Abstinence Pei, don't be too sweet when chasing your wife

The air conditioner in the criminal investigation team's office made a dying hum, and the captain of the criminal investigation team tapped his knuckles on the table in an anxious rhythm.

The lights at three o'clock in the morning flickered, cutting the messy red circles on the whiteboard into broken bloodstains.

After the two thugs died suddenly in the hospital ward, the whole case seemed to fall into a bottomless vortex: the lunch boxes in the evidence room disappeared out of thin air, the surveillance videos all went black at the moment of death, and the only witness, a nurse, was found curled up in a coma in a suburban landfill. Her mobile phone was soaked in strong acid, the circuit board was burnt black, and even the SIM card was corroded to only fragments.

Conventional means have been blocked by the other side.

Pei Luonan, who got the news, slammed the cold coffee cup on the desk. The crisp sound of ceramic and metal colliding startled the moths on the windowsill.

His finger hovered over the mysterious number in his cell phone's address book. The heavy rain outside the window was accompanied by strong winds, which slammed the rain curtains against the glass.

When private detective Lu Chenzhou pushed the door open and entered, stepping on the puddles on the floor, damp water vapor mixed with the scent of cedar perfume poured into the room. He took off his silver-rimmed glasses to wipe the lenses, his eyes swept over the copied case files, and suddenly bent down to pick up the crumpled autopsy report.

"Chronic poisoning from aconitine. The time between death and resurrection is accurate to 17 minutes and 23 seconds." Lu Chenzhou picked up the report with tweezers, his eyes behind the lenses sharp as an eagle. "This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment murder, but a countdown to death that was accurate to the minute."

He spread the photos of the scene all over the table, and lightly touched one of the close-up photos with his fingertips - the edge of the milk carton on the gangster's bedside, the needle hole was as thin as a mosquito's foot, "0.3 mm syringe, this kind of sophisticated method of committing the crime must have been done by a professional. Not to mention,"

He suddenly zoomed in on another photo. "The cotton fibers detected in the folds of their bed sheets exactly match the material of Mingyuan Catering staff uniforms."

Following the hospital's meal distribution records, Lu Chenzhou disguised himself as a food supplier and sneaked into Mingyuan Catering Company.

The stench in the kitchen was disgusting. In the pile of moldy potatoes, half a bag of black powder labeled "industrial raw materials" was emitting a strange luster.

As he was filming with his miniature camera, he suddenly heard the sound of nails scratching metal from the ventilation duct above his head.

Almost instinctively, he suddenly turned sideways, and a bloody boning knife scraped past his earlobe and was nailed into the wall. The dark red blood on the blade shone glossily under the emergency light. The handle was still trembling slightly, and the number "NYC-07" was written on the blade.

The chase unfolds in a cold storage filled with rotting meat.

The tear gas thrown out by the black shadow filled the air instantly. Lu Chenzhou covered his mouth and nose and ran wildly in the pungent smoke, his shoes constantly stepping on stagnant water and rotten debris.

When he broke open the security door and rushed to the back door, he only picked up half of the oil-stained delivery note in the mud.

The beam of the mobile phone's flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the blurred handwriting - the delivery address pointed to the private clinic under Zhou Mingyuan's name, and the receipt time was frozen at 4:17 in the morning on the day the gangster died.

At this moment, a message from Pei Luonan popped up on the phone screen: "Checking Hunhun's bank account, ten days ago, two people each received a transfer of 200,000 yuan, and the postscript column was blank."

In the bank's cold storage, Lu Chenzhou watched the transaction flow scrolling on the screen.

This amount of money was like a cunning eel, starting from a shell company in the Cayman Islands, passing through three offshore accounts, and finally being transferred to a trading company under the name of Zhou Group.

What is even more shocking is that the account details show that in the past half month, the two gangsters have received three equal payments, and in the remarks column of the latest transfer of 150,000 yuan, the word "balance payment" is marked in extremely small font, as if it is the signature of the god of death.

When the criminal investigation team leader led the team to search the clinic, the combination lock of the basement safe flashed red.

