The Murder Mystery

As Wang Zhiyuan hopped out of the car, his pupils shrank a smidge at the sight of those familiar faces, but he played it cool. He nonchalantly shut the car door and breezed past them like he didn't have a care in the world.

All that pondering during the drive had given him a reality check. Zhou Zhaotao was toast. His pipe dream of living through his past self was snuffed out before it even got off the ground. No parents, no friends or family since he'd grown up. That meant he had to roll with being Wang Zhiyuan from here on out.

No matter how ticked off, cheesed off, or choked up he was, he didn't have a choice.

But just because he was stuck with this identity didn't mean he was gonna roll over and play dead for the future.

In fact, Zhou Zhaotao kicking the bucket was Wang Zhiyuan's fresh start. He wasn't the type to nickle and dime. He was a big spender when it came to his crew – cars, houses, cash – if they were worth it, he didn't skimp. Heck, he even dabbled in charity. Sure, a mob boss doing charity with dirty money had a whiff of crocodile tears, but he didn't give a hoot. He kept work and personal life separate.

But let's be clear, he wasn't the kind of schmuck who'd thank you for ripping him off. Cross him or get in his way, and you'd only be seeing each other on the Day of the Dead.

Wang Zhiyuan sauntered over to the body, peering through the gap between Ding and Bighead. The coroner was busy packing up the corpse. It was just a glimpse, but the bloody mess was burned into his brain.

Compared to this, Li Xingchen's bullet was practically a mercy.

"Yo!" Bighead stepped back, stomping on Wang's shoe. "Bruiser? What's the deal, man? C'mon, let's head up and check out the crime scene."

Wang Zhiyuan shoved his clenched fist into his pocket.

His rage was like ice – cold and sharp. On the outside, he was the picture of calm, not a hair out of place. But inside, he was boiling.

"Cool as a cucumber, Bruiser," Ding casually threw him a compliment.

But that comment was like a punch to the gut for Wang Zhiyuan! He knew the mob life was no bed of roses, but seeing it with his own eyes was a different ball game.

Bighead, seeing Wang silent, snickered, "Scared stiff, huh? Forget him, man. Just seeing Zhou Zhaotao's mangled body gives me the heebie-jeebies. Who had such a beef with him to do him in like that?"

Ding chimed in, "Whoever did this was ruthless. Either someone in the biz or a personal vendetta."

A local cop walked up with a scrawny young guy, "Captain Ding, this is the driver who ran over Zhou Zhaotao."

The young guy looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Ding handed him a smoke.

The guy took it, trembling, and put it to his lips.

Bighead lit it for him.

But the guy choked on the first puff.

Bighead laughed, "Dude, do you even smoke?"

The guy shook his head, "No."

Bighead cracked up, "Then why'd you take it?"

Ding cut in, "Ease up, don't freak the guy out. What's your name, buddy? Where do you work?"

"Zhou Jian"

Ding said, "Alright, spill the beans. And relax, man."

Zhou Jian took a deep breath and began, "I drive past here every day on my way to work. Today I overslept, so I was flooring it, maybe 60 mph. As I got here, someone just fell from above, right in front of my car! I was paralyzed with fear and didn't hit the brakes until after I ran him over!"

Ding asked, "What time was this?"

Zhou Jian replied, "Around 8:10-ish. I start work at 8:30."

Ding continued, "Anything else unusual? Any shady characters around?"

Zhou Jian thought for a second, "There were a lot of people. I didn't really notice. I called the cops right away."

Ding turned to the cop who brought Zhou Jian and said, "Officer Zhang, did you get his statement? Take down his phone number and address, then sneak him out before Zhou Zhaotao's goons see him."

Zhou Jian went pale, "Was that really Zhou Zhaotao?"

Ding patted him on the back, "Just keep your eyes peeled for the next few days. If anything feels off, call the cops. If things get hairy, I'll get someone to watch your back."

Zhou Jian looked a bit relieved, thanked him profusely, and left with Officer Zhang.

Bighead said, "This has nothing to do with him. Even if Zhou Zhaotao hadn't been blown to bits, falling from the 20th floor would've done him in. You think Qian Haiyang's crew would mess with him?"

Ding replied, "With Zhou Zhaotao gone, someone's gonna fill his shoes. And to win the crowd, they'll want revenge."

Bighead said, "Revenge sounds good to me. I wish someone would hunt down the killer for us!"

Ding snorted, "You think mobsters are boy scouts? They don't care about justice. They just need a scapegoat to pin it on. Who knows if the real killer is one of them. Priority one is to find the killer ourselves. That way, everyone's happy."

That was music to Wang Zhiyuan's ears.

He spun around and made a beeline for the building.

As Bighead and Ding were about to follow, they spotted someone getting out of a Mercedes. Bighead shouted, "Hey, Qian Haiyang's here!"

Wang Zhiyuan's feet hit the brakes, and he whipped his head around.

Sure enough, it was Qian Haiyang.

With his hair slicked back like a sculpture, an anachronistic pocket watch, and a cigar that never left his pocket. Even in a designer suit and doused in cologne, he couldn't hide the stench of fish.

Wang Zhiyuan's throat tightened as he fought to keep his cool.

Qian Haiyang glanced their way, then quickly looked away and muttered something to his crew before getting back in the car.

His goons exchanged glances, then hopped into their cars and followed him out.

Bighead said, "He just left like that?"

Ding replied, "What did you expect? A Hollywood movie scene where he draws a sword and tries to snatch Zhou Zhaotao's body?"

Bighead said, "He could've at least said hi. I would've loved to see the look on his face."

Ding sneered, "The big boss is dead, and he's still dressed to the nines. Looks like he's having the time of his life."

Wang Zhiyuan turned and headed inside.

The lobby of the luxury apartment was swanky. There was a screen in the middle with three passages behind it – left to the entertainment center, right to customer service and security, and the middle one led to the elevators.

Bighead, seeing Wang Zhiyuan stride ahead like he owned the place, couldn't help but ask, "You been here before?"

Wang Zhiyuan, without turning, pointed to a small sign on the wall and said, "There's a sign."

Ding laughed, "I didn't even notice."

Seaview Luxury Apartments was 25 floors, and Zhou Zhaotao lived in a penthouse on the top floor.

When they entered, two plainclothes officers were combing through the crime scene, with other cops assisting.

"Tadpole? Beanpole?" Bighead exclaimed, "How'd you guys get here so fast?"

Tadpole grinned, "Beanpole and I bumped into each other on the way. He got the call, so we hightailed it here together."

Ding asked, "What's the scoop? Find anything?"

Tadpole said, "This bomb was no joke. Wrecked the whole living room. We'll need a bomb expert to analyze the specifics. But I found some small parts that look like they're from a clock. Not sure if it was already here or part of the bomb."

Ding said, "If it's from the bomb, then it was a time bomb?"

Tadpole replied, "Probably. This place is huge. If Zhou Zhaotao wasn't in the living room at the time, he might've just been injured, not blown to smithereens."

Ding said, "So, the killer knew Zhou Zhaotao would be in the living room at that time."

Bighead chimed in, "Sounds like an inside job."

Of course, it was an inside job, and by someone he'd groomed himself!

Wang Zhiyuan's eyes were clouded with a storm of hatred.