What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

Secondly, besides reporting the news to Director Wang, I also had some deeper, probing thoughts on this trip back to the funeral home.

Just now, in the back room of the antique shop, after learning some things about Lao Zhang's past ten years from the middle-aged owner, I've actually been quite suspicious.

Is the mysterious person who made the big boss of Jiangcheng's underworld wary and stepped in to protect Lao Zhang the same person as Director Wang?

Because some of the facts are just too coincidental, so coincidental that they cannot be ignored.

Whether it was Jiang Ling's sudden disappearance before, or Lao Zhang's bizarre disappearance this time, it's all the same.

The reason I got involved in both of these incidents was because of Director Wang's request.

Most importantly, Lao Zhang, a "tomb raider" who had once risked his life and ventured into dangerous ancient tombs, actually willingly worked for a full ten years in a lowly government office like the Jiangcheng Funeral Home, earning a meager fixed salary.

Faced with Director Wang's various difficulties and reprimands, he never talked back, but instead called Director Wang his "savior".

It is unusual in itself to be able to save a tomb raider's life.

And what if this benefactor is the mysterious tycoon who, ten years ago, made a mob boss release the man with just one sentence...?

Then everything makes sense.

With these questions in mind, I drove very fast.

Around 11 o'clock, I parked the SUV in the parking lot outside the funeral home.

The funeral home seemed to be quiet today, with only a few stray cats sunbathing by the flowerbeds, having somehow appeared out of nowhere.

I walked through the first-floor corridor with familiarity and followed the stairs to the door of the director's office on the second floor.

The office door was ajar, leaving a narrow gap.

When I pushed open the door and went in, Director Wang was comfortably leaning back in his large boss's chair.

The thermos was still on his desk, and he was intently reading yesterday's Jiangcheng Evening News.

He would occasionally pick up his thermos and take a sip of tea, looking relaxed and content.

Hearing the door open, Director Wang put down his newspaper, looked up and glanced at me.

"Hey, Xiao Chen's back."

Director Wang chuckled, put down his thermos, looked at me, and said:

"How was it? Did you go to Old Zhang's house?"

What exactly does that old guy do at home?

"Are you sleeping too soundly to get out of bed? You don't even know to answer the phone?"

I walked to the chair opposite his desk, pulled it out, and sat down.

This time, instead of beating around the bush or joking as usual, I looked him straight in the eye and got straight to the point:

"Director, Old Zhang has gone missing."

As I uttered those five words, a thought stirred within me.

The mysterious, cool aura that had been lingering between my eyebrows instantly began to circulate, and in conjunction with the silent operation of the evil core in my dantian, I activated my perception to its maximum at this moment.

At this distance of less than two meters, one could hear Director Wang's heart rate, the depth of his breathing, the speed of blood flow in his veins, and even the slightest muscle twitch on his face.

They are all vividly reflected in my mind, impossible to escape my notice.

Upon hearing this, Director Wang's smile froze.

"What?! Missing?!"

He was terrified and jumped up from the boss's chair.

Because of the large movement, the thermos on the table was knocked and the tea almost spilled.

He stared at me with wide eyes, his voice full of anxiety and confusion:

"What happened? Didn't you go to his house to look for him?"

How could a perfectly healthy person suddenly disappear?

Seeing his anxious expression, my expression remained unchanged.

She simply recounted everything that had just happened to him in a calm and unhurried tone.

Of course, I omitted the gory details of how I tortured the two suspects with the Mirage Dragon Silk.

He simply said that he had keenly sensed something was wrong at the door of Old Zhang's house, discovered that there were thugs lying in ambush, and then followed the clues all the way to the antique street in the western suburbs.

The key point is that, during the narration, I deliberately did not hide anything about the inside story.

I explained in detail all the sensitive terms that were originally only known to people in the circle, such as "military tally," "the mastermind behind the reservoir corpse case," "Jiangcheng's underground forces," "the Bureau of Folklore," and "spiritual practitioners."

I did this to test him.

If Director Wang is indeed a hidden insider, or the "mysterious person" who saved Lao Zhang.

So when he hears these terms that involve a ten-year-old case or even special official agencies, his aura, heartbeat, or instinctive reaction will inevitably show a slight fluctuation that is difficult for ordinary people to detect.

However, as I continued my story, Director Wang's reactions only deepened my doubts.

He behaved much like an ordinary, middle-aged bureaucrat who had never seen much of the world.

At first, when he heard that there were thugs lying in ambush at Lao Zhang's house, his face was full of shock and fear, and he even subconsciously touched his chest.

He frowned when he heard about the so-called "big boss" behind the scenes and the mysterious bronze "military token".

He had a completely bewildered expression, as if he were listening to a suspense novel.

When I mentioned that the people from the "Folklore Bureau" had arrested the suspect in the past, the expression on his face turned completely blank.

Despite being full of doubts, Director Wang patiently listened to me recount the whole story.

After I finished speaking, the office fell into a brief silence.

Director Wang stood there stunned for a long time before finally swallowing hard.

He looked at me cautiously, his tone tinged with uncertainty and confusion:

"Well... Xiao Chen, I know you know a lot of people and are very capable."

He paused, pointed in the direction I had just been speaking, and asked hesitantly:

"But... what kind of organization is this so-called Folk Customs Bureau you just mentioned?"

"I've been working in the system in Jiangcheng for decades, how come I've never heard of such a bureau in our organization?"

Before I could even explain, he seemed to suddenly realize something more important and slapped his thigh.

"Oh, let's not worry about the bureau or anything like that right now!"

Director Wang paced anxiously behind his desk, rubbing his hands as he spoke.

"Xiao Chen, are you saying that Old Zhang might be being hunted down by a group of ruthless gangsters?!"

He stopped and looked at me, his face pale.

"This is no small matter! This is a matter of life and death!"