The Forensic Doctor Better Than a Detective

Director Hou also nodded slightly, his voice serious in agreement.

The group exchanged a glance, then walked uniformly toward the interrogation room.

The door creaked softly as it was pushed open.

Li Tao, sitting with his head down on the chair, seemed to be startled by the sound and snapped his head up to look at the doorway.

Upon seeing several unfamiliar faces, a hint of vigilance flashed in his eyes.

He then indifferently shifted his gaze away, resuming his seemingly relaxed but actually guarded posture.

Jiang An walked unhurriedly to stand before him, studying the man intently with a piercing gaze.

Time passed by the second, yet he never averted his gaze.

Li Tao grew uneasy under his scrutiny and finally couldn’t help but curl his lips in a mocking tone, "Officer, isn’t your gaze on men a tad too prolonged? I don’t have such peculiar interests."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Biao stepped forward half a step, sharply reprimanding, "Watch your language!"

"This is a serious interrogation session, not a place for your flippant talk."

Li Tao fell silent at the words, though a suppressed anger flickered across his face, his eyes suddenly turning sullen.

At this moment, Jiang An suddenly turned sideways, suggesting, "It’s necessary to have him remove all his clothing for a thorough body inspection."

At these words, Director Hou and Director Lu exchanged a glance, reading obvious astonishment in each other’s eyes.

The focus of interrogation had always been psychological tactics and evidence confrontation, so suddenly proposing such a body inspection was indeed beyond conventional investigative procedures.

Even Zhang Biao’s expression shifted subtly, a trace of incomprehension flitting across his face.

However, the three tacitly refrained from questioning on the spot; in such a special setting like the interrogation room, maintaining team trust and unity was of utmost importance.

The most reactive, naturally, was Li Tao himself.

First, he was stunned, then nearly leaped from his chair, his tone mingling disbelief and resistance, "Wouldn’t this be something, sir?"

"A bunch of men surrounding me to take my clothes off? What does that look like!"

Jiang An’s face showed little expression, merely returning his gaze calmly, his voice low but clear, "Very appropriate."

Without time for excess thought, Zhang Biao barked sharply, "Strip!"

Before the words had fully settled, he retrieved a handcuff key from his belt, unlocking Li Tao’s restraints with a ’click’.

Li Tao slowly stood from the interrogation chair, his hands gripping his collar tightly, knuckles faintly white.

Zhang Biao stepped closer, his gaze sharp like a knife, "What, need me to do it?"

He lowered his voice, "If I have to call someone in to help you—it’s not gonna be pretty when the special police come in and drag you out."

At those words, Li Tao closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and finally nodded in resignation, hoarsely saying, "... I’ll do it."

He began unbuttoning his coat, his movements slow, as if extending every detail.

After his outer garment hit the floor, he paused, then followed with his shirt, finally even shedding his underpants.

Completely naked, he raised his eyes to sweep over the people in the room, a near mocking curve on his lips, "Had enough of a look?"

Jiang An approached expressionlessly, his gaze like a scanner meticulously sweeping over his front.

Moments later, he briefly ordered, "Turn around."

Li Tao complied silently, exposing his back, buttocks, and even his lower limbs under the light.

Jiang An inspected with extreme care, even lightly pressing certain areas.

But ultimately—no scars, no suspicious marks.

Director Hou and Director Lu exchanged a glance, undisguisable confusion appearing on both their faces.

This unexpected action by Jiang An was entirely beyond the usual scope of interrogation; they couldn’t quite comprehend what calculations this criminal investigation expert was making.

Nonetheless, based on professional trust in Jiang An’s ability to solve unusual cases, they chose to remain silent.

At such a critical moment, raising questions might instead reveal one’s own lack of perception and instability.

At this moment, maintaining team trust and collaboration was far more crucial than rushing to inquire—even with suspicions in the heart, it was vital to first steady the base and observe changes quietly.

At this very moment, a barely discernible disappointment flickered across Jiang An’s heart.

His real intention in asking the other to undress was neither to humiliate nor to test, but to carefully verify whether there were any defensive or offensive injuries on his body.

Given the circumstances at the crime scene, although the deceased had multiple stab wounds.

But in the instant of a life-and-death struggle, a person in extreme peril will instinctively resist and struggle—wouldn’t such chaotic and intense grappling inevitably leave marks on the assailant?

In other scenarios, Jiang An dared not assert, but from his years of criminal investigation experience, this possibility was very high.

He had dealt with too many cases; many killers thought their plans were thorough, their methods clean, yet during actual implementation, it was often unavoidable to have physical confrontations with the victim, often experiencing a struggle until both sides were totally spent.

Because of this, he wanted to personally confirm the condition of Li Tao’s skin.

However, after carefully examining all around, Jiang An found that Li Tao’s neck, front and back, face, chest, abdomen, back, and even buttocks, the skin was unusually smooth, with no fresh or old wound marks.

Two minutes later, he slowly withdrew his gaze, saying, "You can put your clothes back on now."

Li Tao continued to hang his head low, not responding, just silently bending over to retrieve his scattered clothes beside him.

But at the moment he bowed—Jiang An’s gaze suddenly fixed tightly on his left hand.

The fourth and fifth fingers of that hand were in an unnatural shape, the joints slightly clenched inward, unable to align completely.

Jiang An, being a former forensic expert, having long dealt with human bodies, was as familiar with the orientation of bones, the connectivity of muscles, and the expansion of fascia, as he was with the lines on his palm.

This situation was absolutely abnormal!

Without any hesitation, possible explanations flashed through his mind:

Muscle contracture following trauma, peripheral nerve injury, abnormal healing of an old fracture, or joint stiffness due to long-term repetitive strain...

And in the present context, the most common and logical explanation was, muscle or tendon contracture due to trauma.

Thinking of this, Jiang An immediately spoke, "Show me your left hand."

Li Tao’s movement noticeably paused.

He raised his eyes, a flicker appearing in his gaze when meeting Jiang An’s before shifting aside, a hint of hesitation in his voice, "Do you really have to look at a man’s hand too?"

"Of course, it has to be checked."

Jiang An leaned forward slightly, his tone more resolute than before, commanding, "Spread your palm open, stretch out your five fingers as much as possible—I need to examine closely."

At this scene, Director Lu, Director Hou, and Zhang Biao became even more puzzled.

He said, firstly there was no blood, secondly, there was no cut, what was he going to look at?

Nonetheless, the three merely glanced at each other, none raising a question.

Li Tao’s lips softly moved, seemingly wanting to argue something, but after glancing at the several officers observing quietly beside him, he swallowed the words back down.

He slowly extended his left hand, his arm appearing rather stiff, as if somewhat reluctant to expose this imperfection to others.

Sure enough, while stretching, the fourth and fifth fingers appeared particularly strained, unable to fully straighten, always maintaining a slightly bent posture.

The skin in the area was taut due to the underlying tissue contracture, even forming shallow depressions at the joint connections, as if something lightly pulled from within.

Jiang An stepped forward, placing his hand on Li Tao’s fingers, gently applying force to open them against the back of the hand.

On the side of the palm towards the fingers, two faint scars, almost blending with the skin tone, became visible.

Perhaps due to the passage of time, the edges of the scars were somewhat blurred, the color nearly matching the surrounding skin, but the overall constriction of the fingers was clear, signaling the existence of an old injury.

Seeing this, Jiang An immediately looked up, directly at Li Tao, "How did your hand get injured?"

"Where did you get this injury?"

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