sequence two

Rumor content analyzed meticulously, scrutinizing every word and sentence, incorporating the confirmed identity of the perpetrator, their psychological profile, physical and mental state. Then, applying his own set of theories, experiences, and intuition, he systematically eliminates all factors that do not meet the criteria.

In the end, what remains is something peculiar, resembling graffiti symbols or patterns rather than conventional religious ritual symbols. Described, it consists of marks made up of dots, curves, and crescent-shaped blocks. It doesn't distinctly resemble the distorted transformation of existing outlines. The most peculiar aspect is the absence of any straight lines and curves resembling known ancient scripts. To confirm this, he delves into numerous written materials.

From a rational perspective, it is likely just graffiti symbolizing the perpetrator's disturbed psyche, lacking any non-human elements. However, Marx still attempts to search for similarities in existing symbolic constructs.

He seeks evidence: the perpetrator's actions might largely stem from human nature, but the catalyst might be something non-human.

In terms of results, Marx gained nothing. Later, using some items stolen from that horrifying crime scene, he pretended to have some connection with the perpetrator and visited the murderer in prison. By this time, the killer was mentally and physically exhausted, trapped in a state of mental trance. Marx could confirm that this wasn't a pretense; the perpetrator's spirit had truly collapsed after being captured, as if receiving retribution. Even minor movements would instill immense fear in him. However, considering the heinous crimes he committed, this retribution could never cleanse his actions.

Marx felt no sympathy for him; he merely attempted to extract every bit of information he knew. The process involved calming his spirit, which took some effort, and inducing him, which required more effort. Marx learned a small detail: before deciding to commit the crime, the perpetrator had visited a bookstore, saw something in a book, and only then resolved to carry out these gruesome acts. The police had already discovered this detail, but they seemed indifferent. Perhaps for the perpetrator, it was a precise trigger, yet, from various perspectives, attributing the motive solely to the influence of a book's content was undoubtedly wrong. On the other hand, a person capable of such terrible crimes, one with ritualistic behavior, wasn't acting solely on impulse.

Impulsive criminals, even if committing murder, usually only kill one or two people. If they kill many, it is swiftly done. In contrast, this perpetrator, while the motive might have been impulsive, consciously, rationally, intelligently, and planned, killed eighteen people in a month. He even became a city legend during this process.

He wasn't impulsive, nor did he commit the crime solely because of a book. That was the most scientific conclusion. However, Marx still found a slight interest in the lead that the police disregarded. He inquired about the bookstore's location, the approximate appearance of the book, but the perpetrator couldn't recall the book's title. He later became unsure if he had actually seen such a book or if it was a problem with his own psychology and memory.

On another day off, while it was raining, with a gloomy sky, Marx, carrying a somewhat outdated black umbrella and a black briefcase, took a bus to the street near the bookstore's address. This area wasn't the city center or a bustling district; an urban village that had stood for fifty years was nearby, with exposed red brick buildings and a partially cement road revealing gravel, creating a bumpy surface that caught people off guard. Marx's leather shoes and trousers were soaked, leaving dark brown stains. The road conditions here were quite poor, but Marx wasn't disheartened. He had ventured into more uncomfortable places in pursuit of supernatural rumors.

He adjusted his dark suit jacket, moving towards the intended location. The path was seldom trodden, as if the heavy rain had washed away all traces. Rainwater continuously fell from the eaves, creating a constant splashing sound. Unfamiliar with the area, he had to navigate detours into some side streets. Before entering, he wasn't even aware that there were dead ends; he had to backtrack and find another route.

Numerous low-rise buildings surrounded him, and the paths were complex. Many old street lamps lacked lampshades, some even lacked light bulbs, with broken wires occasionally visible, left unattended. It was a harsh living environment. After walking for a while, his shoes had long been soaked, and the cold climbed up his socks and trouser legs, creating an indescribable sensation.

But what could he do? The perpetrator's provided bookstore address was so ambiguous that Marx only realized how remote it was after arriving. If not for some special reasons, he couldn't fathom why anyone would venture into such a place just for a bookstore. Conversely, he found himself somewhat interested in what the bookstore might look like. Of course, the outcome might disappoint him.

When he saw the sign of the bookstore, he had been wandering around this area for half an hour. Along the way, he encountered very few pedestrians, as if the heavy rain had washed away their traces. Marx's conspicuous appearance in this attire attracted noticeable or subtle gazes, reflecting the strangers' restraint, suspicion, and subconscious vigilance toward him. For the people living in this area, he was a complete stranger, making them feel uneasy, skeptical, and instinctively guarded.