Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

The door to the commander-in-chief's office was tightly closed.

The heavy soundproof door panels completely blocked out the sound of footsteps in the corridor.

The plastic slats of the blinds were drawn tightly shut, preventing any sunlight from penetrating. Only the overhead cold white LED light was on, its rays casting a glaring white glow on the solid wood desk.

The air conditioner vents were spewing out cold air. The fan blades swung up and down, making a slight whirring sound of bearing friction.

The air was thick with a suffocatingly low pressure. A strong smell of printer toner, mixed with the acrid odor of heated paper, wafted into people's nostrils.

Old Wang sat on the edge of the leather sofa. The leather was a bit slippery.

Most of his buttocks were dangling in the air, his legs stiff as a board. His hands were rubbing the dark blue fabric on his knees so hard that the edges of his police trousers were frayed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and streamed down his face, but he didn't dare to raise his hand to wipe it away.

Lu Jingyan threw the interrogation transcript in his hand onto the desk.

The paper hit the solid wood tabletop with a dry, muffled thud.

"That kid confessed."

Lu Jingyan's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against a wooden board. Having stayed up two nights in a row, his Adam's apple was dry, revealing a thirst from working non-stop. "The clothes were bought from that underground black market in the western suburbs called 'Night Owl.' Three hundred thousand."

Su Xiaoxiao sat in a swivel chair against the wall, her cheeks puffed out, a strawberry-flavored lollipop stick dangling from her mouth.

"Three hundred thousand can get us scrapped parts from our top-secret warehouse?" She tapped her fingers on the tablet screen. "The power behind this black market is considerable; someone must be paving the way for them."

"Did you lead the team directly to take it down?" Old Wang leaned forward and asked tentatively, his voice very low.

"no."

Lu Jingyan tapped his fingers on the table. His fingertips struck the wooden surface with two heavy taps followed by one light one, a steady rhythm. "A forceful attack would alert them. Those people can destroy data faster than the special police breaking down a door."

He stopped what he was doing.

"We need to follow the trail and find the mole in headquarters. We need to send someone in to investigate."

The voice just fell.

With a loud bang, the heavy solid wood door of the office was pushed open from the outside. The door slammed heavily against the anti-collision pads behind the wall, causing the paint to flake off the wall.

Zhao Tiezhu swaggered in.

He wasn't wearing his usual police training uniform today. He had changed into a black leather jacket that he'd somehow found somewhere.

The leather had stiffened from being stored for too long and even smelled of mothballs. It was clearly a size too small; it was stretched taut over his muscular frame. The zipper could only be pulled up to his navel, revealing a black vest underneath with a few stray dog ​​hairs stuck to it.

On his bald head, an exaggerated pair of aviator sunglasses sat out of place. The frames were stuck firmly to his fleshy nose.

He had a toothpick dangling from his mouth. Three gleaming fake gold chains wrapped around his thick neck.

"Chief! Leave the undercover work to me!"

Zhao Tiezhu deliberately lowered his voice, hunching his chin back, and put on a low, indistinct, and seemingly fierce-sounding raspy voice.

He walked forward with his arms tilted to one side and his gait swaying. With each step, his tight leather jacket made a comical creaking sound.

"Look at my figure, my aura. Am I ruthless enough?"

He walked to the desk and slammed his hand on the surface.

With a loud "smack," Old Wang, who was sitting on the sofa, jumped so hard he almost slid onto the carpet.

"Once I stepped into that Night Owl Black Market, I was there." Zhao Tiezhu proudly flexed his chest muscles, the fake gold chain around his neck jingling. "Anyone who dares not call me Brother Zhu? I guarantee you'll find out everything about them!"

There was a three-second silence in the room. The cold air from the air conditioner swirled and blew downwards.

Su Xiaoxiao covered her mouth. Her shoulders were trembling from holding it in.

"Pfft—Brother Tie, you'd better give up already."

She couldn't hold it in any longer, pointing her finger at Zhao Tiezhu and laughing so hard she was panting.

"You look like a complete idiot who just stole a costume from a third-rate web series. What kind of gangster boss looks like you? The chain around your neck is faded and has left a green stain all over your neck."

Lu Jingyan leaned back in the hard chair. He didn't smile.

His deep black eyes swept over Zhao Tiezhu from head to toe. That gaze was like a bucket of ice water poured over him.

"Take it off. Go wash your face."

Lu Jingyan raised his hand and rubbed his aching temples. His knuckles pressed on acupoints, dispelling some of his drowsiness.

Zhao Tiezhu was stunned.

