Chapter 65: Immediate Arrest

Wen Du arrived at the Police Bureau office once more. The officer on duty recognized her and led her straight in, kindly reminding her, “Captain Du is in a meeting right now. She might be a few minutes late.”

Du Lengding had a stack of cases on her plate and was in high demand—multiple teams needed her time, leaving her with precious little to spare. Yet both women agreed that a meeting today was essential. Each had vital information to share.

Two days later, the office had undergone a subtle transformation. The fake flowers on the desk had been replaced with real ones: a cluster of violets peeking from a vase, their stems gently bowing as if offering their delicate blooms and faint fragrance to anyone nearby.

Wen Du sat beside the violets, using the wait to organize her thoughts once again.

She had done the same before meeting Xia Lie, but Xia Lie’s mind leaped from topic to topic, her ideas sprawling freely and pulling Wen Du along for the ride. They often abandoned their prepared scripts, chatting freely until matters were settled—a relaxed vibe fitting a florist and her customer.

Du Lengding was different. From her personality to her demeanor, she radiated strict control over time. And given their circumstances, they couldn’t chat alone for long. Both bore dual responsibilities, so they had to make every moment count.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Du Lengding entered with a stack of files. She wasn’t in uniform today—just a plain white short-sleeved T-shirt tucked into loose slacks. She looked like she’d just returned from fieldwork, hadn’t had time to freshen up, and had gone straight to the meeting room. Now that it was over, she was back to tend to her guest.

“Not long. I just arrived.” Wen Du even considered pouring her a glass of water to ease them in.

“Director Wen, you must have something important to share. Please go ahead.”

Straight to the point, yet polite. Wen Du appreciated it.

“By rights, Zi Qin and Zi Cen’s release from the camp was due. They have no further value now, so they should be returned to the labor training camp in Meisi. But the Special Action Department shows no sign of action. They’re still locked in the holding cell, with no word on what comes next.”

Wen Du had held out hope. If the Special Action Department sent the Zi Qin sisters back, she could leak the info to the Jili Organization. If the Jili Faction rescued them, the girls might have a shot at survival.

The two had proven remarkably tough. Even under Ji Tingxi’s death interrogation, they’d kept their mouths shut, never revealing the site’s location. The organization’s side had botched it instead, withdrawing early and exposing their presence.

Moreover, the Merle assassination lingered as a knot in Wen Du’s mind. If the Special Action Department escorted the sisters back to Meisi, she could use the opportunity to probe who had leaked the wind.

Du Lengding nodded. “They’re probably factoring in safety risks. Things have been unstable in Merle and Meisi City lately, with the Jili Organization active. They might fear another incident after return. Handling them on-site is the safest option for the Guard Institute.”

That on-site handling was complicated.

Lately, Wen Du had been watching closely: Had the Investigation Section shipped out any fresh corpses? Any young women among them? In the process, she’d realized more sharply that observation was all she could do. To avoid suspicion, she couldn’t intervene.

“Our Institute Director He De has been teaming up lately with Bai Zhuo from the Special Action Department’s External Investigation Section on some secret task. Ji Tingxi isn’t involved, but she’s not idle either—she’s been poring over our old decryption logs and pulling files from the General Affairs office. I’m worried she’ll start suspecting you.”

Du Lengding handled criminal cases, especially those involving Sern people. Whether homicide or suicide, Sern deaths were logged in General Affairs files for workload planning and headcounts.

Wen Du made the connection easily enough.

“She’s already onto me. She went to the funeral home yesterday morning, asking about missing corpses. Director Luo Le was already suspicious of me, and her questions led him straight to the fake-body scheme.”

Wen Du was stunned. She’d expected Ji Tingxi to follow up, but not this quickly—not straight to questioning the funeral home staff.

And with such a major issue brewing, Du Lengding remained utterly composed. She spoke of it with cool detachment, as if Ji Tingxi suspected Luo Le, not her.

“He’s been threatening you, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. He claims the commission we paid was too low and is demanding fifty thousand upfront.”

