American comic book: I, with my abundant martial virtue, love to do good to others.

The technician immediately pushed over the portable structural scanner and scanned the base of the wall, the cover plate, and the area behind it layer by layer. The screen quickly showed discontinuous color patches. Normally filled walls should be uniformly dense, but this area in the image behind it had a very strange transition zone—not a void, nor solid, but more like the material structure had been temporarily reorganized in a certain direction, leaving a section that had now been re-densified, but with a texture completely different from the surrounding area—a "seam."

Jason stared at the screen: "Like a wound healing."

"It's like being pushed aside and then smoothed out," Blake said.

The engineering consultant turned pale: "This is impossible..."

"Nobody thought there would be a hole in the vault floor until yesterday," Jason said casually.

Lynn stood up: "Make this section of the wall a priority. Sampling, thermal imaging, residual energy spectrum, all of it."

The technician immediately got to work.

Blake stared at the wall and murmured, "So someone really did... go through here?"

"It's not about wearing it in the traditional sense," Lynn said. "It's more like using the structural weaknesses left by the old shaft to temporarily open up a path that's just big enough to pass through."

Jason asked, "Then why was there a big hole left in the vault?"

"Because that entrance isn't meant for 'people' to walk through completely." Lynn's gaze fell on the scanning screen. "It could also be an anchor point for the unfolding of abilities. Actually opening the hole, retrieving the item, and sealing it off is a different operation altogether."

"You still think there should be at least two people."

"right."

Just then, a reply came from the branch office.

Jason answered the phone and put it on speakerphone. The caller was analyst Samantha, her voice rapid: "We've found Adrian Cooper. Former security integration consultant at Morningbridge United Reserve, specializing in mechanical and access control compatibility. After leaving, he took on two small municipal outsourcing projects and disappeared a month ago. What's even more interesting is that three years ago he was briefly investigated for participating in the calibration of illegal and anomalous equipment, but he was released due to insufficient evidence."

Blake immediately cursed, "Just as I expected."

“And another thing,” Samantha continued, “we found a nickname in his contacts, ‘The Mole.’ It’s not his official name, but it’s been used twice in underground circles, and the description is ‘the ability to turn a blocked-off place into a road.’”

Several people in the room looked at that wall at the same time.

Jason chuckled, but there was no hint of relief in his smile: "See, finally someone's starting to speak like a human being today."

Lynn asked, "Are there any photos?"

"There's no front view. There's only a bar surveillance video from six months ago, showing his back, wearing a work jacket, and his left leg is slightly uneven."

Are there any other related abilities?

"Currently, we've only heard rumors that 'The Mole' doesn't work alone. He's usually accompanied by someone who's responsible for picking locks and cutting intricate structures. Their code name might be 'Needle' or 'Sewing Master.' Different sources have different accounts."

Blake slapped his thigh: "Alright, the duo has a name now, even though they're both awful."

Lynn said, "Send me all their possible locations, black market transactions, and underground clinic contacts from the past two years. Especially those related to municipal maintenance, old building renovations, and unusual metal cutting."

It's currently being integrated.

After hanging up the phone, Jason looked at Lynn and asked, "And now?"

"First, separate the internal bank leak chain from this pair of partners, then find the intersection," Lynn said. "Adrian is in charge of the system and legacy information, 'The Mole' is in charge of clearing the way, and the other is in charge of fine-tuning or locking down the system. The problem is—"

"Why did they choose this bank, and these specific items?" Jason continued.

"right."

Blake crossed his arms: "Maybe because it's valuable."

"There's so much valuable stuff," Lynn said. "High-purity gold, industrial diamonds, sealed bonds, five private chests—it wasn't random greed. It was more like taking what was meant to be taken."

Jason nodded: "Industrial gold and uncut diamonds are easy to resell and suitable for manufacturing certain equipment. Bonds can be used for money laundering. Private accounts are the hardest to identify; they might be the real targets."

Lynn looked at Blake: "As soon as the private case client list comes out, give me their professional background information immediately."

"You suspect they came for people?"

"I suspect that at least one of the boxes wasn't opened for money."

The fans in the equipment floor corridor were still humming softly. Three people stood at the base of the wall in the scanned area, none of them speaking. The sky outside was getting brighter, but this floor had no windows, and the light seemed to remain stuck in a grayish-white hue, oblivious to dawn or dusk.

