I was being dismembered when my wife Ashley Fenn was out buying gifts for her old flame.

I grunted into the phone, desperate for help. "Another one of your tricks?" She scoffed, hanging up, "Get lost! Don't bother me even if you're dead!"

Seven days later, she was knee-deep in solving a brutal dismemberment case.

She speculated that the killer, with a knack for eluding detection, exhibited extreme brutality, deliberately taunting law enforcement.

Little did she speculate that the shattered remains belonged to her most despised husband.

After reducing me to pieces, the murderer brazenly dumped me in the police station sewer, triggering a day-long search through the putrid tunnels.

Then, my body was pieced together over three grueling days.

But my left ear and arm were missing.

Police suspected a calculated act of vengeance.

Ashley, the youngest and only female captain in the detective squad, had cracked numerous tough cases.

Upon seeing my corpse, her team was visibly shaken.

Ashley frowned, face pale but resolute, suppressing her disgust.

The coroners briefed them, detailing my ordeal.

"Autopsy reveals the victim, male, aged 22 to 25, died from severe blood loss.

"Bindings on wrists and ankles, multiple contusions, blunt force trauma to the head causing severe cranial fractures and deformities.

"Additionally, cancer cells are detected in the victim, who was subjected to inhumane torment before death."

Officer Barry Dent slammed the table.

"This is a massacre of unprecedented brutality!"

The officers seethed.

"Such cruelty screams revenge!"

"What kind of vendetta leads to such a brutal act against a cancer patient?"

"Outrageous! Dumping the body right under our noses. It's a direct challenge!"

Ashley stared fixedly at the report.

She said, "It's them."

Instantly, a somber silence fell upon the room.

She was referring to a vast transnational criminal syndicate that haunted every officer's mind.

Countless comrades fell in their pursuit.

After a decade of relentless pursuit, the syndicate was finally dismantled three months ago.

Therefore, this case was highly likely done by a remnant of the criminal syndicate, who was seeking revenge and intentionally provoking law enforcement.

A detective entered with a shoebox-sized package.

"Ms. Fenn, another delivery from Leo..."

At the mention of my name, Ashley's expression soured.

"From now on, anything he sends, toss it. No need to bother me."

Barry sighed, patting her shoulder.

"You still can't let go after all this time? Leo wasn't to blame for what happened to your dad... He was a victim too..."

As he spoke, he opened the box, revealing a transparent jar inside.

Ashley took it out. The sight within drew gasps from everyone.

Ashley loosened her grip, and the jar crashed to the floor.

It was a model of a severed arm.

Even as it hit the ground, it remained unchanged, even bouncing slightly.

The coroner swiftly bagged the model hand, glancing at it once and drawing a conclusion.

"It's fake."

"He's playing these tricks again to get my attention. Lunatic!"

With one sentence, she condemned me.

But this wasn't something I arranged.

Perhaps even the police thought sending a fake arm was too extreme, as they remained silent.

Barry sighed, "Leo doesn't seem like the type to pull this kind of prank. Could there be a misunderstanding? It's been a while since you've been home. Maybe you should go back."

Ashley sneered, saying, "Hmph! What's there to misunderstand? He sent this thing over to deliberately remind me that arm was severed for me as if I owed him something!

"He's a person of lies, all to manipulate me for his gain.

"Even if his hand was truly lost for my sake, so what? I could never be with him. He's not deserving!

"I feel disgusted just seeing him! It'd be better to focus on the deceased, find more clues, uncover the identity of the dead, and solve the case quickly."

As I was floating in the air, a dull ache filled my chest.

I thought, "So, in her eyes, I'm repulsive, unworthy of being with her.

Then who is worthy?

Her ex-lover, perhaps?"

I had once told her my wound was worsening and facing the possibility of amputation. Thinking of this, Ashley casually tossed the prosthetic into the nearby trash.

Later, she pulled me out of her blocklist on her phone, speaking with an icy tone.

"You think threatening me with this arm will work? It just makes me see you as less than an animal!

"Give up hope. Even if you're dead, I won't spare you a glance!"

But I was already dead.

I never lied to her.

That dismembered body was me.

Ashley and the detectives gathered around a whiteboard covered with photos of my dismembered body, each image annotated with their analysis and speculations.

The key ones were circled.

"No match on the deceased's DNA for identification, indicating no criminal record."

"There haven't been any missing persons matching his age and height recently."

A detective asked, "How could someone just disappear like this without any family looking for him?

"Or does he have no family?"

Ashley mused, circling the words "left arm" on the board.

"We can't confirm the identity of the deceased. If we find that missing left arm, maybe we can find something to identify him," she said.

Meanwhile, I crouched by the trash can, desperately trying to lift the prosthetic arm, but my transparent hand passed through it, forever unable to touch it.

I thought, "The clues you're looking for are right here in this prosthetic arm.

But now you've tossed it away."

Ashley then wrote "dismemberment scene" and circled it.

There was little blood in the sewer, suggesting it was just a dumping site.

Usually, killers dismembered corpses in familiar or perceived safe places, often returning to the crime scene.

Finding where this happened could break the case wide open.

"We've searched the sewer thoroughly, but found no sign of the left arm or remaining body parts."

"That means the killer didn't dump those parts here."

"But why dispose of the body separately? This part likely holds key identifiers."

Ashley paused, frowning as she stared at the "left ear" on the board.

