Reborn a day later, I emptied my enemy's possessions beforehand.

The man's hair was a complete mess, like a bird's nest, he had droopy eye bags, and a stubble beard.

The woman's eyes were red, clearly she had been crying, and she was clutching a cell phone tightly in her hand, her knuckles were white.

When the female employee saw Li Zhigang, tears welled up in her eyes immediately.

"Mr. Li, didn't you tell us to close last night?" Her voice was urgent and aggrieved, almost on the verge of tears.

"You sent a message in the work group saying that all stores would be temporarily closed tonight and that on-duty staff should go home to rest."

We all saw it, and we all did it. This morning when we came to work, the supermarket...it was completely empty.

As she spoke, she handed her phone to Li Zhigang.

The phone screen was still lit, displaying the supermarket's work group chat history. One message was highlighted with a red arrow.

The sender's profile picture is indeed Li Zhigang's, the name is also Li Zhigang's, and even the tone of voice is similar—

Li Zhigang usually likes to use exclamation marks when sending notifications in the group chat, and this message also had three exclamation marks at the end.

Li Zhigang's face turned pale instantly, even paler than before he was beaten and swollen, as white as paper.

His hands were trembling, his voice was trembling, and each word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, indistinct yet carrying a ferocious, almost murderous, intensity:

"Impossible! I was unconscious for a whole day and night yesterday! How could I have sent a message! It was Zhou Haibing! Zhou Haibing took my phone and impersonated me to send the message!"

The female employee glanced down at the work group chat history on her phone screen, then turned the phone over to show Li Zhigang, her voice lowered, carrying a cautious tone:

"Mr. Li, take a look. This is the message you sent last night. The profile picture and name are yours."

Li Zhigang snatched the phone, stared at the screen for two seconds, and then slammed it to the ground with a thud.

The phone bounced on the ground, cracking the screen, but it was still lit up, and the message was clearly displayed on it:

"@Everyone, all stores are temporarily closed tonight. On-duty staff should immediately close the stores and go home to rest. Please reply upon receipt. — Li Zhigang"

Below is a long list of "received" messages, dozens of them, which you scroll up one by one.

Li Zhigang's face turned from white to red, then from red to green, the veins on his neck bulged one by one, and the blood vessels in his eyes were as dense as a spider web.

He suddenly raised his head and roared at the ceiling:

"Zhou Haibing! You bastard! You stole from my supermarket! You stole from my warehouse! Are you trying to kill us all?!"

His voice echoed back and forth in the conference room several times, buzzing like thunder.

Xia Guilan was slumped in her chair, her mouth agape, tears streaming silently down her face, looking like an empty shell from which her soul had been ripped away.

She grabbed Li Zhigang's arm, her nails digging into his flesh, but Li Zhigang seemed not to feel it at all.

Captain Fang remained silent, waiting for Li Zhigang's roar to dissipate in the conference room.

He waited for several seconds to make sure Li Zhigang wouldn't shout anymore before he looked away from Li Zhigang.

He glanced at his phone, and it rang for the third time.

He answered the phone, listened for a few minutes, and this time his gaze swept towards Zhang Wenbin.

Zhang Wenbin was curled up in the chair, his lower body covered by a towel that was already mostly soaked in blood, his face as white as a ghost.

He saw Captain Fang looking at him, his heart skipped a beat, his lips trembled, and his voice was soft and hoarse:

"No...it can't be...my pharmacy, can it...?"

Captain Fang put down his phone, his voice not loud, but every word felt like a hammer blow to Zhang Wenbin's heart:

"Zhang Wenbin, all six of your chain pharmacies and one pharmaceutical warehouse were looted last night."

Medicines, medical equipment, shelves, cash registers—nothing was left.

Zhang Wenbin's tears welled up instantly, not silently, but as he wailed loudly, a hysterical wail that completely disregarded his image.

His face was covered in snot and tears, his mouth was open and he was making "ah ah" sounds. He was twisting and turning in the chair, which aggravated the wound in his lower body, making him cry even harder.

His voice was broken and intermittent, muffled between sobs and whimpers:

"My pharmacy...my life's work...all gone...Zhou Haibing, you're not human...you're not human..."

His voice quickly became hoarse from crying, turning into a raspy, breathy sound, like sandpaper scraping against glass.

But he couldn't stop; he was like a broken machine, constantly shaking.

The meeting room door was pushed open again.

The three employees who came in this time were wearing pharmacy uniforms, two women and one man. Each of them had the same expression on their face—fear, confusion, and a hint of guilt that was hard to explain.

The female employee at the front, holding a cell phone, cautiously approached Zhang Wenbin, her voice soft and low, as if afraid of startling a wounded wild animal:

"Mr. Zhang, last night... it was you who sent a message in the work group saying that all stores should temporarily close for the holiday and that we should go home."

We did as instructed. When I came to work this morning, the store was…”

Before she finished speaking, she handed her phone to Zhang Wenbin, the screen displaying the chat history of the work group.

Zhang Wenbin's profile picture, Zhang Wenbin's name, Zhang Wenbin's tone of voice—

The message was written exactly like the real thing, even the punctuation was the kind he usually liked to use.

Zhang Wenbin usually likes to use ellipses when sending messages, and there were several ellipses in that message.

When Zhang Wenbin saw the message, his crying suddenly stopped.

He stared at the screen for several seconds, then his expression changed from pain to contortion, from contortion to grotesque, and from grotesque to a terrifying, almost insane rage.

His entire face was twitching, his hands were clenched into fists, his nails dug into his palms, and blood seeped out from between his fingers.

His voice seemed to come from hell, low and hoarse, each word sounding like it was being chewed on Zhou Haibing's bones:

"Zhou Haibing—you used my phone to send messages—you stole from my pharmacy—you beat me up like this—you're not human—you're an animal—you deserve to die a horrible death—!"

His voice grew louder and screech, eventually turning into a hysterical scream that pounded back and forth in the conference room, making the windows rattle.

The female employee standing closest to him was so startled that she took two steps back, almost dropping her phone.

No one spoke in the meeting room.

Sun Guiying lowered her head, Wang Jinshan turned his face away, Zhou Dongsheng closed his eyes, and An Baojun leaned back in his wheelchair, his two broken legs trembling incessantly in the splints.

Li Zhigang slumped in his chair, staring at the ceiling; Zhou Hailong clenched his fists, staring at the ground; and Zhao Shuzhen covered her mouth, crying silently.