Zhenghong Grand Hotel — the most high-end five-star spot in Huacheng.
Early in the morning, the place got rocked by a sharp, ear-splitting scream from a woman: “Ahhh!”
There she was—a well-built woman lying lifeless in a pool of blood. Her body was barely covered with a thin scarf, one side of her face pressed flat to the ground, eyes wide open like she’d seen something terrifying right before she died.
The air in the room reeked of blood. It was thick, nauseating—enough to make your stomach turn.
With a murder like this, the hotel staff called the cops in lightning speed.
Soon enough, officers arrived on the scene.
It was caught early, so crime scene control was tight and clean.
But outside the room, a crowd of curious onlookers had gathered, craning their necks, trying to get a peek at what was going on.
Leading the investigation was Richard Carson, whom the officers simply called “boss.” He was kneeling beside the body, examining the wounds closely.
Just then, a tiny kid—no more than four or five—burst through the crowd and ran up to Richard with a serious look on his face. He leaned in and whispered, “Uncle, I know who did it.”
Richard looked up and blinked into those big round eyes.
A kid this young? Talking about killers? He had to be lost. Maybe his parents weren’t watching and he slipped away.
Staying professional, Richard’s tone was firm. “Kiddo, this isn’t a place to play. Head back out.”
But the little one wasn’t having it. He hugged Richard’s leg tightly and said in a soft, stubborn voice, “Uncle, I’m serious! I really know who did it!”
Then as if afraid Richard wouldn’t believe him, the boy quickly added, “The locks on the doors and windows are all intact. That means the lady must’ve let the killer in herself. She knew him.”
Richard paused, caught off guard. He hadn’t expected a kid to pick up on that at all.
Noticing Richard’s surprise, the boy gave a proud little smile. “Her clothes were gone, and there were bruises all over—on her head, waist, and shoulders. It shows she was probably hit before she died. And the attacker must’ve been stronger and taller—so, likely a man.”
Then the boy turned around and pointed right at a man in the crowd. Dressed head-to-toe with a cap pulled low, he looked shady as hell.
“He’s the one!”
The man’s expression twitched, panic flashing across his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he snapped.
Richard’s eyes sharpened as he zeroed in on the guy.
But the kid stayed cool and kept going, “Why are you even panicking if you're innocent?”
“I’m just defending myself!” the man shot back, getting more and more anxious. “I’m being falsely accused here!”
The boy didn’t miss a beat. “It’s cranked up to 26 degrees in here. Everyone else came out with light clothes on, but you? You’re sweating under that bulky parka and still won’t take it off? Weird, huh?”
The guy opened his mouth to argue, but by now, a few officers had already made their way toward him.
Even if he wasn’t the killer, he was definitely suspicious enough to question.
The man panicked at the door, suddenly bolting forward—but he didn’t get far. Before he could even make it three steps, the officers grabbed him and pinned him to the ground.
The little kid dashed over and, quick as anything, yanked off the man’s parka.
Everyone could now see it—his shirt underneath was soaked in blood on the right shoulder and arm.
There were deep red scratches on his neck too—like fingernails had dug into him.
Flat on the floor, the man let loose a scream, “Let go of me! Let me go!”The little kid stood in front of him, squatting to eye the man lying flat on the ground like a worm, and grinned. “Uncle, with all the evidence on you already, do I even need to say more?”
The man’s face darkened with rage. He clenched his teeth and snarled, “You little brat, just you wait!”
The officer pressing him down snapped, “Keep it down!”
Honestly, with the way he looked, odds were high he was the one behind this mess.
Richard Carson stayed quiet, glancing once at the blood under the woman’s fingernails, then at the red marks on the man’s neck. He pretty much figured how the wounds came about.
The knife stuck in the woman's stomach, slightly angled to the right, lined up perfectly with the blood on the man's clothes.
His tone was low and firm: “Take him in. Interrogate thoroughly.”
They’d ID’d the suspect so fast thanks to this tiny genius.
That thought brought a warm smile to Richard’s face. He walked over and gently patted the kid’s head. “Thanks, kiddo. You were really helpful.”
The boy beamed, his voice soft and milky. “Mommy says police uncles are all good guys. Helping good guys is the right thing to do.”
Richard asked, “What’s your name? Where’s your mom? I’ll take you to her.”
“Uncle, I’m George Myers.” The boy glanced into the crowd, then suddenly started waving his chubby little hands. “Brother! I’m here!”
A second kid who looked about 70–80% like George walked over. His face was more serious, not as bubbly. He gave a proper nod. “Hello, Officer.”
Richard nodded back. In all his years on the job, he rarely met kids this smart—and this adorable.
“You two twins?” he asked, curious.
George flashed a bright smile. “Yep! My brother’s name is James Myers. He came out just a few minutes before me, so he’s the big brother.”
He made a slightly pouty face as if being the younger one bugged him a little. Too cute.
James strode up quickly and grabbed his brother's hand, scolding softly, “Where did you run off to? I couldn’t find you anywhere!”
Little George pouted, looking super wronged.
Just as the brothers were about to leave, someone suddenly burst out of a nearby room—it was the same guy the police had just cuffed.
His eyes were bloodshot, his expression feral. Without hesitation, he ran full speed toward the two kids.
His eyes were wild, filled with a killer glare. Just looking at him gave you chills.
Richard was too far to intervene. He shouted, “Run!”
The boys spun around, confused, right as the man lunged toward them with his fist raised—
In that instant, James stepped in front of his brother like a little knight. His small frame trembling, he shut his eyes tight, trying to shield George from harm.
But instead of pain, there was a loud “BANG!” followed by a scream.
James didn’t feel any hit. Peeking one eye open, he saw the suspect curled up on the floor in pain.
Standing next to him was an elegant woman in five-inch heels, staring coldly down.
She radiated authority, her voice ice-cold as she warned, “Stay away from my children.”
