"Jenna! Jenna! Wake up from your lover's embrace immediately!" Amanda's roar came through the telephone receiver. "Morson Street, Number 256 Block C, assemble there!"
Having spun around for a day and a night, Jenna was forced to sit up from the chair she was resting against. The member of the Behavioral Science Office, who was photocopying documents, looked at her sympathetically.
"Ms. Waller is always like this." The blonde brought Jenna a cup of coffee and then said, "Are you okay? If not, take a leave. Brainiac won't force you to work."
Jenna shook her head and said, "I'm not part of the human race; I don't need such long breaks."
"High-intensity continuous empathy is dangerous for any empathizer," said the Asian person nearby. "Putting yourself in the killer's perspective can make you feel mentally disoriented."
"It's actually not too bad," Jenna said quietly. "The one who acted isn't a madman from Gotham, so the efficiency of the spiritual pollution isn't high. I can still manage."
"Alright, enough talking." Jenna stood up and, unusually, put on a coat, saying, "Morson Street, sounds somewhat familiar. Does anyone here know about it?"
"I've already pulled out information from Brainiac for you," another colleague said. "Sent it to your phone, have a look. I think the most valuable is still the Morson district murder case that happened over ten years ago, with about 50 casualties and disappearances in a mass poisoning incident."
Jenna took a deep breath but then shook her head again; over ten years ago was too distant. It was said that back then Gotham was still shrouded in Wuyun. Jenna couldn't imagine how dark Gotham would have been then; there must be a darker truth behind such a case.
She went out the door and drove to Morson Street. On the way, she reviewed the records in Brainiac's data. The Morson district consists of roughly a dozen streets, originally the residence of the Mossen family, a fishing magnate hence named. The street where the Mossen family lived was Morson Street.
As soon as Jenna got out of the car, she smelled the bloody air, along with an indescribable dark aura. She walked slowly through the dark alley, where struggling souls whispered beside corroded, rusty drains; from piles of rotten wooden boards, someone let out a terrified scream. Countless scenes piled up before her eyes, hazy and blurred.
"Jenna! Jenna!!!"
Jenna was suddenly pushed. She came to her senses and found herself standing inside the police line. Amanda glared at her and said, "What are you doing! I called you here to solve the case, but you can't just storm into the crime scene like this..."
"Sorry, I'm a bit..." Jenna shook her head, took a deep breath, and then said, "What should I do now?"
"Go meet your new partner. Brainiac found him; though I think he's just a young master, he looks pretty smart and might be helpful."
Jenna followed her gaze over. She recognized the young man standing by the police line—Tim Drake, the adopted son of Bruce Wayne and the main operator of the Drake Group.
Tim came over, shook hands with Jenna, and said, "I've heard a lot about you, Miss Jenna. You don't look too well."
"I'm fine," Jenna shook her head. Tim turned to look at the crime scene and then said, "Have you been inside?"
"Yes, that's why I'm staying outside," Tim hesitated for a moment and then said, "I don't think you should go in."
"I'm also here to solve the case."
"Exactly why I'm advising you. You're an empathizer, aren't you? This could mess with your mind."
"Is it a classic murder case?"
"Gotham style," Tim nodded.
"Alright, tonight's challenges really are many," Jenna closed her eyes firmly. She tightened her coat, smoothed her hair, and then said, "If I look like I'm losing control later, wake me quickly."
Tim nodded and followed after Jenna. As soon as they stepped into the house, Jenna froze.
A male corpse sat on the central sofa nonchalantly. His skin had an abnormal color, like he'd been poisoned. His lower abdomen was cut open, his rectum, bladder, and genitals were removed. His legs were straight, and the innards flowed down his legs, blood dripping down to his toenails.
His hands were crossed like a pharaoh on his chest, his head tilted back. The corpse had become somewhat stiff, and the coagulated blood formed some kind of pattern on the sofa, evidently left intentionally.
Jenna, as if attracted, tiptoed forward until she stood before the corpse. Those illusions that surfaced in her mind when she arrived flashed again, making her realize the killer deliberately chose this area.
"I love the night because it makes everyone feel lonely and scared. In such an atmosphere, people's connections become closer. However, night without day is loathsome. If white isn't white enough, then black isn't black enough. I feel bored, depressed, agitated..."
Jenna gently chanted: "Eternal night is a mistake, I need to correct it. Death chooses the night, not the night bringing death. A diligent Night Watcher should understand this better than I do. I need him to speak to the night. This is a ritual; it's just the beginning..."
"Here, countless lives were taken in the night. So I choose here as the altar. I need a Prayer, to use black as a sacrifice, to communicate with the night for me. He offered his reproductive system, it's black, filled with filth. It's a mockery because he once filled himself with toxin..."
Jenna began to tremble all over. Her lips quivered as she said, "He insulted death so madly, exactly what I want. His corpse is the best sacrifice. So I... show it to the one who brought eternal night... I warn him..."
Jenna's body began to wobble. Tim quickly rushed up to support her, shouting: "Stop! Jenna, stop!"