His jaw relaxed, and the toothpick fell from the corner of his mouth. It hit the thick surface of his military boot and bounced into the carpet.

"No... Chief, isn't my disguise 'streetwise' enough?" He was somewhat unwilling, scratching his shiny bald head. His fingernails scraped against his scalp with a soft, scratching sound.

"Being undercover is not like performing a skit."

Lu Jingyan sat up straight. He rested his elbows on the leather armrests of the chair, leaning slightly forward.

"The fact that Night Owls can obtain top-secret internal parts proves that their security and counter-surveillance mechanisms are very comprehensive."

His cold gaze was fixed on Zhao Tiezhu's legs.

"Your tattered leather jacket can't hide the muscle memory etched into your bones from eight years as a SWAT officer."

"When you entered, your stride was 75 centimeters, and you landed on your heels first. Your arms swung naturally for no more than 15 degrees while walking. This is the standard marching posture for military and police formations."

Zhao Tiezhu looked down at his feet. His face flushed, and he silently corrected his pigeon-toed stance.

"And your right shoulder."

Lu Jingyan spoke calmly, dissecting the logic of criminal investigation clearly and delivering it to the other party's face.

"Carrying that antimatter machine gun, which weighs over 100 pounds, for years has caused your right shoulder to be 1.5 centimeters lower than your left. The thick calluses on the second joint of your right index finger and the web of your thumb are all from pulling the trigger."

Lu Jingyan paused for a moment, then reached out and tapped the table.

"The lookouts on the outskirts of the black market see hundreds of people every day. They can tell you're a cop who's used to handling heavy weapons just by looking at how you hold a cigarette. You'll be shot in the back within three minutes of walking in."

Zhao Tiezhu was completely exposed. Dejected, he ripped off his sunglasses and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Then...then you'll go?" He looked at Lu Jingyan's cold, stern face. "With your aura, you don't need to pretend. Just change into a black suit and sit there, and you're the spitting image of a mafia godfather. Who would dare investigate you?"

Old Wang sat on the sofa, his hand, which was reaching for a tissue to wipe his sweat, stopped. He shook his head repeatedly and gave a bitter laugh.

"Come on, Brother Zhao, you've gone too far with this joke. Who in the underworld doesn't recognize President Lu these days?"

Old Wang swallowed hard; his throat felt dry.

"The living Yama goes down to the grassroots. He doesn't even need to say a word. He just walks to the entrance of the black market. Those selling stolen goods and smuggling will probably line up and come out, put their hands on their heads, squat on the curb and turn themselves in. What's the point of investigating? They'll all be scared away."

Lu Jingyan ignored Lao Wang's exaggerated description.

He picked up the chipped stainless steel thermos from the table. With a flick of his fingers, he unscrewed the metal lid. The threads on the rim made a soft clicking sound.

I took a sip of water. The warm water slid down my throat, relieving the tearing dryness in my vocal cords.

"Therefore, we need a new face."

He put the cup back in its place. The flat bottom hit the solid wood table with a dull thud.

"First, their appearance can't look like a police officer. They can't have any traces of training on their bodies; they have to have a natural, arrogant, and cocky air about them."

Lu Jingyan tapped his fingertips twice on the table.

"Secondly, you need to know some of the underworld rules and be able to use slang and code words. If you're in an emergency and a gun is pointed at your head, you won't be scared out of your wits and give yourself away."

He raised his eyelids and looked at the two people in front of him.

"Third, you have to be rich. You have to look like a spendthrift who has spare cash and is interested in high-tech gadgets."

He leaned back.

"Only this kind of person can dispel the vigilance of those desperados and logically lure out the high-level sellers in the black market."

Su Xiaoxiao's face fell after hearing these three harsh conditions.

She reached out and tugged at her ponytail, let out a long sigh, and leaned back in her chair.

"Boss, where in our department can we find such an oddball? He doesn't have the air of a cop, knows about the underworld, and is a spendthrift."

She pouted and muttered something.

"If such a rich spendthrift and outlaw truly existed, you would have personally dragged him to prison and made him work at a sewing machine long ago. He'd probably be out there on some construction site or in the market, honestly earning a pittance..."

The room fell silent as soon as he said that.

Zhao Tiezhu gasped sharply. His eyes widened in shock.

He raised his calloused hand.

With a "smack," it slapped heavily on its reflective bald head, leaving a large red patch on its scalp.

Zhao Tiezhu slapped his bald head, which was reflecting light: "Find a spendthrift who looks like a rich fool who knows the rules of the underworld? Chief, I just remembered someone I know."