“When? I have some on hand if you need it for emergencies.”

“No need. Online transfers leave traces. I’ll handle the money.”

Du Lengding spoke crisply, exuding her usual steadiness. Wen Du felt reassured but couldn’t resist a reminder.

“Alright. Let me know if you need any help from me. As for Ji Tingxi, she’s tough to shake once she locks on. But fortunately, I’m in the Guard Institute, so I can keep tabs on her movements and relay any updates promptly.”

Du Lengding glanced up. Technically, she was the subordinate here, meant to assist Wen Du. Yet Wen Du, barely keeping her own head above water, was worrying about her?

“It’s fine. Prioritize your own safety first—you’re likely her main target.”

Wen Du paused, then shook her head.

“She can’t touch me yet. She’s hunting for other openings. Luckily, Institute Director He De has no time for her.”

“Right, you mentioned He De and Bai Zhuo sticking together these past few days. I have a lead: Members at Snake Mouth Bay spotted a Guard Institute operative staking out the area yesterday. They tailed him. The target was a tourist from Kangman named Kuper.”

“Snake Mouth Bay…” Wen Du’s antennae went up—this was a key focus area. “What did he do to draw such attention?”

“He was photographing by the riverbank. After some selfies, he pulled out a camera and asked passing travelers to snap pics for him.”

Wen Du fell silent for a moment, her lashes lowering as thought gleamed in her eyes.

“Behind Snake Mouth Mountain lies the labor training camp. From the rocky shore near Snake Mouth Bay, you can glimpse a corner of its wall. Its location isn’t marked, but it’s no secret. Does a tourist snapping photos there warrant Institute Director He De personally tailing him?”

“Exactly why it’s suspicious. If possible, infiltrating behind Snake Mouth Mountain is the most direct approach.”

—And the most dangerous.

To track the labor camp, the Giel Organization had set up a station in Snake Mouth Bay Park. They knew full well that mountain paths into Snake Mouth Mountain passed three security gates: headcounts, ID checks, full vehicle inspections. Land infiltration was nearly impossible without an air drop.

“This Kangman tourist has piqued the Guard Institute’s interest, so his identity and actions must be shady. Like us, he might be probing the truth behind Snake Mouth Mountain. We could glean useful intel indirectly from him.”

“Right. We need to track that camera of his closely. If we can, find a way to get it.”

That made Kuper a prime target for both the Guard Institute and Giel. After hashing out specifics with Du Lengding, Wen Du glanced at the time as they wrapped up enthusiastically. She pulled out the pending materials. Time for “business.”

“This drug ring is mulling ingredient swaps for their shipments. Still in comparisons—lots of chemical elements, so it’s tricky. But it shouldn’t impact your ops much. I’ve marked the technical terms.”

Du Lengding skimmed it swiftly, her gaze sweeping the pages. “So this is the cost of cultural dictatorship.”

Officials banned Sern language, but criminals didn’t care—they exploited whatever kept them safe. Now language gaps were gumming up investigations.

Wen Du smiled faintly. “That gap is our edge too. Like those Sern-language files in the Guard Institute—they all funnel through me for verification.”

With the handover done, Wen Du rose to leave. At the door, she turned back.

“Oh, Officer Du—thanks for the flowers. That was thoughtful.”

The violets in the vase seemed to brighten at the praise, their petals unfurling vividly from core to tip.

Wen Du had noticed them the moment she arrived—this specially arranged bouquet.

Perhaps infected by the floral scent, Du Lengding’s expression softened. For the first time, she smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

…

Near Snake Mouth Park stood a five-star hotel in a serene setting. Heading toward downtown took you past the museum and theater district—a prime pick for flush tourists.

Kuper was one such well-heeled traveler. His tour group mates crammed into a homestay; he had branched off solo to this idyllic haven for elegance and leisure.

He was supposed to rejoin the tour group today, but North County’s cultural charms held him captive. He begged a day off from the guide, slung his camera bag, and wandered the streets. First, the ancient architecture cluster on Dawn Road, then a spin through Gourmet City.

