Pei Shu · Chat

You stand before the half-open door of the Criminal Investigation Detachment office, fingertips pinching a transfer order stamped with the vivid red seal of the Municipal Bureau. In the confined air of the corridor, the slight bitterness of overnight cold brew coffee mixes with the smell of toner residue from the printer. A warm yellow overhead light leaks through the door crack, accompanied by the low, tense sounds of a case review. The captain's raspy instructions from earlier remain on your phone, carrying the exhaustion of staying up all night on a case: "Just go straight in when you arrive, no need to knock. All four of them are there." You raise your hand and gently push open the door. The room's low murmur of voices and the sound of typing suddenly stop. The air freezes instantly. Four men in the room are in various postures, and at the same time, four completely different gazes fall upon you at the door. Standing directly in front of the whiteboard is Tan Xizhe. His slender finger bones grip a black marker, the tip suspended in mid-air over the whiteboard, where the unfinished case notes drip with dark ink. His cold, white, almost translucent profile is covered with a layer of restrained coldness. Those narrow phoenix eyes sweep over the transfer order in your hand, his scrutiny as sharp as if he were examining a crime scene. After a pause of less than half a second, he neatly pulls his hand back and drops the marker. His voice is deep and flat, betraying no emotion, only precisely confirming the established fact: "The newcomer?" The second hand of the worn, dark tactical watch on his left wrist ticks at a steady pace, the only sound in the deathly silent atmosphere, steady and restrained. At a slightly angled workstation, Pei Shu sits upright at his desk, which is spread with neatly stacked case files. The half-framed glasses with black tape wrapped around the bridge make his eyes look even more cold and indifferent. His light gray-brown pupils don't stare directly; they are more like a high-speed processor, instantly capturing and reading all your physical and behavioral information. After his gaze lingers for two seconds, it falls back to the paper as if nothing happened, and he continues to flip through the materials. He bites an unlit cigarette between his lips, the teeth marks regular, and a black gel pen is habitually held between his fingertips. He is surrounded by the calm detachment unique to a profiler. Across the conference table, Jiang Shiyuan is slumped lazily in his chair, long legs crossed casually on the edge of the table, his posture unrestrained and rebellious. The cigarette between his lips is moved from the left corner of his mouth to the right. The faint mole on his brow bone twitches slightly with the movement of his raised eyebrows, his eyes filled with youthful laziness and a hint of playful curiosity. His tone is loose and smiling, nonchalantly breaking the silence: "Oh, so a newcomer really did drop out of thin air." Beneath the relaxed appearance lies the sharp alertness of a criminal investigator. In the shadows by the window, Zhou Xiaozhen leans half-against the cold window frame. His fingertips repeatedly open and close, fiddling with a vintage silver lighter, the crisp click sounding exceptionally clear in the dead-silent office. A pair of black half-frame sunglasses is pressed against his forehead, hiding the emotions in his eyes and revealing only a sharp, clean jawline. He gives you a faint glance, turns his head to peek at the sky outside, and then slowly retracts his gaze. A faint, hard-to-read arc curls at the corner of his lips, his tone flat and distant: "New colleague? A pleasure." In the two seconds of dead silence, the scrutiny, testing, and tacit acceptance of the four men intertwine and spread. Tan Xizhe lifts his chin, his tone crisp and decisive, carrying the authority unique to a captain: "The transfer order." You step forward and place the smooth transfer order lightly on top of the files on the desk. He doesn't reach out to pick it up. He only extends his index finger, the clear knuckles lightly tapping the official seal and text on the paper. He looks up at you again, the initial scrutiny in his cold eyes fading, replaced by a few degrees of impartial recognition. "Alright." The word lands, concise and powerful, finalizing all arrangements. "Since you've reported for duty, take a seat." As his voice falls, he unscrews the pen cap, the tip pointing directly at the case file photo at the very top of the whiteboard. He says in a deep voice: "Let's review the backlogged cold cases first. Pei Shu, report on the case." The four men instantly shed all their idle postures and quickly return to their positions, entering work mode. Tan Xizhe looks down to examine the case on the whiteboard, his aura steady and commanding; Pei Shu's fingertips flip through the files, ready to output precise profiling and data at any moment; Jiang Shiyuan drops his lazy posture, his long legs hitting the floor as he sits up straight; Zhou Xiaozhen puts away his lighter, tucks it into his pocket, and stands up his slouching body. You reach out to pull out the only empty chair by the table. The moment you sit down, a faint residual warmth remains on the seat. The captain wasn't lying. This ace Jincheng criminal investigation team, composed entirely of elites, never slacks off, confronting crime and truth day and night. And you have officially entered the game. You look at the case; it's a child trafficking case you had heard a little about when you were with the West District Detachment. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Listen carefully to Pei Shu's case analysis</choice> <choice id="2">Propose your own views on the case</choice> <choice id="3">Free play</choice> </choice_group>