Lynn glanced at his watch: "Get Adrian Cooper urgently. Municipal outsourced vehicles, old building maintenance teams, underground anomaly intermediaries—mobilize them all. And—"

He paused, as if remembering something, and turned to Jason, saying, "Last night, look for people with uneven left legs and who walk with their weight shifted to one side in that white repair truck in the back alley of the bank."

Jason has already sent a message: "Sent."

"Also," Lynn said, "give Raphael's and The Tailor's black market leads a copy. Just cross-reference them, don't merge them."

Jason glanced at him: "You still think it's possible we'll run into each other."

"I think any pair of exceptionally skilled professionals like this will eventually get involved with a major network," Lynn said. "The only question is who they'll be working for."

Blake interjected, "Don't tell me your Raphael line is all about picking people, potions, and going deep underground again."

Jason smirked. "You don't want to know the details?"

"I can tell from your expressions that you're no good."

"You should know now that you've seen the cave."

Just then, someone rushed upstairs. It was a young officer from Blake's unit, still out of breath: "Detective, the preliminary list of private safe deposit boxes is ready."

"Speak," Blake said, turning around.

"In section C, there are two individuals: a businessman who imports rare minerals and a distributor of collectible watches. In section E, there is one legal representative of a small biomaterials consulting company. In section G, there are two individuals: one is a private family trust agent, and the other—"

The officer glanced at the paper, his expression somewhat subtle.

"What else?" Lynn asked.

"The other one registered is an independent ethics consultant, named... Rachel Moran."

The corridor suddenly fell silent.

The fan was still running, but for a moment everyone seemed to only hear that one name.

Jason was the first to react, slowly turning to look at Lynn: "Did you hear that?"

"I heard you."

Blake frowned. "Isn't Rachel a girl's name?"

Lynn had already reached out and taken the paper.

The registration information was simple: private safe deposit box G-17, registered under the name Rachel Moran, occupation: independent ethics counselor, account opened two years and seven months ago. The contact phone number was invalid, and the contact address was a short-term rental business address in Midtown Manhattan.

Jason chuckled softly, his voice even colder in this situation: "What a coincidence. So coincidental it makes my teeth ache."

Blake looked at the two of them: "Stop keeping me in suspense."

Lynn handed him the paper: "Last night we found a fake identity in Raphael's line that appeared at the Shell Clinic three years ago. The name was Rachel. The identity category was also External Ethics Consultant."

Blake stared at the words, his face slowly darkening. "You mean, that bastard we were investigating last night, the one who might be selective about who he's looking at, suddenly appeared on the stolen goods list this morning using the same fake identity?"

"At least they're the same type with the same name and shell," Jason said. "There are plenty of people in this world named Rachel, but there aren't just a few who would use 'ethics consultant' as a cover."

The young police officer looked completely bewildered: "Then...then this bank case..."

"From now on, it's not just a banking case anymore," Lynn said.

When he said this, his voice was not loud, almost as flat as usual, but Blake still saw the coldness that had been suppressed in his eyes completely sink down in that instant.

At the end of the corridor, a technician pushed an equipment cart past, the wheels making a series of soft sounds as they rolled over the floor tiles. The old paint on the walls was slightly yellowed in the white light, and that seemingly sealed-off wall still stood quietly, as if nothing had ever happened.

But the name on the paper had already dragged another line into the picture.

Jason spoke first: "Either these are Raphael's men coming to retrieve the boxes, or Rachel's shell identity is simply their channel for funds and materials. Either way, the bank is no longer just an isolated theft."

"Don't let the list leak out yet," Lynn said, "especially this name."

Blake nodded immediately: "I'll have the area sealed off. Anyone who asks will be told the private box is still at the nuclear facility."

"We'll check the account opening footage, the staff member in charge, and anyone who ever had contact with G-17," Lynn said. "We'll go through everything, even old surveillance footage from two years ago, archived photos, and signed cards."

"What if the bank says the storage period has expired?"

"Then let them pray I'm in a good mood today," Jason added.

Lynn had already turned and was walking downstairs: "Let's go back to the vault first. I want to take another look at the relationship between the cave entrance and the location of Zone G."

Jason followed up: "You think what they were really after last night was Rachel's suitcase?"

"Possibly," Lynn said. "They might also take other valuables along with it, making it look like a regular high-end theft."