Jenna suddenly awoke. She was gasping for breath, soaked in sweat, shivering and leaning against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself: "You're right, I shouldn't have gone in."
"What did you see?"
Jenna wiped her face and then said, "First tell me what you saw."
"The patterns formed by those blood clots are constellations."
"Constellations?" Jenna seemed a bit surprised.
"Yes, Scorpio. In astrology, Scorpio is often seen as the constellation that controls the reproductive system, bladder, and rectum, which corresponds to the posture of the corpse. Scorpio is also often regarded as black or white. Perhaps the theme of this case is related to Eternal Night."
"The theme of the case indeed concerns the night." Jenna said with her lips pursed, "But the killer is merely using the corpse to mock the notion that plunging Earth into eternal night would bring death."
Tim was slightly taken aback, the answer seemed somewhat abrupt. But he patiently inquired, "Why do you say that?"
"Because this guy is a corpse desecrator suffering from an STI." Jenna stared coldly ahead, seemingly still unable to break free from the state of empathy, "A night worker in the funeral industry, abusing his position to defile corpses. He might have desecrated corpses elsewhere as well. That's how he contracted the STI."
Tim's expression twitched slightly, clearly feeling a bit nauseous. But the police investigation results came out quickly, and they were exactly as Jenna said. This guy used to be a corpse collector for the mob by the docks, quite notorious.
In theory, the profession of a corpse collector is relatively respected. Even during the mob era, no one would deliberately mess with this group of people, because handling corpses is crucial, and no one wants a pile of unhandled corpses on their turf. Corpse collectors can come and go freely on various gangs' territories, everyone shows them some respect.
However, this guy, named Jerryta, managed to make the job of corpse collecting notorious precisely because of his strange hobby. He enjoys desecrating corpses, regardless of gender, and he particularly favors the corpses of sex workers, which is how he contracted the STI.
As corpse collectors always work at night, they are considered night workers. His work efficiency was quite good, and the mob couldn't be bothered with those who were already dead, so he managed to get by.
Such a hobby isn't something that can be changed in a day or two. After Brainiac's era arrived, this guy got itchy and stole bodies from the mortuary, eventually getting caught. Since he hadn't committed the act yet, he was only sentenced to a few months. But he couldn't resist and went again, this time caught red-handed, and is now in the trial stage.
As for why he wasn't detained, it's because the Gotham Police Department's detention center facilities are being upgraded, so some lightly sentenced criminals have been put under house arrest. Jerryta is one of them.
Tim went to the police station and after coming back told Jenna, "This guy has two STIs and AIDS, he wasn't going to live much longer. The killer was bold and skillful, daring to perform an autopsy without fear of professional exposure."
Jenna straightened up with difficulty, then said, "In the killer's view, Jerryta isn't just a corpse desecrator, but someone with no respect for death."
"Then why isn't it punitive?" Tim asked, "Why wouldn't the killer intend to punish someone who disrespects death?"
Jenna shook her head and said, "If that were the case, he wouldn't have exposed his genitals. There's a very strong declaration here — 'Look at what this guy has done, he's alive today because death is meaningless and didn't punish him.'"
"Isn't an STI punishment? He doesn't have much longer to live."
"What will be the cause of death?"
"Immune system collapse due to AIDS, the inflammation in his body is already very serious."
"Then the scene wouldn't be like this." Jenna thought for a moment and said, "If it were set up to show that disrespecting death would warrant punishment, the scene might start from the blood, or reflect other characteristics related to AIDS. I haven't seen that. Also, I believe you can also see the religious implication in the deceased's posture, if it were punitive, there might be elements like fire. Of course, this is my assumption, perhaps it could be as you said."
"You say it's a ritual?"
"Yes. He's mocking. He views death and the night as opposites, and he clearly sides with the night, mocking death for needing to borrow the night's power and scoffing that this won't achieve anything."
"But he still killed him, isn't that bringing death?"
"Because he was already dying." Jenna thought for a moment and said, "Death is the inevitable outcome, bringing it forward is precisely to demonstrate his stripping away of the authority over death, it's also a provocation and mockery."
"You mentioned a sacrifice?"
Jenna nodded, then shook her head, "He wants to offer his sacrifice to the night, but this corpse is just part of it, not the whole. There will certainly be more."
"Where will it be? Who will it be?" Amanda walked over and asked.
"I don't know." Jenna said, "He will mock death in various ways, but I'm not sure how. I... can't delve deeper."
"So haven't we deduced anything?" Amanda said discontentedly, "Forget it, Mr. Drake, let's investigate as you suggested. Constellations, there are twelve, right?"
Tim nodded and said, "But this victim has nothing to do with constellations, he's not a Scorpio, and there's no way to use it to pinpoint the next victim."
"This is really troublesome!" Amanda cursed through gritted teeth, "Investigating in this damn city, criminology knowledge is useless. Why can't it just be a simple crime of passion or revenge killing?"
"You should've known by now, ma'am." Tim said somewhat helplessly.