Lei Mi - Profiler

He jumped up and knocked all the books off his shelf, then fell dejectedly back onto the bed.

"Son of a bitch…" he said beneath his breath. As he closed his eyes, a tear dropped down his face and onto his pillow.

Tai Wei looked at the books scattered across the floor, and then at the frail young man lying on the bed before him. Now that he knew the real reason Fang Mu was feeling so down, he couldn't help but feel a measure of respect for the stubborn bastard.

Love and duty. No emotions were more precious than those.

Tai Wei stood up, studying the dejected student on the bed. Bending over, he slowly picked up all the books, blew the dust from their covers, and then placed them neatly back on the bookshelf. When he finished, he sat beside the bed. He fixed his eyes on Fang Mu.

"Kid, get up and eat!"

His tone was firm and absolute. All traces of his previously comforting manner were gone.

Noticing this, Fang Mu opened his eyes and looked at him.

Tai Wei didn't avoid his gaze at all. In his eyes, Fang Mu read the trust and encouragement.

As if he was giving a pistol to a diehard partner, Tai Wei placed a spoon in Fang Mu's hand.

"Partner," he said, "we've got to keep going. I don't know how many more victims he's planning on killing, but we need to do everything we can to stop him before more people die. Don't think any more about the ones who have already gone. When you're dead, you're dead; you feeling guilty is not going to bring anyone back. This is your fate, Fang Mu. Great power demands great responsibility, and it's useless to try and hide from it. Catching the killer is the best consolation you can give to his victims. But before all that," he said as he placed the food in front of Fang Mu, "at the very least, you need to not starve to death!"

Fang Mu looked at the food before him. It was still steaming a little. He looked at Tai Wei. The man's expression was deadly serious.

For several seconds the two of them stared at each other in silence. At last Fang Mu took the plate of food and began to eat ravenously.

Damn, that's delicious, Fang Mu thought.

When he finished eating, Fang Mu leapt out of bed and stretched. The tightness in his chest relaxed with each breath and his whole body felt much more alert.

He then summarized some of his recent thoughts for Tai Wei. Even though he had been lying in bed, tormented by anger and guilt for the past day and night, he had still been closely analyzing the details of the case. His mind had not been idle. As he saw it, the reason the killer was targeting him had to have something to do with one of the cases he had helped solve. Even though Tai Wei had not asked his permission before contacting the Changhong City PSB, Fang Mu agreed that at present it was their only feasible lead.

"And as for the numbers," he added, "I believe they have some special significance."

"Oh?" said Tai Wei, his tone curious. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but from the five distinct crimes that have occurred so far, there have already been six victims. However, the numbers left at the crime scenes have only been one through five," Fang Mu said. "I found this strange when I first noticed it, because if the numbers corresponded to the victims, this would demonstrate that the killer was showing off and trying to provoke us. But what does it mean if the numbers actually correspond to the crimes themselves? It means that the killer doesn't care about the number of victims killed, but rather the number of crimes committed-or in other words, the number of people he has copied. With this line of thought, this number is most likely fixed, meaning that the killer probably already knows exactly how many people he is planning on copying.

"Because," Fang Mu paused, "if this is a test, then like all tests, it must have an end, at which point it will be determined whether or not I've passed." He looked calmly at Tai Wei and smiled.

Seeing the smile on the kid's lips, Tai Wei felt chilled to the bone. Since he was young, Tai Wei had experienced his share of tests, but none had ever made him feel as thoroughly terrified as this one.

To imagine taking a test where every answer had to be written with a pen dipped in blood was both terrifying and daunting. If answered correctly, then the test was over and everything was okay. But if anything was answered incorrectly, then one person was going to disappear from the world. And it probably wouldn't just stop at him or her.

And more terrifying yet, before they had even realized it was a test, each of the first five questions had been crossed out with a bloody X. They would never have the chance to get those questions correct.

"In that case," said Tai Wei, "what's the total number going to be?"

"Seven, nine, eleven," Fang Mu said, deep in thought. "It has to be an odd number. It's unlikely to be eleven, because that would make the crimes go on for too long. He's probably anxious to face-off with me, and I doubt he's patient enough to wait until then. Seven." He nodded thoughtfully. "Seven seems to be the most likely."

"Why seven?"

"I'm a psychological profiler, so I think he wants to have a bit of a psychological competition with me. And in psychology, seven is considered an unusually attractive number."

"Attractive?"

"That's right. For example, when it comes to remembering strings of numbers, people are generally able to remember one or two less or one or two more than seven. From five to nine, in other words. After nine, most people's memories become hazy. So when people try to remember fairly long chains of numbers, such as pi, for instance, they often break them up into groups. In addition, there are many notable parts of human history that happen to involve seven, such as the seven days in a week, seven notes in the diatonic scale, seven colors in the visible spectrum, seven deadly sins, the seventh…" Suddenly Fang Mu stopped talking and the color drained from his face.

"The seventh what?"

"Oh, nothing." Very quickly Fang Mu's expression returned to normal.

Tai Wei lowered his head, as if he were considering something. After some time, he looked up. "Fang Mu."

"Yeah?"

"What were you just about to say?"

Fang Mu stared at him for several seconds. Then he smiled. "I don't know. If I really am part of this test, then I must be the last part. And if I'm not part of it, then my time's going to come immediately after it's over. In short, I can't escape."

Seeing the calm look on Fang Mu's face, Tai Wei didn't know what to say. The kid was discussing his own murder in the same manner as one might discuss football or the weather or some other totally inconsequential topic. It was absurd.

Tapping the gun on his waist, Tai Wei said slowly, "I won't let anything happen to you."

Fang Mu smiled indifferently. "I hope that's the case. But like you said, this is my fate. If I really am meant to die, then there's no avoiding it."

He walked to the window and looked out. Through the frost that was already covering the glass he could vaguely make out the streetlights below, as well as the students who passed beneath them, talking and laughing loudly.

"Death," said Fang Mu quietly. "Actually, heaven has already been looking after me."

Then with one by the bed and the other at the window, the two men in Room 313 lapsed into silence. Fang Mu looked outside and Tai Wei looked at Fang Mu.

The light through the window gave him a slightly golden silhouette. After a while, Tai Wei got up and stood beside him.

"Assuming you're right," said Tai Wei slowly, "then there's still two more." He looked out at the darkening campus. Even now it was still buzzing with life.

After a long time, Fang Mu spoke. His voice was soft and sounded as if he were speaking only to himself.