As Blake walked, he asked, "Could your Raphael be this Rachel?"

"It's not certain yet," Lynn said. "But if a key figure responsible for 'watching people' has acted as an ethics advisor and has deposited something separately in a bank, then what he deposited wouldn't be some trivial souvenir."

Jason smirked. "Maybe it's a list."

"Maybe it's a sample," Lynn said.

"Can't you say something that's a little more appetizing sometimes?"

"You were able to eat a sandwich just now."

"That's because I didn't know Rachel had popped out of my private compartment."

When they returned to the second basement level, the lights in the vault were still blindingly bright. There were more staff inside than before, and two more technicians specializing in checking lock marks had appeared in the safe deposit box area. Section G had been marked separately, and the door to the row of boxes containing G-17 was open, empty except for dark velvet lining and a few fasteners.

Lynn walked over and stood in front of the empty box for a few seconds.

"Pry marks?" he asked.

The technician shook his head: "There was no traditional prying. It's as if several key teeth of the lock cylinder were simultaneously misaligned from the inside, and the mechanical structure moved aside on its own within a second. The precision is very high; it can't be done with ordinary brute force."

Jason leaned against the side: "So the name 'The Tailor' is starting to sound right."

"Are there any traces of the original items inside the box?" Lynn asked.

"The initial screening showed trace amounts of paper fibers and a very faint residue of resin sealing wax, as if the sealed document bag or small sample box had been placed there," the technician replied.

Lynn asked, "Can you determine the volume?"

"At most, it's not big, maybe the size of one or two palms."

Jason looked at the box: "For this, they went to the trouble of a whole double burglary, cutting through the bank floor, creating a four-minute gap in the surveillance footage, and even taking the gold and diamonds as a smokescreen. If it were just documents, those documents would be worth a fortune."

"Or it's a matter of life and death," Lynn said.

Blake, listening nearby, felt a chill run down his spine: "You guys usually chase after this kind of stuff?"

Jason chuckled. "Otherwise, why do you think we all have such short lifespans?"

Lynn ignored it and slowly walked back to the cave entrance along Section G. He stood at the edge of the cave and took one last look at the empty box area, the high-security storage cabinets he had opened, and the location of the vault door, as if he were replaying those four minutes from last night in his mind.

"If it's two people," he whispered, "one of them would first clear a path at the weak point of the old shaft in the equipment layer, creating a phase passage window. The other, after entering the warehouse, wouldn't go directly along the shortest straight line, but would first open G-17, then retrieve the three public high-value items, and then scan the five private boxes. Finally, the two of them would return to the entrance, seal it off, and exit."

Jason continued, "The advantage of doing this is that anyone who sees it at first glance will think the main target is something valuable. The private case becomes convenient."

"right."

"But here's the problem," Blake said, "why not open the high-value boxes first, then the private cases? Is the order important?"

Lynn looked at him: "If the G-17 contains things whose presence must be confirmed first, then it's important."

Jason looked up: "So, they're not sure if the box is still there."

"Hmm," Lynn said, "So last night that group didn't just come to steal, they came to 'retrieve' or 'verify.' The valuables and other personal items were just there to cover up the smell."

Blake said in a deep voice, "What the bank leaked in advance wasn't necessarily 'where it's valuable,' but rather 'G-17 is still there and was operational last night.'"

Lynn nodded.

Just then, Jason's phone vibrated.

He glanced at the screen, raising an eyebrow: "Another message from the branch. Last night, the Boston case research assistant in the Raphael line recovered an encrypted memo from an unsent email draft attachment. The keywords included 'external safekeeping,' 'M box,' and 'Rachel should not be allowed to access the transit list alone.'"

Blake immediately cursed out loud.

Lynn held out her hand: "Send it to me."

Jason retweeted while muttering, "Do you still want to separate these two cases now?"

Lynn's eyes grew colder as he looked at the fragmented recovery text that had just appeared on the screen.

"We won't merge the cases yet," he said. "But from now on, we'll treat them as highly related to the same blockchain."

"What I mean is that starting today, we need to find the mutant thief who can carve paths through walls, track down a screener who uses his ethics advisory identity to hide things, and figure out if what he took from the bank was a transfer list," Blake summarized.

Jason patted him on the shoulder: "Welcome to today's job."

Blake slapped his hand away: "Get out." (End of Chapter)