Lord Jiang already straightened up from his chair, commanding me in a superior tone, “Go to the training ground immediately; I’ll be there in ten minutes!”

In this final moment, I suddenly realized the fellow just wanted to have some fun at my expense. I quickly countered, “Pay for yesterday’s meals first, and prepay five hundred yuan for today’s medical and nutritional expenses.”

“No problem. If you can beat me, I’ll double that amount.”

I wasn't falling for that trick. If I won, would I even need medical fees? It seemed this guy wasn't one to open his wallet easily either. I immediately thought of a delaying tactic: “Zhang Jiewei and the others just messaged from JIa University—an important witness is about to arrive at the precinct. I might be tied up for a while; we can discuss this later.”

“If Zhang Jiewei is here, do they need you? Just settle in and fight me; you can look at the report afterward.” Lord Jiang was not so easily fooled.

Hearing that, an unbidden surge of indignation rose in me. If he thought so highly of Zhang Jiewei, why didn’t he make him the squad leader and stick me, this oddity, out front as cannon fodder?

With that thought, my testosterone spiked, and in a fit of hot-headedness, I declared, “Fine, I’ll meet you at the training ground!”

The words were barely out when I regretted them, but Lord Jiang wouldn't give me a chance to back down. A subtle, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips—the look of a lion watching a young, vulnerable gazelle slowly step into striking range.

Policing is a peculiar profession. Its closest companions are the most vile and desperate criminals, who share one common trait: they devour people. They consume and mutilate their own kind in ways you cannot imagine. Thus, the profession of policing was born, endowing officers with a specific quality: in certain aspects, they must know how to ‘devour people’ better than the criminals themselves.

We cannot fathom how a sheep might extend justice to a wicked wolf. The only recourse is for a tiger to reach out with the claws of justice. Therefore, a police officer must possess a mind sharper than that of economic or fraud criminals, and a physique more robust and savage than that of assaulters or murderers. Only then can one become the tiger, capable of extending justice to the ferocious wolf.

Hence, combat training is a mandatory subject for police officers.

Although I never harbored grand ambitions, nor did I dream of becoming a Bureau Chief like Hong Yang, within this environment, I inevitably participated in various grappling and combat training sessions. Furthermore, back at the precinct, I once enjoyed a sense of unchecked impunity, relying on brute force alone.

However, I was acutely aware that today I faced a massive tiger, whose strength might far exceed my imagination. Perhaps ten rounds, maybe five, or even a single exchange could tear me to shreds. But I had no choice; I had to face him.

After changing into my training uniform, I stretched my body, thinking internally: As soon as this fellow arrives, I’ll launch the offensive immediately, striking before he’s fully warmed up—a move to seize the initiative.

At that moment, Lord Jiang’s silhouette appeared at the training ground entrance.

I glanced at my watch subconsciously: ten minutes, not a second more, not a second less. It seemed his interest in this matter far outweighed his interest in actual work; I had never seen him so punctual before.

“Oh, young man, you look quite energized, all warmed up. You’ll have to go easy on me later,” Lord Jiang chuckled slyly.

I wasn't going to be fooled again. I shot back, “Sir, you must be a master; no need to prepare. Let’s begin.”

The words dropped, and I launched myself at him with a Tiger Step, unleashing a heavy Mountain-Splitting punch.

Lord Jiang’s eyes narrowed. Just as my fist was about to strike his chest, a hand appeared out of nowhere, blocking it—a movement so fast I had never witnessed its like in my life.

But I didn't retract my strike, as my two greatest advantages were youth and sheer power. Based on these advantages, I intended to disrupt his rhythm with rapid, chaotic punches, using relentless, fierce attacks to drain his stamina. Once the great tiger was exhausted, dispatching me wouldn't be so simple for him.

Crack! My fist connected solidly with his palm. A hardness beyond my expectation sent a dull ache throbbing through my knuckles.

The ‘great tiger’s’ claws were indeed extraordinary, capable of making my fist ache. If that exchange had been fist-to-fist, I suspected my hand would now be useless, at the very least paralyzed by intense pain, capable only of making soft contact with things like tofu. Frankly, it would be ruined.

“Not bad. Strike immediately, a surprise attack—some tactical sense,” Lord Jiang remarked dismissively, with a hint of appraisal in his tone, as if he were the observer, not the target of the sneak attack. But isn't one's greatest enemy oneself?

My greatest skill is learning from mistakes. I always believe that suffering a loss once is unavoidable, but suffering it twice shows a lack of intelligence; anything more is the act of an imbecile. So, I immediately adjusted my tactics, ceasing to trade fists with the ‘great tiger’ and switching to open palms. This would prevent the kind of collision that would render my hand combat-ineffective.

A palm strike is slightly weaker than a punch, but its effectiveness depends on where it lands. For instance, a palm chop to the back of the neck could instantly drop an opponent like a headless rooster. A heavy strike might break bones, as the cervical vertebrae there are slender and not strongly fused. If the strike were a direct chop to the throat cartilage from the front, the results would be obvious. However, this was sparring; such lethal techniques were forbidden. If used, they had to be a mere touch, enough to signal victory.

