1:20 AM – Li Chuan's Apartment
Li Chuan reached his apartment, locking the door immediately as he stepped in. He took off his jacket, threw it onto the chair, and sat down at his desk. Scattered across the table were several photos—images he had secretly taken at Port Klang using a miniature camera. They captured the trade-off at the dock, the black-clad "cleaners," and the fallen black-market dealers.
He took a deep breath, switched on his laptop, and began uploading the photos into an encrypted remote server.
"Cheng Mo, any update on the buyer's identity?"
The earpiece crackled, and Cheng Mo's tired voice came through. "No leh. Like I said just now, the buyer's details are completely erased from all underground transaction networks. Even the usual money movement records—totally blank, wei."
"Someone is controlling things behind the scenes." Li Chuan frowned slightly. "If Zhao Qiming's disappearance is related to this trade, then the one wiping out the records… maybe that person is the real target."
He took out the encrypted note he had obtained from Hai Yue Hotel, scanning the sequence again:
L.T. 0217 交割 3000W
L.T… What was this? A company code? A personal alias?
"Cheng Mo, can you find anything about 'L.T.'?"
"I tried already, but nothing direct. No company, no person under this name." Cheng Mo paused for a moment before adding, "But I found something quite interesting."
"What?"
"In Hengtai Group's internal financial reports, there's a code 'LT' appearing in certain confidential fund transfers. These don't appear in external audit reports, only in internal expense logs, mostly under 'special projects.'"
Li Chuan's eyes darkened.
"Special projects?"
"Yeah, bro. These fund movements are hidden deep. On paper, it's labeled as 'R&D expenses' or 'risk investment,' but when you track the actual transactions, the pattern looks damn similar to black-market money flow."
"So 'L.T.' is likely some secret financial channel within Hengtai Group?"
"Very high chance."
Li Chuan tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, his expression unreadable. "If Zhao Qiming's deal involved 'L.T.,' that means he might have uncovered Hengtai's secret fund operations."
That would explain why the deal site got 'cleaned up.'
But the real question was—what evidence did Zhao Qiming have?
2:00 AM – A Mysterious Call
Li Chuan was still analyzing the photos when his phone suddenly vibrated.
An unknown, unlisted number.
Without hesitation, he answered.
"Mr. Li." A deep male voice came through. "I think we should talk."
Li Chuan narrowed his eyes slightly but kept his tone calm. "Who are you?"
"Someone who is… also interested in Zhao Qiming's disappearance."
Li Chuan didn't respond, waiting for the man to continue.
A second of silence passed, then the man spoke again, slowly. "If you want to know what Zhao Qiming left for you, meet me at Warehouse 7 in Old Town, 3 AM."
"Why should I trust you?" Li Chuan's voice remained neutral.
"You don't have to." The man chuckled, but there was a sharp coldness in his tone. "But this might be your only chance to get closer to the truth."
The line went dead.
Li Chuan stared at his phone, his gaze thoughtful.
Warehouse 7… He was familiar with that place. It used to be a storage facility for a multinational corporation before being abandoned. Now, it was a grey zone—often used by underground syndicates for unofficial deals.
"Looks like tonight is not for sleeping, ah." He smirked slightly, stood up, and reached for his spare firearm.
Whoever was on the other end of that call—if they reached out first, it meant they had something worth listening to.
3:00 AM – Warehouse 7, Old Town
The streets in Old Town were far darker than the city center. The streetlights were long broken, leaving only a few flickering neon signs in the distance.
Li Chuan walked quietly along the path, hand casually resting in his pocket, where his gun was.
The warehouse doors were slightly open, a dim light spilling through the gap.
Careful now.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside—
Tss—
A sudden white flash blinded him as overhead industrial lights blazed to life. The intense brightness made him narrow his eyes.
At the center of the warehouse, a man in a dark suit sat waiting at a table, which was stacked with documents.
The man smiled at him and gestured. "Have a seat."
Li Chuan didn't move. Instead, his eyes swept over the documents.
And in the next second—his expression subtly shifted.
The files on the table were copies of Zhao Qiming's testimony—
The same testimony that should have been erased from police records.
"You." Li Chuan's voice was calm but sharp. "Who the hell are you?"
The man leaned back slightly and smiled. "That's not important." He tapped a finger on the documents. "What matters is—do you want to know what Zhao Qiming found?"
Li Chuan didn't answer. He simply stared at the man in silence.
Because he knew—this conversation would determine everything that happened next.