"Ethan, what are you doing?"
In the abandoned school building, Rosie Liu lay unconscious on the ground. I grinned menacingly, while Ken Wang tried to calm me down. My body was now completely out of my own control.
Meanwhile, in my mind, this persona—those blank memories—were starting to resurface bit by bit.
When I was very young, in fifth grade, my parents' relationship fell apart. The reason was a twenty-one-year-old woman. My father cheated on my mother with her, and once my mother learned the truth, she cried every day.
My father stopped coming home, and my mother gradually sank into despair. Her sadness slowly turned into anger.
"It's all your fault, all your fault..."
A woman with a twisted face beat me with a flyswatter, hitting me over and over until it broke against my face. I just stared coldly, while my father rarely came home anymore.
My parents were already discussing divorce, but my mother refused to agree. I had seen, since I was little, how much she loved my father. She never denied his requests, and even quit her job so she could send me to a good school, because my father wanted it.
My mother quit her job and drove me to and from school every day. But now, she blamed me. It seemed her mind was starting to unravel.
Day after day, she cursed at me endlessly. Eventually, when relatives found out, my mother was sent to a psychiatric hospital. I thought the nightmare was finally about to end.
My father brought his new wife home. At first, things were fine, but after a while, that woman hit me for the first time. It hurt—a lot.
She split my head open, and then threatened me.
"If you dare tell your dad, I'll beat you to death."
The look in her eyes was as if she was staring at a piece of garbage that should have been thrown away—full of disgust and resentment.
My personality really was just like my mother's—submissive, never daring to speak up. Even when my father noticed my injuries, he just told me to be careful, like a stranger passing by, because he'd always been away since I was little.
My stepmother had terrible habits. Except for when my father was about to come home, she was only diligent then. The rest of the time, she ordered me to do everything. My life felt like hell—maybe even worse than hell.
Gradually, I started to realize that I really wasn't wanted. There were no expectations for me, nothing at all. I had nothing.
Finally, I made it to middle school. My stepmother and father suggested I live at school, since my father no longer had to work far away. Without even asking me, he arranged everything.
I was free. I escaped from that hellish home. Aside from a fixed monthly allowance, I basically stayed at school. Because my father rarely visited, one of my teachers noticed me—and noticed the scars that had accumulated on my body over the years.
The police came to the school. The officer who came was a young Dexter Sun. He questioned me again and again, but I just shook my head and refused to say anything. After all, I wasn't needed. I had nothing.
Back then, Dexter Sun just smiled and said nothing. But day after day, he kept coming by, and eventually, I started to talk.
Once my situation was revealed, my father and stepmother were taken to the police station.
After a long period of mediation, my father promised to visit me every week, and my stepmother assured me that once the misunderstanding was cleared up, she'd bring me home. I thought I finally saw hope. But when my father did visit, he was silent. The only thing he ever said to me was:
"Ah, I had no idea. Why didn't you say anything?"
That single sentence sent my heart plunging into an icy abyss again. I no longer had any expectations of my father—not even a shred. Instead, Dexter Sun would occasionally visit, bringing me daily necessities.
"Why do you care about me?"
"Because I'm a police officer."
After that, for reasons I couldn't explain, I felt hope in my heart again. I kept moving toward my goal of becoming a police officer.
Everything about my family was completely severed. Yet whenever I thought about my childhood, fear gripped me—especially that look, like I was garbage. I could never let it go.
When I was about to graduate from the police academy, one night I went out for a walk. I saw a couple arguing, and the look in the woman's eyes triggered a murderous impulse in me.
That night, I followed the woman home, gouged out her eyes, and took her away in her suitcase to a distant place. I erased all evidence, using what I'd learned at school.
It was as if I was sick—seriously ill. For some reason, whenever I heard that a woman was twenty-one, I would unconsciously pay attention to her. If she gave me that look, I would kill her.
One after another. Then I sensed that the police were conducting a large-scale investigation, so I suppressed my animalistic urge and stopped.
Only one person seemed to notice me—Dexter Sun. I saw him at the police academy, and he greeted me, but my overwhelming guilt made me pretend not to know him.
I knew exactly what Dexter Sun was investigating at the school. I used every trick I could, but gradually, I started to feel scared—terrified. He was checking the school's travel records.
I managed to frame my teacher. When he got drunk, he confessed everything. After interviewing witnesses, the police initially determined that the perpetrator had very specific knowledge of criminal investigation.
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The investigation wasn't limited to the school—they looked into the Criminal Investigation Division as well.
Strangely, after meeting Dexter Sun again after ten years, he seemed to realize I was the killer.
After graduation, when I heard I'd be transferred to the East City Police Station, I knew Dexter Sun had made up his mind.
But the night before I started work, I saw that look in Li Qian's eyes after she argued with her boyfriend. I couldn't hold back—I killed her that night.
At East City Police Station, only Dexter Sun and Yvonne Liu knew about my situation. Over the past few days, both of them kept testing me.
I felt more and more helpless, completely surrounded by guilt. I had wanted to become an outstanding police officer who could help others, but somewhere along the way, I'd lost my way.
Finally, last night—the night Dexter Sun died—after having dinner with Yvonne Liu, I went home. Dexter Sun was already waiting for me, smoking silently.
"Ethan, your external wounds may be healed, but the ones inside won't be so easy. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
Dexter Sun said this, then started crying in front of me. We walked to a spot outside my apartment building—there were no cameras, just a garbage dump nearby. I was the one who asked Dexter Sun to come.
Because I already knew why he was looking for me.
I'd been exposed—completely. Dexter Sun had figured it out: I was the killer. No matter how hard I tried to hide it, I was only human.
"Turn yourself in, Ethan. Don't go on like this. You're sick—it's my fault. Back then, if only I'd kept trying..."
"That's enough, Officer Sun. Why did you come looking for me?"
Fear completely consumed me, pushing me to the edge. My hand clenched tightly around a knife as Dexter Sun slowly walked toward me.
"Ethan, turn yourself in. You won't ever get out, but at least it's better than living in constant fear. You have psychological trauma—we can..."
But I was already at the end of my rope. I didn't want my secret exposed or to be arrested, because deep down, I still held onto the image of that handsome, carefree police officer—the one who said he was a cop and turned away, his figure shining in the sun.
After killing Dexter Sun, I put my crime clothes on him. Once everything was ready, I planned to stage the whole thing.
Originally, I intended for Li Qian's boyfriend to take the blame. But things went wrong—he actually tried to kill me. I just wanted to subdue him and get hurt a little to clear myself of suspicion, and I'd even prepared his testimony.
But what I hadn't anticipated was that Yvonne Liu didn't believe the statement I'd prepared for Feng Yuan.
I originally told Feng Yuan that I killed his girlfriend, but since I'm a cop, he should come and kill me, then get subdued. At the police station, he'd tell them it was Dexter Sun who forced him to do it.
Feng Yuan had a fatal weakness. After investigating with Yvonne Liu, I found an excuse to return to his billiard hall, where he hid a large stash of drugs. If caught, Feng Yuan would get the death penalty.
That night, while wandering the streets, I saw that look in Li Qian's eyes, followed her, and overheard Feng Yuan selling drugs. Li Qian kept trying to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. He even threatened to kill her if she kept it up.
So that night, Li Qian was prepared to die—hoping to save her boyfriend. But my own desires were completely out of control, and I killed Li Qian.
Things have reached this point. There's no turning back. I decided to bury everything in darkness. As long as I dealt with Yvonne Liu, nothing else would matter.
But now, my heart is filled with murderous intent toward her sister, Rosie Liu. Because that night, I saw the look Rosie Liu gave the thief.