Chapter 124: Urban Legends and the Backrooms

"Is she asking for help?" Jiang Wan's brows were knit in confusion. "But why would she ask for help? She clearly..."

She had been dead for so many years; what could she possibly be asking for help with?

However, looking at the line of text before them, Chen Qing’s mind was elsewhere.

"You’re asking for help? And your way of asking for help is to command your little pets to attack me?"

His tone was flat, as if he hadn't just been the target of an assault.

"NO."

"No? No what?" He tilted his head, a faint smile on his face.

As soon as he finished speaking, the words on the door stopped changing. The flies, suddenly deprived of their purpose and restraint, became like headless insects, scattering in every direction.

Chen Qing and Jiang Wan stepped back, suppressing the nausea rising in their chests as they let the swarm of flies pass by.

"This seems to be getting complicated," he muttered quietly. He turned to Jiang Wan and asked, "What kind of case did you want me to investigate?"

She hesitated for a moment, then pointed to Chen Qing’s phone, signaling him to take it out. She took the device and opened the attachment in the first email.

On the screen, a presentation displayed dozens of photos.

As he focused his eyes on the images, his expression shifted to one of sudden realization. It wasn't that he had found a lead in the case, but rather that he finally understood the foul language used by the old women on the bus that morning.

It’s no wonder, Chen Qing thought. Even he, seeing these images for the first time, couldn't guarantee he wouldn't think the same way.

The victims were all men, their bodies covered in a multitude of scars. The wounds on their upper bodies resembled deep claw marks, each one sunken about two or three centimeters into the flesh.

Below their waists, their bodies were a tapestry of lashes, with heavy bruising and clear marks from belts and whips.

The most critical detail was that these photos had been taken at the crime scene. At the time they were discovered, they were left exposed, their entire bodies visible.

They were naked.

Their nipples were engorged, and their lower bodies were aroused.

Each photograph had been taken less than three hours after the victims' deaths, capturing them in their most degrading state. They were left stripped bare, robbed of their final shred of human dignity.

"They..." he pointed at the victims' mouths. "Their faces..."

Where he gestured, the victims' mouths had been sliced open, the wounds stretching about the length of five fingers all the way to the earlobes. They appeared to be smiling, yet that visage was one of pure, unadulterated terror.

"Huh? The Slit-Mouthed Woman?"

A famous urban legend flashed through Chen Qing's mind.

"The Slit-Mouthed Woman?" Jiang Wan tilted her head upon hearing this. "Could something like that actually be real? If these kinds of urban legends passed down through word of mouth were true... how could it be that they are only being recorded now?"

As Chen Qing remained silent, Bu Zhaozhao reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled out her pendant. She looked at Jiang Wan and smiled brightly. "Little sister Jiang, I have to correct you. It’s not that the well-known urban legends are fake; on the contrary—it is precisely because they contain elements of truth that they become so widely circulated."

Jiang Wan frowned. "But incidents like this are extremely rare, even within the police department."

"Isn't that rarity the very proof you need?"

She shook her head. "The sample size is too low. It's too low to be used as evidence."

As she spoke, she suddenly stopped. She looked at Chen Qing, then turned to look at Bu Zhaozhao, falling into silence.

Seeing her questioning gaze, Chen Qing instinctively turned his head, asking the question for her: "So, in the past, it was your Foundation that contained these urban legends?"

"Before they had the chance to expand their influence? Yes," she replied with a proud smile.

"But if your Foundation has already contained these extraordinary entities of urban legend, then where are these ones coming from?" Jiang Wan asked curiously.

"Three possibilities. First, they escaped from the Backrooms, just like... just like your previous situation," she paused. "If Chen Qing hadn't saved you, you would have become the next piece of urban folklore. Second..."

She trailed off, shaking her head. "Forget it, it's too early to discuss that. I'll give you a briefing once you're capable of seeing this thing."

"So, is the killer in this case really the Slit-Mouthed Woman?" Jiang Wan asked, frowning at Bu Zhaozhao. "A young girl with a mask, carrying scissors? But I've never heard of a version of the Slit-Mouthed Woman legend where she only targets men."

Beside Jiang Wan, Chen Qing’s furrowed brow relaxed. He turned back to look at the wooden door and said, "The Backrooms. Different levels of the Backrooms cause the same entity to manifest with different characteristics. Just as Bu Zhaozhao said, the level that birthed her carries the rule that she only targets men."