lele said, trembling. "I found Xiao Yang’s fingerprints, bite marks, and DNA on her. He definitely dismembered her."

"Did Xiao Yang kill her?" Yaoguang looked at the mangled remains. "Is she identified?"

"DNA matching is underway," Chenchen replied.

"Reconstruct her face, issue an alert, and identify the source," Yaoguang ordered.

"But based on our investigation, Xiao Yang was only interested in the dead. Why would he target the living?" Xuanchen wondered.

"What if Xiao Yang didn't know she was alive?" Yaoguang hypothesized. "The girl fell from a height and was dying. Xiao Yang happened to pass by and took her home. A fresh body would appeal to him, and it was the middle of the night—no one saw. It fits."

"How can you be sure it happened in the middle of the night?" Xuanchen asked.

"Easy. If it were daytime, she would have been in the hospital immediately and found by her family. As it is, she’s an unidentified corpse—her family doesn't even know she’s been butchered," Yaoguang said.

Lele handed over a report with a strange expression. Yaoguang opened the folder and froze. "What? Xiao Yang is this girl's father? What is this?"

"No way. A father ate his own daughter?" the others gasped.

"This is interesting. Find the mother," Yaoguang said, dropping the report.

After the alert was issued, a woman followed Song Xuekai into the room. Soon, wails of agony echoed from the autopsy suite.

The woman emerged trembling. "Xiaoxiao isn't my husband's child. I was drunk at a bar years ago and was taken advantage of. I didn't know who the man was. I found out I was pregnant and assumed it was my husband's. I only realized the truth during a blood test years later—my husband and I are both type O, but the girl is type B. I never dared tell him."

"The real father is in the other room," Yaoguang said. The woman stumbled in and saw Xiao Yang’s scarred corpse.

"DNA confirms he is the father," Yaoguang stated. "Prepare yourself. We need to question you."

***

"Your daughter fell from a height, causing fatal head trauma. Xiao Yang, a necrophiliac, found her. He thought she was dead and took her home to dismember her, not knowing she was still breathing—and not knowing she was his own daughter. Where were you at 2:00 AM seven days ago?" Yaoguang asked.

"I was at work. Xiaoxiao was home alone," the mother, Han Qingqing, replied.

"Was anyone else home?"

"My husband. When I returned the next day, he said she had gone back to school. She was rebellious and often didn't come home, so I was used to it." The mother paused, her face pale. "No... that's impossible."

Yaoguang obtained the addresses and names. The husband was Chen Jianming.

Xuanchen checked the surveillance footage from the apartment complex. It clearly showed Chen Jianming pushing Xiaoxiao off the balcony. She fell, and a figure (Xiao Yang) arrived, picked her up, and carried her away. Chen Jianming then frantically scrubbed the blood from the ground before returning upstairs.

"Is this Chen Jianming?" Yaoguang asked, pointing at the screen. Han Qingqing nodded woodenly.

An hour later, Chen Jianming was arrested. Seeing his wife, he smiled. "My inner demon is gone. You’ll be fine on your own."

The interrogation was straightforward. Chen Jianming had known the truth about the blood type for years. The guilt and rage boiled over that night; he attacked Xiaoxiao and pushed her, never realizing that the body had been removed by someone else before he could return to clean up.

A month later, Chen Jianming was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison.

As he was being transported, Han Qingqing held the urn of Xiaoxiao's ashes. "I will wait for you to come back. I’ll have another child with you. I can do it. I’m sorry."

"It was my fault," Chen Jianming said, kneeling before her. "But if one day you don't want to wait anymore, don't."

They clung to each other, weeping. Yaoguang watched, feeling a heavy weight in her heart. The twists of fate in this world never ceased. Was this the sin of human nature or the mockery of heaven? She couldn't tell.

What puzzled her most was why the "Messenger of Hell" had judged Xiao Yang with the Hell of Lingchi for eating his own daughter—if the killer didn't know the connection, how did the "Messenger" know? It remained a mystery.

Much later, the spirit of Xiaoxiao was finally found; she had almost become a vengeful ghost. It was a tragedy—she died never knowing why her father killed her, and before she had even truly passed, she was butchered by her biological father. Who could be blamed for such a twisted beginning?

The fifteenth level of hell: the Hell of Lingchi.