"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."
~Stephen King
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"So.. Planning to perform an autopsy?"
Lynn asked the question casually, wine glass in hand, as he looked at the two alien corpses lying on the lab bench.
"Let's scan them first."
Tony picked up a scanner and began analyzing both bodies.
When the results appeared, showing their skin density was seven times that of a human, Tony fell silent. "So… Earthlings are the weakest race in the universe?"
"I don't know, but I doubt it. The universe is huge—there's probably a race out there even weaker."
Just then, Lynn's phone rang.
He answered, and George Stacy's voice came through: "Lynn, we found the killer—the one who cut off the victim's head and stuffed butterflies into her stomach."
Hearing that, Lynn said, "Damn! Where? I'll head over immediately."
George gave an address and hung up.
Lynn turned to Tony. "I've got a case. I'm heading out."
As he walked toward the exit, Tony quickly called after him, "Oh—by the way, I already transferred the payment for the sobering potion to your account. If you need help, call me anytime!"
"No problem."
Lynn nodded once and left.
He got into his car outside the villa and glanced at his phone, which showed a bank transfer of two million dollars.
Lynn stepped on the accelerator and headed straight for the address George had given him.
If it weren't for his NYPD badge being so useful—letting him encounter more lingering spirits and obsessed dead...
With this kind of money, he could easily choose to lie flat and live a life of pure indulgence.
Tsk. What a pity this was the Marvel Universe.
The grindset never stops! He still had to grind and get stronger!
Arriving at a neighborhood in Brooklyn, Lynn linked up with George.
"According to the Medical Examiner," George began, "the old wooden carving found jammed into the first victim's eye socket has been out of production for twenty years."
"And the saw blade used to decapitate the second victim was traced back to a woodworking family here in Brooklyn."
"So we suspect the killer is someone from that family."
Loading his chamber, Lynn asked, "And? Did you narrow it down to the killer?"
"While you were in Europe, I questioned the family," George said. "Also, regarding the fourth victim—the butterflies stuffed in her stomach were from India. At present, only one butterfly house in the city has imported that species."
"Oh?"
"And that butterfly house recently filed a lawsuit against a man named John Coster for stealing butterflies. And John Coster is from this woodworking family."
"Heh!" Hearing that, Lynn nodded. "Then John Coster is undoubtedly the killer."
He looked at the house in front of them. "Is he inside?"
"This is his registered address. According to the file, he has a mental illness and receives weekly treatment from a female doctor."
As George explained, the two of them approached the front door.
George knocked, but after a long silence, there was still no response from inside.
Seeing this, Lynn signaled for George to step back, then kicked the door open.
They entered with handguns drawn, glancing toward the staircase.
"Lynn, I'll check the second floor. You take the first," George said.
"Alright."
Lynn nodded and moved toward the two rooms beside the stairs.
His enhanced senses told him immediately—no one else was in the house.
So he lowered his weapon from a rapid-fire stance.
When Lynn entered one of the rooms, he froze for a moment—every inch of the walls was covered with photos of a blonde woman.
"George, get down here!"
Hearing Lynn's shout, George Stacy hurried down from the second floor.
The moment he stepped into the room and saw the photos, George immediately said, "That's the female doctor who treats him! It looks like we're a step late, Lynn. Let's head to her house now—we might still save her!"
They rushed to the psychologist's home, only to find the door clearly kicked open.
Inside, the place was a mess, with streaks of blood visible on the floor.
"We're ...late."
George frowned deeply. "I'll alert the surrounding patrol units and have forensics check John Coster's car."
"Maybe the doctor can still be saved."
"There's no time."
Seeing no lingering spirits anywhere, Lynn pulled out his phone and dialed Tony Stark.
Inside the villa, Tony Stark was in the middle of scanning alien weapons when Lynn's call came through.
"Wow, you've been gone less than two hours and you're already calling me," Tony joked. "What is it, esteemed Mr. NYPD? Did I commit a crime you need to investigate?"
Ignoring Tony's teasing, Lynn said, "Tony, I know you have private satellites. I need Jarvis to help me locate someone. The NYPD's surveillance system is too slow....."
Lynn quickly explained the situation.
"No problem."
Realizing how urgent it was, Tony immediately instructed Jarvis to track John Coster using the satellite.
In a minute and a half, Jarvis sent the exact coordinates to Lynn's phone.
"Thanks, Tony."
Lynn hung up and relayed the address to George. "This is where John Coster's car was last seen twenty minutes ago—he left here driving the psychologist's vehicle."
"Excellent."
George slammed the accelerator, and the black Chevrolet sped toward the location.
...
Inside the warehouse—
"Hmm..!!!"
The psychologist jolted awake, dazed and disoriented as she looked around.
"Ahhh!!"
When she turned her head and saw a woman's severed head preserved in formaldehyde inside a glass jar, she screamed and recoiled in terror.
She tried to move, but her ankle was bound tightly by a metal chain.
Across from her was a table lined with knives, saw blades, axes—an entire collection of tools meant for butchery.
Maria's face turned ghostly pale.
"Don't be afraid, my dear Doctor Maria."
The voice came from behind her. Maria instinctively turned her head and saw John Coster gazing at her with disturbing adoration.
Seeing him, her fear only intensified.
He was the mentally ill man who had broken into her home, knocked her unconscious, and dragged her here.
"John, please… please don't hurt me, I—"
"Shh~ DON'T SAY SUCH THINGS!!" John crouched down, placed a finger to his lips, and smiled at her trembling form.
"Sigh.. I'm sorry for yelling.. but my dear Doctor Maria, I love you so much. How could I ever hurt you? So please don't say such a thing, or I will.. I will.."
"J-John.. listen.. kidnapping someone is wrong. Please let me go. I promise I will not inform the police—"
"I SAID 'SHHHHH' DIDN'T I? Sigh.. I.. I love you so much, you are mine.. MINE! So why would you want to go away from me? Haha, doesn't make any sense, right? In fact, to express my love for you, I used four female corpses to create the most beautiful four-line love poem in existence."
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(づ￣ 3￣)づ
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