The moment the code was cracked, a stale smell of blood hit me in the face.

The account book was densely packed with records of "freight transportation fees, hush money, and experimental material fees." One line of words made the air freeze instantly: "2013.09.25, Chen and Zhao made advance payment, project: hospital cleaning."

In the photo hidden in the account book, two thugs were standing in front of a container at the dock. On the back of the photo, the handwriting in pen was so strong that it could be seen through the paper: "Two stupid dogs, it's time to deal with them."

There was still half a fingerprint left on the edge of the photo, which was found to be highly consistent with the fingerprint of Zhou Mingyuan's personal secretary.

The fire at the chemical plant on the outskirts of the city lit up half the sky. Lu Chenzhou rushed into the fire scene against the scorching air waves. The high temperature made his eyelashes curl.

From the melted safe, he grabbed a few hot USB flash drives.

When the data was recovered, hidden under the 128-bit encrypted garbled code was an unsent text message draft: "Execute as planned, handle it cleanly, and destroy all evidence after the final payment of 50 yuan is received.

“The recipient is the number of the missing nurse.

Lu Chenzhou discovered a hidden encrypted folder in the missing nurse's personal computer. When the password was cracked, the cold light of the monitor reflected his shocked face.

Numerous medical references were highlighted, and densely packed notes filled the pages next to the metabolic cycle and lethal dose of aconitine. Written in red pen was a note: "Excellent poisoning channel. Handle with caution those who know about it."

Even more frightening was the fact that there was an unsynchronized entry in her cloud notebook: “If something happens to me, go check the third floor tile in Zhou Mingyuan’s office.”

Just as the case was becoming clearer, the news from the informant made the atmosphere suddenly tense: Zhou Mingyuan's private plane was on standby at the airport, and his entourage included his personal secretary and bodyguards.

Lu Chenzhou found an iron box with a skull logo on it in the employee locker of Mingyuan Catering Company.

The moment it was opened, a cold breath hit me in the face. Two syringes filled with black liquid were neatly arranged. On the lid of the box was written in blood: "The most deadly poison is always hidden in the most ordinary plate."

The train ticket in the iron box's interlayer had a departure date of the day after the gangster's death, and its destination was the city where Zhou Mingyuan's overseas villa was located. When the ultraviolet light scanned the back of the ticket, a string of numbers emerged, pointing to a warehouse on the edge of the city.

The moment the search team broke into the warehouse, the beam of a strong flashlight pierced the darkness.

Hundreds of iron barrels labeled "industrial raw materials" were neatly arranged, half of which had been opened. The purified aconitine crystals flashed an evil light under the light.

The computer on the workbench was still running, and the screen displayed the research and development data of the new poison.

In the surveillance video, Zhou Mingyuan was wearing a black windbreaker and appeared here a week before the gangster's death. Beside him was the chef wearing a spider tattoo necklace. When the two were talking, the cigar in Zhou Mingyuan's hand flickered, as if he was planning something.

After the background sound of the video was enhanced, a fragment of dialogue "It's time to deal with that police captain" was faintly heard.

The police station was suddenly plunged into darkness on a rainy night. The red light of the emergency lights cast everyone's shadows on the wall, like a mural of hell.

Pei Luonan's phone suddenly vibrated and an anonymous MMS popped up.

In the picture, in an empty ward, an unopened milk carton lies quietly on the bedside table.

The caption below was glaring red: "Guess who's the next target?"

On a rainy night in the city, in an incubator in a mysterious laboratory somewhere, a new batch of purified aconitine flickered with a faint blue light.

The sound of gears turning came from the ventilation duct, like the footsteps of death.

At this moment, Zhou Mingyuan was sitting in the study of his private villa, sliding his fingers on the tablet computer. On the screen, the movement trajectories of Pei Luonan and Lu Chenzhou were being updated in real time.

He chuckled softly and said to the shadows in the dark, "Think you're getting closer to the truth? I'm just letting you see it... It's time to activate the Endgame Plan and the Toxicologist will take the stage."