Chapter 84: One Million Five Hundred Thousand Dollars

The other party remained silent for a while, perhaps a minute or two, during which no messages arrived from their side.

Only after this suffocating stretch of emptiness did a new message finally appear, but rather than admitting whether they were Yang Luo, the reply was brief and to the point:

“—Send me the information.”

Huang Yuanguang hesitated, wanting to propose a price, but in the end he restrained himself.

He immediately uploaded the photos from the base’s miniature camera, quickly cropped them, and sent them over.

Once everything was handed over, Huang Yuanguang felt a burning dryness in his mouth. He quietly opened the study door and slipped out.

The living room was empty, his wife had already retreated to the bedroom for her midday rest.

Huang Yuanguang tiptoed into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of purified water. But when he returned to the study, relocked the door, and sat down before the computer, he saw the message bar blinking. The other party had seemingly reviewed all the information within those few minutes and sent a new request:

“You said earlier this is the result of ‘a police officer’s own investigation,’ right? Besides you and him, how many people have seen this report?”

Huang Yuanguang’s fingers hovered less than a few centimeters above the keyboard.

For a long time, staring at the computer screen, sweat pouring down his face, he finally typed:

“…He just finished writing it today. No one else has seen it but me.”

“Good.”

The reply came in less than half a second, with a tone that brooked no argument:

“—Tell me this police officer’s name and identity.”

Just a single line, but to Huang Yuanguang, it felt like the notes of Death itself.

His heart began to race wildly.

Sweat poured from his body with even greater urgency than before.

With great difficulty, Huang Yuanguang pressed the keys, trying to type out the name, but it was as if something blocked him, preventing any further action.

“I… can’t.”

His hands trembled as he typed, clinging to a shred of hope, slowly putting his thoughts into words.

“At most, I can sell some peripheral information… If I tell you, I’d be an accessory to murder.”

After sending this message, Huang Yuanguang felt utterly exhausted, slumping in his chair, staring blankly at the secret messaging interface, his expression dazed.

He waited for the other party’s response.

He wanted to base his next actions on that reply.

He guessed the other party would likely send a long, angry message, attempting to persuade him.

But in truth, if that happened, Huang Yuanguang would actually feel a little relieved.

If that happened, he would immediately delete the software, erase all traces of himself from the darknet, and find a way to cleanse his previous bank records.

Then, he would pretend nothing had ever happened, no miniature cameras, no internal leaks from the August 12th case, no theft and sale of police reports… none of it would have anything to do with him. He would reinvent himself, become again a good police officer, a good father, a good husband, anxiously hoping his past would remain forever buried, living in constant dread of an uncertain future.

Though he entertained many scenarios in that instant, the reply he received far exceeded his imagination.

“To think you’re so naive…

“Do you really believe, at this point, you can just walk away?”

Huang Yuanguang began to tremble.

The tremors grew, until he shook like a sieve.

Not because of the content of the message.

But because of the medium.

On the computer screen, the secret chat software and cross-domain connection interface were forcibly closed, replaced by a two-way video chat window.

On the other side, a man with murder in his eyes stared brazenly at him; behind the man was a spacious, imposing office.

And the words just spoken had come out of that man’s mouth, directly through the video chat software and his laptop’s speakers!

But he was certain he hadn’t activated the sound.

“Huang Yuanguang. Male, forty-three. Ten years ago, Captain of the First Squad, Criminal Investigation Division, Qingjiang Provincial Bureau. Afterwards transferred, moved through several departments, finally became Chief of the ‘Behavioral Analysis Section’ of the Provincial Bureau… Wife Jiang Yuan, forty-one, child Huang Yiyi, six. Do I need to say more?”

The face on the screen, not much different from Yang Luo’s photo in Lin Heng’s files, but with a completely different aura, flashed a smile—one that carried the brutal edge of a saber-toothed tiger.

Unable to control his trembling, Huang Yuanguang shook his head.

“No… nothing. What do you want me to do?”

A bleak smile appeared on his face.

Yang Luo on the screen met his gaze. Though their eyes were level, it felt as if the man looked down from a great height.

“Now, tell me everything you know. I’ll decide what to do.”

He raised his chin slightly, the cold smile pressing down on Huang Yuanguang.

“Relax. You’ll still be useful to me later; I won’t harm you or those around you… In fact, meeting me might be the greatest opportunity of your life.”

…The greatest opportunity? More like the greatest hell.

Huang Yuanguang’s face was ashen, forcing a smile, his words slurred:

“At first, the one investigating this was my subordinate, Lin Heng, a member of the Behavioral Analysis Section…”

…

A long time later, when Huang Yuanguang had finally finished his account and the video was cut.

Alone in the study, his complexion gray, he reached with trembling fingers for another cigarette, but his hands shook so badly he couldn’t light it.

Frustrated, he slammed the lighter down onto the desk with a sharp clang.

Just then, his virtual wallet pinged with a new notification.

“Your wallet at address 5xhhdf#@… has just received a transfer of 1,500,000.00 USDT.”

Huang Yuanguang froze, then hurriedly opened the wallet to check the details, counting the digits carefully, again and again, until finally he was sure it was real. He stared in disbelief.

“One… one and a half million dollars?!”

With so much money, not only could Yiyi attend a private elementary school, but even overseas private education was now possible!

Huang Yuanguang sat up straight, his eyes shining, the heavy weight of wealth smashing through all his doubts, tipping him completely toward Yang Luo.

But then, glancing at the time in the corner of the screen and the sun sinking outside the study window, he frowned slightly, a vague unease stirring in his heart.

“It’s already nearly five in the afternoon… Can Yang Luo really ‘deal’ with Lin Heng today?”

But another thought soon followed:

“If worst comes to worst, I’ll just stall Lin Heng for another day when he comes to work in the morning—two days of buffer should be enough for Yang Luo to handle things.”

With this, Huang Yuanguang’s worries melted away. His hands no longer shook; he picked up the lighter, lit a cigarette, and smoked at leisure.

Amid swirling smoke, his previous anxieties seemed to dissipate, replaced by the immense benefits now before him.

“One and a half million…”

A faint sigh echoed through the study.

So exhausting—the May Day holiday feels even more tiring than usual. Every day there’s something to do, somewhere to go; there’s barely any time to write, only at night. Daytime is spent in crowds at scenic spots or on the road. MSI has started, but I barely have any interest in watching.

Also, extraordinary powers are about to be fully revealed in the Dragon Nation. The upcoming plot, especially the details, must be written with great care, so I’ve spent more time thinking, which means updates often come late. Don’t wait around—if there’s no update in the afternoon, it’ll usually be after midnight.

(End of chapter)