America: The Cremator

Suron turned and walked to the dining table. After pulling out a chair and sitting down, he summoned the clay sculpture of Elena from the mark on the back of his hand.

Now, this clay sculpture has become his only channel of communication with the outside world.

Morse code, the most basic yet most effective cipher, is the fastest way to send messages outward.

In Morse code, simply outputting three short, three long, and three short signals at a specific frequency is enough to transmit an "SOS" emergency signal to the receiver.

Su Long's gaze lingered on the exquisite curves of the clay sculpture, pondering the placement of his finger.

If the area being touched isn't sensitive enough, Elena, who is busy, might simply ignore it.

If the area touched is too sensitive, Elena might overreact and wouldn't be able to calmly interpret the information.

He needs a middle ground, a sensitive area that doesn't overstep its boundaries.

Finally, Su Long's gaze settled on the clay sculpture's back, deciding to focus on the area between the lower back and buttocks. This area was densely packed with nerves, sensitive enough, and definitely not a place where one might accidentally experience a similar sensation from clothing friction in daily life.

Su Long took a deep breath, extended his index finger, hovered the fingertip at the lower back of the clay sculpture, and then gently lowered his fingertip, tapping continuously according to the pattern of "three points, three strokes, three points".

……

Meanwhile, in Seattle, at the Federal Building Annex.

This building, which was originally built in the 1970s, is the Seattle headquarters of the Federal Bureau of Paranormal Responsiveness.

Inside the building, old telephones rang incessantly. Employees in work uniforms were either busy confirming the situation with the callers, summarizing the case details, or discussing the progress of the case. The air was filled with the smells of coffee, tobacco, and resentment from working overtime.

In a private office, Elena sat behind her desk, her brow furrowed, a thick stack of preliminary investigation reports on the "Dream" drug lying on the table.

"Ta-da!"

The urgent knocking startled Elena from her thoughts. She looked up at the door and saw an analyst standing there, so she habitually asked, "What is it?"

The analyst handed over a stack of documents, his expression grave, and said, "Captain, these are the latest results of the source tracing."

"The situation is much worse than we anticipated. There are as many as nineteen shell companies that we can currently track down that have had large-scale financial transactions. These companies are registered from Vancouver to Tijuana, covering the entire West Coast."

Elena took the document and quickly flipped through the dense data and charts, analyzing, "In other words, they've established a complete underground sales network. This scale is definitely not something an ordinary gang could achieve; there must be multinational capital or... something even more complicated operating behind it."

The analyst nodded and pointed to the third page of the report, where there was a blurry surveillance screenshot taken in the unloading area of ​​a port warehouse.

"And here, although the image quality is very poor, if you look closely at the movements of these porters..."

Before the analyst could finish speaking, an extremely strange sensation came from Elena's lower back without warning, causing her body to stiffen abruptly.

The distinct sensation was like a cool finger gently poking her lower back.

Once, twice, three times.

Elena instinctively straightened her back, trying to get rid of the sensation, but the "finger" did not disappear. Instead, after a brief pause, it began to slowly press against that sensitive skin.

The forceful dragging sensation climbed up her nerve endings, instantly making her hair stand on end.

The analyst noticed her unusual behavior and asked in confusion, "Captain? What's wrong? You don't look well."

Elena gritted her teeth and replied, "It's nothing, I'm probably just too tired."

She abruptly stood up from her chair and ordered, "I'm going out for some fresh air. You continue organizing the data. I need to see a more detailed logistics analysis in ten minutes."

After saying that, she grabbed her phone from the table and strode out of the office without looking back.

Elena finally relaxed when she reached the corner of the stairwell, leaning against the cold wall, her breathing rapid.

The lingering sensation on her lower back not only didn't disappear, but became more regular and persistent, and it moved closer and closer to her buttocks!

"Suron, you damned bastard..."

She cursed under her breath, her fingers trembling as she unlocked her phone, dialed the familiar number, and sent it.

All that came through the receiver was a monotonous, cold, and irritating busy tone.

"Sorry, the number you dialed is not in service area..."

Out of service area? How is that possible!

Just then, a new wave of tactile sensations swept over us.

This time, the feeling seemed even stronger.

The invisible finger pressed down hard on her lower back, then slid down, almost touching the edge of her coccyx.

The aggressive touch made Elena blush instantly, her legs went weak and she almost fell to the ground. She quickly reached out and grabbed the wall next to her to support herself.

She could almost picture the man grinning mischievously as he fiddled with the damned clay sculpture, treating this prank as some kind of amusement.

She pressed the redial button again, but there was still no response and the dial tone remained.

"Answer the phone... answer the phone, you bastard!"

Elena's fingers tapped frantically on the screen, switching to the text messaging interface. She quickly typed a string of words containing various curses and threats, and just as she was about to press the send button, her gaze swept over the history of messages she had sent.

"Contact me immediately if there are any unusual circumstances."

Elena's finger hovered over the send button, and the anger that had surged to her head was instantly cooled down as if doused with a bucket of cold water.

Although Su Long has a terrible personality and likes to test the limits of danger, he is not a fool without any sense of propriety.

Especially when he's busy with a case, he certainly wouldn't use this method to play a prank.

Unless... he can't speak.

Unless... it's the only thing he can do.

Elena took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, and carefully felt the sensation coming from her lower back.

Dots, dots, dots.

Short, clear, three times in a row.

pause.

paddle—paddle—paddle—

Heavy, drawn out, three times in a row.

pause.

Dots, dots, dots.

Three short, three long, three short.

S……O……S……

Elena suddenly opened her eyes, quickly straightened her slightly disheveled clothes, and strode back to her office.

She walked straight to her desk, picked up the internal line, and said in a deep voice, "Connect me to the Operations Department."

"I am Elena."

"Get the 'Black Chess' task force assembled within five minutes, fully armed, with demolition equipment and all weapons."

"We've got work to do!"

Five minutes later, downstairs at the Federal Bureau of Odds and Ends, six fully equipped members of the "Black Chess" task force boarded the team's exclusive panda armored vehicle, led by Elena.

After quickly checking the vehicle's condition, the team member in the driver's seat asked, "Captain, where are we going?"

Elena fastened her seatbelt and said, enunciating each word clearly, "South Park District, 3402 South Jihua Street!"