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

Captain Fang heard the commotion next door while in the interrogation room, but he ignored it.

His gaze was fixed on Kong Zhiqiang's face, his voice steady but carrying an undeniable pressure: "You asked too?"

"I asked." Kong Zhiqiang nodded, adjusted his glasses, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

He said he bought it for a friend. He didn't say what it was for or who his friend was.

I've known Haibing for so many years, and he's always been a very tactful person. If he doesn't want to talk about something, asking him won't help.

Captain Fang wrote down the numbers Kong Zhiqiang mentioned, his pen leaving marks on the notebook.

His brow remained furrowed, like a tightly locked lock.

He looked up at Kong Zhiqiang, his voice lowering:

"Where is the warehouse located? What about the security cameras?"

Kong Zhiqiang leaned forward slightly, his lips moved, and his voice was a little dry, as if he were talking about something that made him uncomfortable:

"The warehouse is behind the hardware market in the east of the city, the kind with its own separate entrance and courtyard. The surveillance cameras... the surveillance cameras are turned off."

He told me in advance to turn off all the surveillance cameras in the warehouse, and I did as he said.

There were no security cameras in the warehouse last night.

Captain Fang didn't speak. He wrote down the information, then stood up, walked to the door of the interrogation room, and called over another police officer. His voice was steady, but his speech was noticeably faster:

"Notify the video team to add another location. Check the surrounding surveillance footage of the warehouse behind the Chengdong Hardware Market, at the same time as before, to see how Zhou Haibing moved the goods."

The police officers responded and left.

Captain Fang sat down again, his pen landing on the notebook, and turned to Liu Changhe.

Liu Changhe sat in a chair, his bald head reflecting the light under the fluorescent lamp.

His hands were crossed on the table; his fingers were short and thick, and his nails were neatly trimmed.

His expression was more relaxed than Hao Yuzhu's and Kong Zhiqiang's, but there was still an undisguised tension in his eyes.

Captain Fang's pen touched the paper, his voice steady:

"Liu Changhe, what did Zhou Haibing want with you yesterday?"

Liu Changhe's voice was deeper than his appearance suggested, carrying a mellowness and sense of propriety characteristic of a businessman:

"He ordered a batch of general merchandise from me. He picked up the goods from the warehouse yesterday evening."

"What department store?" Captain Fang's pen was already waiting on the paper.

"Furniture, appliances, fabrics, clothing, mobile phones, computers, and some daily necessities." Liu Changhe's tone was calm, as if he were reporting a routine shipping list.

"127 pieces of furniture, 346 appliances, 5,600 meters of fabric, 2,300 pieces of clothing, and 920 electronic products."

Mobile phones, tablets, laptops... are all available...

Captain Fang's pen moved quickly across the paper, writing down every single number.

His brows hadn't relaxed since then, like a deep furrow etched on his forehead.

He raised his head, his gaze fixed on Liu Changhe's face, his voice not loud, but every word carried a heavy weight:

"How much?"

Liu Changhe lowered his voice, as if he was reluctant to say the number:

"A total of 261.45 billion."

This time, the reaction in the adjacent conference room was not as intense as the previous two times.

It's not because the number isn't large enough, but because everyone has become numb to the bombings.

Sun Guiying slumped in the chair, barefoot in men's slippers, her toes curled, her mouth open, her eyes staring straight at the ceiling, like a computer that had completely crashed.

Wang Jinshan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his face expressionless, but it wasn't calmness; it was a blankness of being temporarily unable to react after being hit to the extreme.

Zhao Shuzhen had stopped crying, or rather, she couldn't cry anymore. She sat in the chair with her hands hanging at her sides, tears still falling drop by drop, but without making a sound.

Zhou Dongsheng had his eyes closed, his chin resting on his chest, and the scars all over his body were shocking under the light.

Zhang Lijuan leaned on his shoulder, her eyes red and swollen like two peaches.

Sun Guiwu slumped in his chair, Ma Hongxia leaned against him, their hands clasped together, their knuckles turning white.

Zhou Hailong lowered his head, his shoulders no longer trembling, replaced by a deathly silence.

Zhang Wenbin closed his eyes, tears silently sliding down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto the blood-stained towel.

An Baojun leaned back in his wheelchair, his lips stopped trembling, and he looked like a stone statue.

Li Zhigang slumped in his chair, Xia Guilan leaned against him, and neither of them moved.

Captain Fang wrote down the last number in his notebook, put down the pen, leaned back in his chair, and remained silent for a few seconds.

His gaze moved from Hao Yuzhu to Kong Zhiqiang, then from Kong Zhiqiang to Liu Changhe, and finally settled on the three lines of numbers in the notebook.

The three numbers together make up a staggering total amount.

"You three," Captain Fang's voice was neither loud nor soft, spoken slowly, each word seeming to have been carefully chosen before being uttered.

"Everyone asked Zhou Haibing why he bought so many things, and his answer was always the same—he was buying them for a friend."

He didn't tell you who your friend was or where the project was. He told you to turn off the warehouse surveillance, and you all did.

He took over 700 million yuan worth of supplies from you, and then you could no longer contact him.

is that so?"

The three of them were silent for a moment, then nodded almost simultaneously.

Captain Fang did not immediately continue asking questions.

He lowered his head, his gaze falling on the densely packed notes in the notebook—

Those numbers, those times, those surveillance cameras that were turned off, those warehouses that were emptied.

All the evidence points in the same direction, but all the details tell him one thing:

Zhou Haibing is deliberately destroying all traces of himself.

Turning off the warehouse surveillance means that no one can see how those supplies were transported away.

But if they weren't even transported, where did those things go?

Hundreds of tons of fertilizer, dozens of agricultural machines, thousands of pieces of furniture, hundreds of electrical appliances, and thousands of electronic products—not just one or two packages, but goods piled up in several large warehouses.

These things cannot simply disappear into thin air.

Just as he was about to put down his pen, the door to the interrogation room was pushed open from the outside.

A police officer in uniform walked in; he was from the Economic Crime Investigation Team. He was holding a folder and had a serious expression.

He walked over to Captain Fang, bent down and whispered a few words in his ear, then handed him the folder.

Captain Fang took it, opened it, and scanned it from top to bottom.

His expression didn't change much, but his fingers tightened around the folder, and his knuckles turned slightly white.

He paused for two seconds, closed the folder, stood up, and walked out of the interrogation room.