Everyone left at the Criminal Investigation Team poked their heads out of the office.
They watched as Qin Yong stood at the interrogation room door, holding an A4 sheet of paper, waving his arms around, tears streaming down his face.
He looked like a madman in his joy, and like a fool in his sorrow.
Liu Guodong, his eyes red, leaned against the wall, as if all his strength had been drained following the recent excitement.
Inside the interrogation room, upon hearing the name Song Kun, Wang Manli's face turned as pale as a sheet, her breathing involuntarily quickening.
The book says no one has the right to measure the value of life with money.
But only those who have worked as police know that life has value.
Thirty bucks, fifty bucks, a million, three million.
Before "taking lives," there's usually "for profit."
Wiping his cheeks, cleaning off whatever was sweat, tears, or snot, Qin Yong was a bit overwhelmed with excitement!