Of course, I didn't expect to actually strike the ‘great tiger’s’ neck. I only hoped his claws and teeth weren't too sharp, lest I have to face the group with my arm bandaged up.

Body like a meteor, palm like a flower dancing through the rain—under the immense pressure of the ‘great tiger,’ my fighting potential was maximally excavated. Both my hands blurred, scattering strikes like falling blossoms. Suddenly, I spotted an opening, darted to his side, and brought a palm down swiftly.

This strike was fierce and fast, aimed directly at his solar plexus. If it connected, it would certainly throw him off balance, giving me a real opportunity. The ‘great tiger’ grunted, casually tucking his elbow in and dropping his center of gravity. With uncanny skill, he positioned his hard, thick elbow right where my palm was headed—a move of exquisite precision.

I couldn't allow that; a slight upward thrust from him, and I would be utterly humiliated. But my palm was already committed with too much momentum to retract fully. I had to slightly redirect the blow while my other hand moved up to support.

My palm swept past the edge of his uniform as lightly as brushing dust. The ‘great tiger’ smiled coldly, “Not bad performance just now, but too many flashy moves. Now, watch me.”

A sense of dread filled me, and I prepared to execute the final maneuver of the Thirty-Six Stratagems. But the ‘great tiger’ was already lunging at me, ferocious and menacing.

My vision swam. A massive fist appeared less than half a foot from my forehead. I instinctively drew my head back and raised my hand. The fist suddenly morphed, transforming from a giant palm into a thin blade, slicing down through the gap in my guard, landing squarely across my forehead.

I let out a sharp cry, about to fall backward, but then I felt that the contact was merely a tap. I laughed awkwardly, “What powerful palm wind!”

The ‘great tiger’ retracted his hand, looking at me. “Your strength is acceptable, but your movements are too slow, and you use too many tricks. You need to practice diligently.”

It seemed he was preparing to conclude the session. I replied with heartfelt gratitude, “Yes, yes, I will definitely practice hard.”

The ‘great tiger’ continued, “I will conduct unannounced assessments in the future. That’s all for today.” He added, “What you discovered earlier is very important. Although that person isn't Gao Jianning, he definitely exists, and you must find him. I’ve already started a full investigation into this matter and will notify you if I get any news.”

I was momentarily stunned. A great tiger is a great tiger; his actions are always a step ahead of mine. No wonder he was so certain Gao Jianning was innocent—he had already been investigating.

While I was lost in thought, the ‘great tiger’ strode away.

Thus, having narrowly escaped the tiger’s jaws, I returned to the office in a state of mixed joy and worry. As soon as I entered, I saw Xiao Xuan and the others inside my small office through the glass door. Huang Yang was sitting there, but her face was alarmingly pale, far whiter than before—it was clear that Gu Hengming’s death had hit her hard.

Just as I was about to go in, I remembered something else. I turned back to look at Gao Jianning. The fellow was hiding behind his computer, only his head showing, clearly knowing I had entered but not lifting his gaze.

Since Zhang Jiewei was handling things, I could leave Huang Yang’s case to him. However, I couldn't let that kid Gao Jianning off the hook; otherwise, the special operations division would descend into chaos.

I walked over and stood behind his computer, looking down at Gao Jianning, who was buried in his work—work that I didn't even know the details of. I said nothing, just watched him coldly.

Gao Jianning raised his head slightly, showing a confused expression. I remained motionless. The kid chuckled, “The chicken leg tasted great, but the duck wing was just okay. We should try a different place next time.”

Faced with such an impenetrable character, I resorted to the most direct form of communication: “Enough nonsense. If you don’t explain things clearly today, you’ll spit out everything you ate, just as you swallowed it!”

“It’s what Lord Jiang said. If you want to know anything else, I have the right to remain silent.” The fellow actually said that sarcastically, nearly making me pick up the computer and smash it.

I spat, “I wouldn't use your petty secrets even as a cleaning rag; don’t act so mysterious. Be careful you don’t get struck by lightning.”

Gao Jianning looked somewhat taken aback. He must have assumed I was deeply interested in his secrets, hence my insistence on clarity. But he completely misunderstood the mindset of a petty citizen like me, someone who only envied contented couples, not immortals. All those top-secret files and extreme classifications—to me, they were just floating clouds. I cared about only one thing...

I put on a fierce look and asked, “I’m asking you: did you plan all along to trick me into buying you a meal?”

That was the crux of the matter. Gao Jianning instantly crumbled, his face turning ashen. His eyes nervously scanned the keyboard; he didn't dare look at me.

I knew he must be remembering the time in childhood when I beat him black and blue over a single piece of bread. Now it was chicken legs and duck wings. If calculated by standard exchange rates, he’d be lucky to escape this without shedding a layer of skin.

After a long pause, Gao Jianning finally mustered his courage, “We agreed it was a free meal, no going back on your word.”

“Try saying that again?” I knew talking sense into him was useless now; only real action mattered.