The Guard Institute’s investigation team had prepped to intercept at the tour’s North County base during outbound checks—to inspect his camera. But Kuper veered off last-minute, lingering in West City.

The team dispatched two field operatives: Bai Zhuo and Yuena, shadowing him from afar to ensure he didn’t slip away.

Sudden invisible bodyguards—top-tier treatment. Oblivious, Kuper ducked in and out of shops, sampling cuisine or snapping food pics. His backpack visibly bulged; he pocketed “samples” from each.

By one in the afternoon, hunger hit. He settled into the famed Xileng Restaurant for a proper meal.

The “guards” skipped lunch, loitering on the street outside. One grabbed a wrap to munch while they chatted idly. Wrappers emptied, bellies still rumbling—they toughed it out, eyes glued to Kuper.

Back at the hotel, their shift dragged on. They hunkered in a nearby car: Bai Zhuo on comms with the Guard Institute command room, Yuena peering through binoculars at the upper floors.

Soon, a shadow appeared on the third-floor balcony.

Kuper settled under the parasol, soaking in the pristine views. Room service delivered drinks and snacks inside. He hadn’t finished his fresh coconut latte before mangling a oat milkshake.

The hotel sprawled openly; from the third floor, treetops dominated, buildings sparse under height limits—no view blocks. Greenery and streets formed a watercolor vista.

But Kuper craved more. Rising, he yearned for river-and-mountain reflections nearby. Distant peaks and waters hid from sight.

Beyond his gaze’s reach, he unpacked his drone to expand the horizon. Launched skyward, it buzzed toward Snake Port on whirring quad rotors. At altitude, it hushed to silent glide overhead.

The instant it lifted off, chaotic footsteps erupted inside. The balcony slider whooshed open. Two men burst out, pinning him in a blink.

“What the—”

Kuper’s words cut short as they slammed him down. Meanwhile, the remote landed safely in a man’s grasp. The drone wheeled back obediently, alighting on the roof.

Bai Zhuo scooped it up, weighing it in his palm. “Not bad. Photos not enough? Now remote surveillance?”

Kuper understood Homer language but mangled it speaking. He meant to retort, but words jammed—his lips flapped like he was cursing silently.

“Enough. Take him in—gear and all!”

Soon after, Kuper and bags vanished from the balcony. The server stood guard at the door, helping Yuena inventory outsider items.

Bai Zhuo didn’t follow right away. He gazed toward distant Snake Mouth Mountain, lost in thought for a spell.

…

Once in the Interrogation Room, Kuper’s belongings hit the Investigation Section for a thorough once-over. Phone data and chats since activation dumped to computers for screening.

Recent travel snaps drew extra scrutiny.

But the section staff scanned repeatedly to no avail. Even those “institute-famous” selfies crammed faces into frames against blank skies—forcing staff to endure close-up mugs without spotting suspicious bits.

Institute Director He De listened to Pu Ningxiu’s report, fingers stroking his chin, neatly combed mustache lending extra rasp. “There should be another camera—the one he had strangers shoot.”

“We grilled him. He swears it was in the bag. We checked every pocket. Nothing.”

“The room?”

“Cleared out completely when we took him. No omissions.”

“Bai Zhuo, track down the pedestrian who snapped those river shots for No. 8. Bring him in for questioning.”

Bai Zhuo hesitated. Public backlash against the Guard Institute was rife, just easing. The pedestrian screamed local Homer person—no hard evidence for a grab. Might stir fresh uproar?

Institute Director He De: “Don’t worry. I’ll handle any fallout. Go.”

Bai Zhuo’s team rolled out. Meanwhile, Institute Director He De summoned An Erdong to the Internal Investigation Section office to review footage from two mornings ago through today, hunting the camera.

Per Kuper, he’d pulled it out at the riverbank day before yesterday for a passerby’s help; snapped more at Gourmet City today. Too beat that afternoon to offload pics—planned to bundle with videos next morning. But no dice: nabbed with tools in tow.

