Chapter 9: Investigating the Big Client (Part 1)
I seemed to have some flickering consciousness—adrift in a void, my mind cycling between clarity and haze. The world turned slowly around me. Dimly, I saw figures walking toward me, blood spreading across shards of glass. Their footsteps stopped in front of my body. I thought I could hear Officer Carter calling out, but his voice was distant and indistinct.
My awareness grew hazier. In a god's-eye vision, I saw myself standing on a rooftop. Wendy Xu sat beside me, her face drained of color, blood slowly seeping through her clothes. She reached out a hand toward me, her voice sharp and cold: "Where were you when I died!"
I snapped awake!
Everything around me was dim. I couldn't see where I was, and when I tried to move, I realized I was tightly bound.
I thrashed about, and the sound of metal rang out—my feet were striking something metallic inside a cramped space.
Suddenly, light flooded in.
I was in the trunk of a car—that explained the claustrophobic darkness.
Boss Drake opened the lid and regarded me with interest. "Little brother, our reunion came faster than expected."
I stared at him, blank. It was already daylight. But if I remembered correctly, Boss Drake was supposed to be meeting Detective Sullivan right now. How could he be here?
He said, "You're probably wondering why I wasn't arrested and how I'm standing in front of you."
"Boss... I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play dumb."
He grabbed me by the collar and hauled me upright, then patted my cheek. "That whole box of gold bars—and you think I wouldn't have taken precautions? Let me tell you something: out of an entire case of gold bars, exactly one was fake. I had a tracker embedded inside it."
I swallowed hard. His expression grew even colder.
"If that idiot Swallow hadn't been so cowardly—if she hadn't been too scared to report the theft for a whole night—I wouldn't have lost so much gold. Once I found out and checked the tracker... the damn signal was coming from a police station! You bastard—you were working with the cops from the start!"
He slammed a fist into my face, sending me reeling backward into the edge of the trunk. Before I could recover, he grabbed me by the hair and slapped me again and again, roaring: "Turned it in to the police, did you?! Tiger Lin has been with me for years—do you think I wanted to cut off his sister's hand? I knew my gold was gone! GONE!"
The beating left me dazed—I'd barely regained consciousness and was already spinning. Boss Drake noticed my distress and grabbed a bottle of water, dumping it over my head. The cold snapped me back to alertness.
I opened my mouth and drank desperately, choking and coughing.
He tossed the empty bottle aside and said icily: "That idiot Tiger Lin went chasing after the gold. I knew it was pointless from the start. I sent him to find you because I can't fight the police—but I can fight you!"
I gasped, my voice weak: "If you already knew, why go through this whole charade? You could have killed me in your office. Why let Tiger Lin take me to meet the cops?"
He sneered: "You think I'm a vegetarian? Once the police had me in their sights, I decided to use the situation. If they hadn't been so clever—pulling most of their forces to rush that old ancestral hall—I couldn't have gotten my brothers out so smoothly."
I looked around and realized—I wasn't in the city anymore.
Outside the car was a desolate mountain range.
"The police have been trying to uncover my real identity. I've been playing a businessman in the city, but I knew they'd see through me eventually. Let me tell you—I could have slipped away on my own long ago. Guess why I didn't? Because of the men behind me. Look at them—several of them are carrying murder charges. Some are already under suspicion. Getting them all out would have been nearly impossible. But last night, thanks to you, they got out clean..."
He gestured at the men standing behind him, lined up in deferential silence.
Boss Drake grabbed me by the hair and murmured: "Don't let their loyalty fool you. If these men found out I was planning to cut and run, they'd be the first ones to chop me into pieces. You know why it's so hard for a boss to step down? It's not about responsibility—it's because the little guys have staked their lives on you. The moment you say you're tired and want out, they turn on you. But thanks to you... I got them out."
My heart sank.
Boss Drake had used me—and Sullivan?
"When the bulk of the detective force pulled out on their own initiative, it was our opportunity. Some of them were already being tailed by police. Last night, with the police presence suddenly empty, I got everyone I could out. You and that cop deserve a lot of credit."
I couldn't help asking: "Then why take the risk of capturing me again? You could have just escaped. Why bring me along?"
"Because you're useful."
"What use could I be to you?"
Boss Drake didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out his phone and played a recording.
A familiar voice came through the speaker: "How do I know this person can be trusted? What if he pockets my money?"
My eyes went wide, locked on the phone.
He asked: "Do you recognize this voice?"
I swallowed. "It's Victor Li's voice."
"Just as I thought!"
Boss Drake's face lit up. He sat on the edge of the trunk, unable to conceal his satisfaction. "Let me tell you my story."
It turned out that some time ago, Boss Drake had received a big client.
This client wanted to smuggle himself out of the country, but even if he could get out, his money couldn't—not easily. Smuggling abroad was one thing, but converting massive amounts of Chinese currency overseas was another problem entirely. If the sum was too large, even the black market couldn't absorb it all.
But gold was different. Gold could move anywhere, and there was always a buyer, no matter the quantity.
So the client went through an intermediary and contacted Boss Drake.
Boss Drake had never handled a shipment this big, and he took it seriously. He'd never met the client face-to-face—everything went through a guarantor. The client paid upfront, and Boss Drake sourced a massive shipment of American-style gold bars for delivery.
But then, entirely by accident, one whole case of gold bars ended up in police hands.
Boss Drake couldn't afford to alienate the intermediary—that was someone with serious connections. Crossing the law was manageable; crossing the underworld was a death sentence. The police might follow procedures, but a determined enemy could hire a ruthless hitman to hound you day and night, waiting for the right moment to stick a knife in you a dozen times.
So after losing the gold, Boss Drake was consumed with anxiety—he couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. He made two preparations: first, he tried to scrape together the money to compensate the client, but his entire fortune wasn't a fraction of what was owed. Second, he quietly investigated the client's true identity, hoping to negotiate a solution.
And his investigation turned up something unexpected.
The big client was... Victor Li, the city's famous real estate developer?
Boss Drake had never met the client or even spoken to him—everything was handled through the intermediary. But the client and the intermediary had once used Boss Drake's private tea room for a meeting. Boss Drake always kept listening devices in his tea rooms as insurance, and that's how he got this recording.
Boss Drake mused: "If my mystery client really is Victor Li, that means the intended recipient is already dead. And if the recipient is dead, what's left to argue about? I negotiate a settlement with the intermediary, grease a few palms, and I'm off the hook."
I said: "So you needed me to confirm whether the voice on that recording belongs to Victor Li?"
"Exactly. But that's only the first step." Boss Drake grew serious. "I need further confirmation of the client's identity. You can never be too careful. Without one hundred percent certainty, I won't put myself at risk. Tell me everything you know."
I told him: "Victor Li was betrayed by his own confidant, Tai Sun."
"Why?"