Scholars are scholars, but this computer pest wasn't even that. Gao Jianning completely surrendered, “Brother, I was wrong, alright? It’s the end of the month; I can’t pay it back now. Can I vomit it out for you?”

“Enough, enough. Stop with the useless talk. Right now, I need someone to console me.”

“I’ll treat you when payday comes in a couple of days, okay?”

The mention of salary instantly revived my spirits. I pressed forward, demanding, “Just how much is your salary, and how many jobs are you collecting from?”

Just then, Xiao Xuan emerged from inside, looking at me. “Still messing around? Huang Yang has started talking. Aren't you going in to listen?”

I spread my hands. “Lord Jiang already said Zhang Jiewei is handling it; I just need to look at the report.”

Xiao Xuan rolled her eyes at me and slowly said, “Zhang Jiewei is really something. He always hits the key points during interrogations; working with him is so much easier.”

Hearing that, it felt like a sour date seed had been jammed into my sole; I nearly jumped up. Impatiently, I rushed into the small office, plopped down in a chair, and glared at Zhang Jiewei, thoroughly irritated.

But Zhang Jiewei’s attention was fixed entirely on Huang Yang, and Huang Yang’s focus was lost in her memories. Thus, the furious me was like a mass of air; no matter how much I agitated, no one paid me any mind.

Lacking an anchor, I felt uncomfortable, but professional conduct prevented me from interrupting their discussion. At that moment, Xiao Xuan walked in, placed a cup of tea in front of Huang Yang, and then sat down beside me. That familiar warmth instantly melted my heart; all my displeasure vanished like smoke. And I faintly sensed that Zhang Jiewei seemed to shift slightly—the movement was so small it was almost indiscernible, yet I felt it.

Huang Yang began to speak, “They are from the Canon Group. Hengming refused to tell me at first, but during our last meeting, he finally disclosed it. I think he felt a premonition then, which is why he told me these things.”

The Canon Group is the leading enterprise in Anyang, with operations spanning most of China, possessing immense strength. Even nationally, it is famous. It is a state-owned enterprise; its main executives are official personnel, and it is rumored that the head of the Canon Group holds a rank slightly higher than our Bureau Chief. You could say the Canon Group is an absolute behemoth in Anyang; its influence is so vast that it’s best not to elaborate here, lest certain high-ranking officials feel displeased.

Of course, prior to this, I felt nothing about this behemoth—its bigness was its business, and I remained a small-time cop. But things are different now. If it’s involved in a case I’m handling, then I must risk everything to contend with it. Though I have the guts to stab it to the core with a knife, solving a case relies on evidence, not reckless action. This contest is supposed to be fair, but such fairness is utterly unfair to a nobody like me.

Zhang Jiewei then asked, “Who were the people involved? Names, positions?”

Huang Yang replied, “I only know one of them is a Vice President of the Canon Group, named Liu Shun. The others are likely his subordinates, so Hengming didn’t list all their names. When he mentioned Liu Shun’s name, I could sense his fear. I even advised him to leave Anyang temporarily at the time, but I never expected...”

Watching this cold woman weep in sorrow, one couldn't help but feel deeply moved: when a woman entrusts her heart to another man, she involuntarily becomes his other half; losing him is equivalent to losing herself.

My worries were finally confirmed; the opposing party was indeed high-ranking. But a doubt arose simultaneously: why would a Vice President of the Canon Group, a man of considerable wealth and status, hold such a deep, deadly grudge against a small modeling agency and feel compelled to kill them?

Although I know many things cannot be judged purely by size or strength, murder is never a simple affair, especially homicides resulting from long deliberation. Most people, after careful consideration, ultimately abandon the thought of killing. The majority of murders that actually occur are crimes of sudden impulse, where blinding rage obscures reason, leading to irreparable disaster.

According to Huang Yang, the tense relationship between Gu Hengming and Liu Shun must have persisted for some time. During that period, as a state-owned enterprise VP, Liu Shun should have been able to calm down and find a solution that didn't require taking a life. Why didn't he do so?

Of course, these questions rest on the assumption that Liu Shun killed Gu Hengming. Beyond that, I have an even larger question: is Huang Yang even telling the truth?

This outwardly cold woman possesses a high degree of education and intelligence, yet she was entangled with Gu Hengming, a man living the fast life in the entertainment industry. This suggests her heart does not align with her appearance or her capabilities. Perhaps she harbored a lifelong dream of being a star, which, for whatever reason, never materialized, but in her depths, she always yearned for that decadent, intoxicating lifestyle. Thus, the two hit it off and became involved.

Their relationship is the critical pivot point for the Ou Jinglan series of dismemberment murders. Unlocking this point will be paramount to solving the entire case.

I know that all murderers deserve severe punishment under the law, but if I had a choice, I would definitely seek justice first for Ou Jinglan, Li Yalian, and Shi Yingjie, rather than for a womanizer and a mysterious woman I cannot fathom.

Toward a woman as deep as a fish in the abyss, I maintain a natural defensiveness; I must think thrice before trusting her.