Instinctively, I touched my left earlobe, where a small red birthmark rested.

Ashley knew this mark well from the times she used to pinch it playfully.

A detective said, "The killer tortured him for days before brutally killing him. There's a vendetta involved, possibly against the victim or his family."

"Revenge..."

Another detective glanced sharply at Ashley.

"Ms. Fenn, could the killer be someone from a criminal group we've cracked down on? Maybe they held a grudge and targeted him to provoke us.

"But that doesn't add up. No one from our precinct has reported a missing family member. And if someone did disappear, why wouldn't they file a report?"

Ashley's brow twitched momentarily as if a thought had struck her.

But she shook her head dismissively, denying her own suspicion.

I thought, "Ashley, did you just think of it?

I once told you about my health issues.

But you only saw it as jealousy towards your ex-lover, thinking I lied about my health to win your sympathy.

Unfortunately, you've missed another crucial lead."

When it came to cops that criminals hate the most, Ashley topped the list.

If she weren't so indifferent to me and went home to take a look, she would definitely find the clues I left for her.

Ashley hesitated briefly, then dove back into work, organizing the detectives into small teams.

One team conducted interviews to check if anyone had a missing family member.

Another team searched for the initial crime scene and any remaining body parts.

A third team visited hospitals as the victim had cancer; if he sought medical help there, the hospital records should show it.

Additionally, experts were enlisted to reconstruct my skull.

By applying principles of anatomy and facial bone structure, along with data on my facial tissues, they would sculpt skin, hair, and features on a soft plastic model.

Once my skull was reconstructed, they could match it with ID records in the public security system to confirm my identity directly.

However, this skull reconstruction process would take some time.

Ashley rubbed her temples, looking weary.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed.

She pulled out her phone. A gentle smile appeared on her face when she saw the caller ID.

"Ashley, I think I saw a suspicious figure outside the window..."

"Where are you now? Okay, don't move. Lock the windows, turn on all the lights, and wait for me to get back!"

After she had finished the call, she checked the time. It was almost 10 p.m.

"Everyone, go home and rest for now. We'll discuss further matters tomorrow."

My heart ached instantly.

Ashley was a workaholic, often disappearing for days on end when she was focused on a case. So, I never dared to disturb her.

But now, just one call from her old flame could make her drop everything and rush back to be with him.

In her heart, I would never be as important as him.

I drifted along with Ashley until we arrived at a house.

It was her residence from her pre-marriage days.

Ironically, I only learned in death that the supposedly rented place was housing him, Bruce Wayne, Ashley's old flame, and the hostage she rescued from criminals three months ago.

For these past three months, she must have been staying here with him.

The thought tugged painfully at my heart.

Bruce suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. Ashley feared for his safety and dreaded retaliation from the criminals who sought the rescued hostage.

So she sped through the half-hour drive in less than twenty minutes.

She dashed to the door of the house, her voice trembling.

"Bruce?"

I had only seen this kind of panic on her face when her father passed away.

Bruce curled up in the corner of the couch. Upon hearing Ashley's voice, he rushed forward, enveloping my wife in his arms, clearly struggling to contain his fear.

Ashley stiffened slightly, reaching out, then hesitantly returned the embrace.

She stroked his soft hair, murmuring, "It's okay. I'm here..."

Bruce relied heavily on her, his voice tinged with hurt. "Where did you go? I thought... you didn't care about me anymore..."

Ashley explained calmly, "There was a dismemberment case today. The autopsy results came out today. So, I've been busy."

Bruce blinked as he released his hold on Ashley's hand.

"Oh? Did you find any clues?" he inquired.

"Well, the victim was a disabled male, a cancer patient. It appears to be a targeted killing, but the victim's identity is still unknown, and there are no solid leads yet," Ashley replied.

"A disabled person... how pitiful," Bruce muttered with feigned sympathy, but his eyes gleamed with hidden satisfaction.

His hypocritical facade made me sick to my stomach!

It was clear he was fishing for information.

Once tight-lipped in front of me, Ashley now seemed defenseless against Bruce.

Was this the difference between love and indifference?

Because she loved him, her former unattainable flame, all her principles seemed to fade away in his presence.

Ashley seemed eager to share with Bruce, saying, "The killer brutally dismembered the victim, so we suspect it could be an act of provocation from someone who escaped capture three months ago."

Bruce gasped, visibly shaken. "That's... terrifying. Have you found out who it is yet?"

Ashley replied with concern, "Not at the moment.

"It's likely the work of the criminals' associates, and I fear they might harm you if they know you're alive.

"Stay indoors, and call me immediately if anything seems off."

Bruce nodded before changing the subject.

"Ashley, you come here every day to keep me company. He... won't be pleased, right? After all, he's your husband, and he wasn't happy before..."

At the mention of me, Ashley's expression turned cold in an instant.

She glanced at Bruce with a soft look as though afraid of upsetting him.

"Why bring him up? If not for him, my dad wouldn't have..." Ashley trailed off, furrowing her brow.

"You should rest now; it's getting late."

"But I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I think of that day..." Bruce confided.

"Don't worry., I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, then I'll leave."

Floating above, I watched Ashley comforting Bruce at his bedside with gentleness in her eyes that I had never seen before.

I thought, "They seem so compatible.

I, on the other hand, am always just an outsider.

Yet Ashley, the one you currently protect so diligently, is a demon in disguise..."