Institute Director He De bought none of it. He was dead sure the camera held sensitive shots, handed off mid-tour.

They needed that camera today—or proof of Kuper pilfering Bailunting secrets.

…

Under Institute Director He De’s personal oversight, operatives kicked into overdrive. The Internal Investigation Section tech room commandeered three computers, divvying footage into morning, noon, evening sieves.

But more than three stations hummed. Ji Tingxi had Ruo Xing fire up two more, facing off with the investigation team.

“Director Ji, you’re here too.” The working staff were her subordinates. Though now under Institute Director He De, they greeted her warmly.

“Can’t we be?”

“Of course! Go ahead!” An Erdong beamed broadly.

Ruo Xing moused along, muttering under his breath with a white-eyed glare, “Grinning more obsequiously than me!”

Low as it was, Ji Tingxi caught it. She fired the finisher.

“No, you could amp up the sycophancy. Run through Officer Du’s movements fast and report back.”

…

Institute Director He De prepped to interrogate Kuper himself.

Intelligence Division loaned a translator for backup.

In his eyes, Kuper acted the part well. Tourism queries flowed freely—he could solo a travel vlog uninterrupted. But sensitize the topic, and he played dumb: “No idea.”

His big green eyes gleamed, iris stripes screaming “innocent purity.”

Institute Director He De admired Ji Tingxi anew—unruffled by feigned idiocy without lifting a hand.

But he was a battle-hardened vet; this wouldn’t faze him. Kuper’s dual citizenship made torture off-limits anyway, spy or not.

Stalemate gripped the Interrogation Room. Then Bai Zhuo broke through: They ID’d the photo helper in under an hour, hauling him back faster than food delivery.

“Tell me—why’d you snap pics for him?”

“I… because he asked me to.” Gu Youjin stared, baffled—had he lost it, or had they?

“What’d you capture?”

Gu Youjin looked lost, features twisted like pepper-sprayed. “Just that outlander and the sunset behind him. He said focus on the sunset.”

“Only him and sunset?”

“And… water. Some waterbirds, I think. Riverbank, railing too.”

“No mountain?”

“Maybe? No? Can’t recall. I focused on the guy.”

“Didn’t he say emphasize the sunset?”

“But you can’t mosaic the guy out.”

Bai Zhuo slammed the table. “Think hard! Did you get the mountain or not?”

Gu Youjin jolted like electrocuted, quaking.

His fragile composure shattered in the boom. Instinct blurted, “No… no…”

“We’ll verify with the camera later. Get it right—this decides if you walk free!”

“Maybe yes… Mostly sunset, but some mountain edge. Just a bit.”

Breakthrough. Bai Zhuo pressed: “Any buildings on the mountain?”

Gu Youjin teetered on tears. “I swear, I don’t remember. Wasn’t looking that way.”

“How many times’d you review shots with him post-pic?”

“Twice… First wasn’t good enough; he had me reshoot.”

“Why not good?”

“No clue. I suck at photography—pure gut.”

Gu Youjin avoided lies but dreaded “dunno” displeasing them, neck hunching for the strike.

Bai Zhuo eased off.

Experience pegged this guy as a normie pedestrian—mental fragility screamed it. Or a flawless actor, collapse included.

Mindset skewed statements either way. Priority: snag that camera.

He geared to brief Institute Director He De. But in the observation room, Yesuiying and Te Rui loomed too, faces grim with bad news. Bai Zhuo wisely zipped it, hanging back.

“The Kangman Consulate pressured North County Station,” Yesuiying said. “Claim: A citizen detained in Bailunting territory. Suspected Guard Investigation Institute overreach via criminal coercion.”

Institute Director He De leaned back, snorting—a gust sending his mustache airborne. “That quick? Makes the suspect even shadier!”

Yesuiying knew the delicacy but urged mildly, “North County Station notified us: No solid proof? Release him now.”

Institute Director He De exhaled deeply, face hardening. They craved proof. But that damned camera—who knew where it’d flown.