18 years later, in the afternoon, "wee-woo, wee-woo," a police car stopped in front of an empty rental house at the very end of a street in a housing complex. A balding middle-aged man in a brown long coat got out of the car. He stared at the worn, long-unoccupied rental house. Around him were many police cars and an ambulance.
Police officers had set up a barrier to keep curious residents from coming too close. The middle-aged man walked past the yellow police tape. An officer greeted him,
"Lieutenant Michael," the officer said, saluting.
"Yeah, what's the situation?" Michael asked.
"Please go in and see for yourself, Lieutenant," the officer replied.
"Hmph, alright," Michael said.
Michael walked into the empty rental house. He saw the dusty floor, covered in footprints from police and medical personnel who had already entered. He walked into the living room and immediately covered his nose with a handkerchief.
The furniture in the living room was still there, covered in plastic, untouched. But on a single-seater sofa, lay the body of a middle-aged man wearing a brown sleeping robe, house slippers, and with white hair. He was sitting casually, his hands resting on the armrests.
After Michael looked closer, he saw that the dead man's face looked terrified, his mouth agape and eyes wide. His body looked thin like a mummy, all his veins visible.
Michael put on his gloves. He opened the sleeping robe, revealing a neatly sewn surgical scar on the victim's chest, running from below the collarbone to the stomach.
Michael closed the sleeping robe again. A young detective approached him.
"Lieutenant Michael," he greeted.
"Oh, John, I thought it was someone else," Michael replied casually.
"Same as before, Lieutenant. The victim is always placed in an empty rental in a state like he just saw a ghost," John said, looking at the body.
"Do we know who the victim is?" Michael asked.
"The victim's name is Greg Williams, 50 years old, a high school language teacher," John replied.
"Does he have a record?" Michael asked.
"Hmm, he was reported to the police once for sexual harassment of one of his students but was released due to lack of evidence," John answered, reading his notes.
"Hmm, I see. So he has a record. When did he die? Has forensics investigated?" Michael asked.
"According to the forensic team's quick check, the victim died more than two days ago. His blood is dry, his body is mummified as you see, and his heart is missing. It's estimated the victim wasn't killed in this house but placed here," John explained.
"And we're still puzzled how the perpetrator got in here. Have you asked the landlord?" Michael asked.
"Yes, Lieutenant. According to the landlord, there was nothing unusual about his rental, and all doors and windows were locked until yesterday, when some neighbors taking a shortcut smelled a strong decaying smell from inside. When he checked, he found the victim and reported it to the police," John answered.
"So, it's like all the previous cases. He doesn't leave any traces and doesn't take anything inside. His target is always an empty rental or apartment where he places his victims," Michael replied.
"Pretty much, Lieutenant. There aren't even footprints, and when we entered, everything was in its original state, covered in thick dust," John said.
"Alright, please make the report," Michael said, turning to leave.
"But headquarters wants us to identify and hunt down the perpetrator, Lieutenant," John replied.
"How, exactly? Tell headquarters to come down themselves. I'll talk to them. Besides, as long as the victims are people with cases or at least reported before, I don't have a problem. It even helps the police's job, right? Alright, I'm leaving," Michael said.
Casually, with both hands in his long coat pockets, Michael walked out of the rental house, which was still busy with many police officers investigating inside.
*****
Meanwhile, at the same time, in a high school classroom, Dean, now a very handsome young man with a sharp nose, blue eyes, short messy black hair, and an athletic, muscular body, was sitting in the back row, resting his chin on his hand, staring at the whiteboard.
"Status."
"Whoosh!" A red hologram screen opened in front of his face. Casually, with half-open eyes, he read the screen.
=======================================
Name: Dean Wilson
Age: 18
Race: Half Reaper
Level: 30 (2200/20.000)
Power: 6,000
Active skills: Brain control, illusion, vanish, surgery, soul drain
Passive skills: Low presence, hyper regeneration, scythe mastery
Weapon: Death Scythe
Debt: $8,000,000
Soul partner: None
=======================================
"Ugh, not leveled up yet. When will this debt of mine be paid off?" he mumbled.
[Be patient. At least your debt has decreased by 2 million dollars since two years ago.]
"Quest."
"Whoosh!" A smaller hologram screen opened in front of his status screen. He read it.
=======================================
Target: Greg Williams
Age: 50
Occupation: Language teacher
Evil deeds: Rape, abuse, extortion
Victim: Tania (16), Cindi (17), Maria (16), Alexi (18), Gina (16)
Status: Deceased
Reward: 2000 EXP points
=======================================
Applicant data:
Name: Gina
Age: 16
Soul value: $300,000,
Payment: Soul
Status: Paid off
Life status: Deceased
Debt: $8,300,000 - $300,000 = $8,000,000
Quest completed.
=======================================
"Are you sure $300,000 was deducted?" Dean asked.
[Don't try to double-check it.]
"Hehe, sorry," Dean said.
[Because our client couldn't pay, and according to the agreement, she wanted to offer her soul because she had no hope left in life, so we accepted her job and got paid. So, it's normal if it takes a long time; not everyone dares to sacrifice their soul like her. Just be patient, your debt will be paid off eventually.]
"Yeah, I get it. It's just a shame. She was pretty," Dean replied.
[What, are you thinking of making her your girlfriend?]
"Of course not. It's just a shame she was destroyed just like that," Dean said casually.
[That's true, but there are many people like her in this world, and she will be reborn after being processed in my 'belly'.]
"Don't talk about digesting souls in your belly; it's inappropriate, you know," Dean said.
Dean looked towards the window. He took out his smartphone and opened it. He stared at an installed app called "Nightmare Revenge: Instant Guarantee."
"There are many broken people in this world. Just wait for notifications from this app again. Just be patient. Good thing I thought of making an app like this two years ago. NS handles the distribution to users directly," Dean thought to himself.