The night was deep, and the cold wind swept across the port, carrying the salty scent of seawater.
Li Chuan stood between the stacked shipping containers, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings. This was an isolated area of Westport, a perfect spot for clandestine dealings. The towering stacks of cargo containers formed a maze-like barrier, providing both parties in the deal plenty of cover.
Beside him, Cheng Mo rested his fingers lightly on his waist—where a compact pistol was concealed.
"This is the place where Zhao Qiming disappeared?" Li Chuan asked in a low voice.
Cheng Mo nodded. "The transaction on February 17 happened here. Our sources confirmed that Zhao Qiming met a middleman from Heng Tai Group at this very location. But after that... he completely vanished."
Li Chuan frowned, his eyes scanning the ground. Though several days had passed, he still noticed details that others might have overlooked—a few faint bloodstains washed away by the rain, a torn piece of black fabric caught on the edge of a container.
"Got conflict happened here before." His voice was low.
Cheng Mo crouched down, running his fingers over the faded stains, his brows furrowed. "Seems like the deal didn't go smoothly."
Li Chuan remained silent, his mind racing through possibilities. Zhao Qiming must have brought some kind of "goods" to this deal, and the other party wasn't just an ordinary buyer. Either they wanted to silence him, or they planned to take the data for themselves.
Just then, a faint beam of light flickered in the distance.
Cheng Mo immediately tensed up, tugging at Li Chuan's sleeve. "Eh, got people."
Li Chuan shifted slightly, melting into the shadows of the containers, observing the source of the light.
A man in a dark trench coat walked slowly into view, his steps steady, his gaze sharp—clearly, a seasoned professional.
The man halted, scanning his surroundings before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
"Where is the stuff?" His voice was low and cold.
A muffled response came through the speaker, making the trench-coat man's expression darken. "Don't play games with me. If we still cannot find it, we settle this the hard way."
Li Chuan exchanged a glance with Cheng Mo, their suspicions growing deeper.
"They also finding something?" Cheng Mo whispered.
Li Chuan nodded slightly, murmuring, "Looks like Zhao Qiming's 'goods' didn't get delivered successfully. Even they haven't gotten it yet."
Cheng Mo frowned in thought. "If the deal went south, Zhao Qiming either kena caught, or he ran. Question is—where he keep the thing?"
Li Chuan narrowed his eyes at the trench-coat man, his mind working fast.
If Zhao Qiming had anticipated the danger, what would he have done?
He would have hidden the item in advance, just in case.
He might have left clues for someone he trusted to retrieve it later.
Which meant—the key was in Zhao Qiming's last movements.
Li Chuan took out his phone, quickly flipping through Zhao Qiming's activity records.
"Before the deal, he spent half an hour at a nearby café."
Cheng Mo blinked. "You think he hid the thing there?"
"Or at least left a clue."
Without hesitation, the two turned and slipped away before the trench-coat man could notice them.
Late Night Café
About two kilometers from Westport, a 24-hour café sat quietly along a dimly lit street.
Li Chuan pushed open the glass door and stepped inside, sweeping his gaze across the room.
There were only a handful of customers—some late-night office workers buried in their laptops, a couple of students hunched over textbooks. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries.
Cheng Mo lowered his voice. "That day, Zhao Qiming sat where?"
Li Chuan flipped through his photos and pointed to a seat by the window. "Here."
The two approached the table. Li Chuan's eyes quickly examined the surface and surroundings, looking for anything unusual.
Near the edge of the table, there was a faint scratch—barely noticeable but deliberately made.
Cheng Mo crouched down, running his fingers beneath the table. Suddenly, he felt something—an old piece of tape residue stuck underneath.
His eyes narrowed as he peeled it off.
A small, folded piece of paper was hidden underneath.
Li Chuan swiftly unfolded it, revealing a string of numbers:
"C-173 3029"
Cheng Mo frowned. "Warehouse number?"
Li Chuan nodded. "C-173 is likely a storage facility. '3029' could be a locker or unit number."
"The problem is—where is this warehouse?"
Their gazes met before both of them pulled out their phones.
A quick search revealed the answer.
"C-173 is a private storage facility in KL city center."
Cheng Mo's eyes turned cold. "So, he put the 'goods' there."
Li Chuan exhaled slowly. "That was probably his backup plan—his last escape route."
But there was one problem—
They weren't the only ones chasing after this lead.
The people at the port were likely looking for the same thing.
And they were running out of time.