Transmigrated into a female-oriented novel, and put an end to the domineering CEOs all over the city

The room was quiet. The assistant stood beside her, holding a photo album, trying to keep her breathing as soft as possible.

He had no idea what Mr. Mo had been observing.

He had also inspected the room; it was unremarkable, with no unusual traces.

But now, as he watched Mr. Mo looking around, a bizarre thought popped into his head: could there really be some unseen words written on this carpet?

Mo Yan stood up, looked around, and finally landed on the floor next to the door.

He walked over and squatted down.

There are faint scratches along the edge of the door, the color of which is almost blended into the wood grain of the floor, but if you look at it against the light, you can see that the marks are slightly reflective.

This is the residue left by the friction between the soles of the shoes and the floor when a person is being dragged.

Moreover, judging from the depth and spacing of the marks, the person's body must have been supported by two people, one on each side, leaving the person unable to exert any strength.

The feet can only weakly push off in mid-air, and the shoes have to be wiped again and again to leave this intermittent trail.

More than once.

Mo Yan stood up, his face still expressionless, and looked at the desk.

There was nothing on the desk or in the drawers except for a small desk lamp.

Mo Yan narrowed his eyes slightly.

After a moment, he stepped back, scanned the room again, and went over everything once more.

Finally, his gaze settled on the bedside table near the window.

The gap between this bedside table and the wall is about one centimeter different from the gap between the bedside table and the wall on the right.

He stepped forward and dragged out the bedside table.

There was a piece of floorboard under the bedside table, almost the same color as the floorboard next to it, but Mo Yan walked straight over to it.

Because there was a tiny bit of ink on one of the seams.

He squatted down on the floor and gently tapped it with his knuckles.

"Thump."

Then he changed the adjacent floorboards and knocked again.

"clatter."

The sound was half a beat lower than the one next to it.

He stood up, but didn't rush to start. He just turned to his assistant and said, "Find some tools, something that can pry it open."

The assistant was stunned for two seconds before suddenly realizing what was happening, his mind in turmoil.

He watched as Mr. Mo examined the bed sheets, squatted down to feel the carpet, and checked the crack in the door. Finally, he actually started banging on the floor.

Is there some secret passage in this room?

That's outrageous!

But he didn't dare say anything more, turned around and ran out, and soon came back with an extremely thin flathead screwdriver.

Mo Yan took it and gently pried at the edge of the board.

The floorboards were lifted up.

Below was a very narrow compartment, under which, amidst dust and a few pieces of wood shavings, lay a white, soft-covered notebook, barely larger than the palm of your hand.

There was also a very ordinary black ballpoint pen stuck next to it, the cap of which was loose.

Mo Yan reached out and picked it up.

He first wiped away the dust from the cover bit by bit with his hands before opening the notebook.

There were only a few lines of text inside.

The handwriting was neat at first, but it became lighter and more scattered as it went on, as if the writer had lost strength.

"He's angry again."

"I know I won't be able to get out of bed again tomorrow."

"But I still want to run away tonight."

"If I can't escape, I won't admit it."

"I was caught again. He beat me all night. My body hurt so much, but I had to endure it. It really hurt, more pain than I've ever felt before."

"The sun is out, I really want to go out and soak up some sun."

Mo Yan lowered his head and remained silent for a long time.

He turned to the next page:

"He caught me again, and this time, he broke my leg."

"They always say that things will get better soon, but how long exactly?"

Next page:

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry."

"Cousin, I'm sorry."

"Senior, I'm sorry."

"I'm so tired."

"I wish someone could save me."

"But would there really be such a person?"

"I have no family left."

"open……"

The character "张" was only half-written; the last stroke was not completed.

Beyond that, only a tiny speck of ink remained, like the hand that held the pen, lingering too long on that character before she hurriedly took the pen away.

Mo Yan stared at the unfinished character, his Adam's apple bobbing very slightly.

Next, the last sentence:

"I received a cell phone today, was it a prank by him?"

Then, the rest of the notebook was completely blank.

Mo Yan slammed the notebook shut and closed his eyes.

His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to call out that name, but in the end no sound came out.

He just squatted there, maintaining that posture, without moving for a long time.

Outside the window, the light of the setting sun had already sunk below the horizon, and the room gradually darkened.

The assistant stood at the door, waiting silently.

It was unclear how much time had passed before Mo Yan slowly stood up.

He carefully placed the small notebook into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"Where are the Bo family members being held?" he asked, his voice already somewhat hoarse.

