Regrets

Nothing. There was nothing on the phones. There was nothing else suspicious on the two agents that Wuming had just killed. They were really just finding Qing Zihao, nothing else. 

"What's wrong with you?" asked Qing Chen. It was the weekend and weekends were already allotted into trying to decode the tattoo. It had been for weeks already.

"I think we may have unncessarily killed two innocent men."

"They are not innocent," said Qing Chen and sipped on his coffee.

"It's not like they could really touch us here in Chengshi," he countered. "We have every official in our side. The maximum time that I stared at a jail wall was an hour."