The assistant quickly replied, "The outskirts of the city, warehouse number 10."

"Call everyone over now," Mo Yan said without glancing at the room again, walking faster and faster toward the door.

"I believe that someone will eventually find out where this cold-hearted man has gone."

"Yes."

……

Warehouse No. 10 in the suburbs is located around a remote factory in the suburbs. Although it is called Warehouse No. 10, it is actually not small.

This warehouse had actually been abandoned for a long time; no one ever came here.

But tonight the lights are on here, and there are two rows of people in black suits standing at the entrance, all wearing masks.

Inside the warehouse, all the lights were on.

A dozen or so men and women from the Bo family sat on chairs, all of them bound hand and foot, their mouths taped shut, only able to make "woo-woo" sounds.

They looked around in terror, their bodies trembling.

Mo Yan, wearing a black hood and black sunglasses, slowly walked in.

A dozen or so men in black suits followed behind him, parting from both sides of the entrance.

He stopped in front of them, lowered his head and tucked the corners of his hood behind his ears, then slowly scanned the rows of faces on the ground.

Good evening, everyone.

His voice was muffled by the hood, but you could still hear a hint of gentle laughter in it.

"I've invited you all here today for no other reason than to ask you about someone."

"Cold-blooded".

"You guys should all know each other well, right? I only have one question: where did he go today?"

The warehouse was quiet; no one spoke.

Mo Yan seemed to have just remembered, and gave a soft "Oh," before raising his hand to beckon.

Several men in black suits stepped forward and ripped the tape off the men's mouths.

As soon as they opened their mouths, one of the middle-aged men burst into tears:

"Big brother! Big brother! Please don't kill me! I have money in my account! I'll give you money! As much as you want! Just name a number! Ten million! Fifty million! Anything is fine! Anything is fine!"

Several others nearby also realized what was happening and rushed to help:

"Yes, yes, we'll pay! Any amount will do!"

"Don't kill me! I don't want to die!"

"Big brother! I'm from the Bo family! I'm rich! You can't kill someone like me!"

Mo Yan stood there, listening quietly.

When their voices had grown hoarse from shouting and gradually subsided, he slowly spoke: "I have plenty of money. Tonight, I don't want any money."

He took a few steps forward, squatted down, and looked the middle-aged man who was crying the loudest at eye level.

"I only want one answer: Where has Bo Liang gone?"

The man, who looked to be in his fifties, was Bo Liang's father. His face was streaked with tears, and he was trembling uncontrollably.

"I don't know! I really don't know! Bo Liang, he's not close to us! He rarely sees us!"

Mo Yan tilted his head and didn't say anything.

The others quickly joined in the shouting:

"We really don't know!"

"Bo Liang, he hardly ever even sees his own father! How could he possibly tell us where he went?"

"Yeah, yeah, we don't know anything!"

"Every wrong has its perpetrator, every debt its debtor. I'm willing to sponsor you 50 million. Go find him, don't come looking for me..."

Mo Yan slowly stood up and glanced around again.

Then, he slowly began to put on a pair of white gloves that had been prepared beforehand.

As he put on his gloves, he said casually, "It's alright, no rush."

"Tonight is long, I can ask you slowly. You can come one by one and tell me everything you know."

"As long as everyone says the same thing, I guarantee that everyone will be able to return home safely."

After he finished speaking, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

Two men in black suits immediately stepped forward and lifted the nearest young man off the ground like a chick.

The man was so frightened that he kicked his legs wildly on the ground and made "woo-woo-ah-ah" noises, but he couldn't spell a single word out.

Mo Yan turned around and walked towards the small room at the very back of the warehouse.

Suddenly, he stopped at the doorway, turned his back to the outside, and slowly straightened the edge of his gloves.

"I forgot to mention the rules."

"In a little while, if anyone's answer doesn't match up with someone else's..."

He suddenly pulled a gun from his lower back.

"That's how it ends."

The gun fired as soon as he finished speaking.

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out, and a person closest to the wall who had just been secretly rubbing the rope suddenly had a round hole in his head.

The man froze on the spot, his eyes rolled back, and he slumped into his chair.

This scene caused all the Bo family members in the warehouse to widen their eyes and forcefully swallow the screams that were about to erupt in their throats.

His face was filled with fear.

They never expected that this ruthless bandit would actually not care about human lives at all!

At this moment, Mo Yan turned his head.

He was still wearing that black hood, so you couldn't see his face, his eyes, or his expression.

"Did you understand?"

After saying that, he stepped into the small house.