Chapter 344: He is just like a ghost!

Above the ocean!

A private jet of London Airlines is flying westward in the night sky.

The lights inside the cabin are dimmed.

Only a few reading lights are on.

The clouds outside the porthole shimmer with a silvery-gray luster under the moonlight, like a boundless snowfield.

The low roar of the engines drifts in from both sides of the fuselage.

Constant and steady.

In the last row of the cabin, by the aisle, is Li Changyu's seat.

At this moment, he is closing his eyes to rest, enjoying a rare moment of downtime.

"Ring-ring!"

Suddenly.

The satellite phone beside the seat lights up.

The shrill ringing sounds three times in the cabin.

Startled awake, Li Changyu answers the phone immediately.

"Hello? Oh, Henry."

The voice on the other end of the line is deep and urgent: "It's me!"

Li Changyu skips the pleasantries.

He switches the phone to his left hand, turns his body slightly toward the porthole, and speaks in a low voice, yet every word nails into the receiver like a spike.

"Henry, how is it on your end?"

The person calling is named Henry Sloan, the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

At this moment, he is standing in the monitoring room of the Command Center on the seventh floor of the FBI office building.

Henry holds the phone in his hand, facing a video wall composed of twenty-four 55-inch LCD screens.

Each screen displays a different image—aerial footage of the Metropolitan Opera House, surveillance of the surrounding blocks, internal recordings from the United Health Annual Meeting, and that live broadcast currently going viral globally!

In the center of the video wall, on the largest screen, Chu Chen stands in the middle of the stage, hands in his trouser pockets, with that line of white numbers, now reduced to eleven digits, behind him.

"This guy is truly insane..." Henry's voice comes through the other end of the receiver again: "Dr. Li, this 'magic trick' made the headlines of all major global media twenty minutes ago. Our technical team is investigating, but we haven't found any leads. You might not believe this, but even these genius hackers can't do anything about him. Logically, he should have cracked the bank's encrypted network to transfer the funds, but our technicians haven't found any traces of the bank's network being attacked at all!"

Li Changyu is also a bit bewildered.

He sits up straight and continues to ask: "Then how is all of this to be explained?"

The other end of the phone sighs.

It sounds somewhat helpless.

After a moment, Henry continues: "Twenty minutes ago, the Special Task Force from the New York Branch entered the Metropolitan Opera House. But they are encountering a problem now."

"What problem?"

Henry's speaking pace slows down, like a machine losing speed: "In front of everyone, he transferred funds from a United States citizen's account into thousands of other people's accounts. Under the legal framework of the United States, this is a textbook case of unauthorized access to a computer system, wire fraud, and money laundering—at least three federal felonies. But because we haven't found any technical evidence to prove he hacked into any system so far. None. Not a single byte of evidence. He is like a ghost, leaving no traces behind..."

Li Changyu falls silent.

"So, we cannot carry out an arrest for the time being." Henry spits out these words with effort: "But they have already sealed off all entrances and exits of the Metropolitan Opera House, and traffic in the surrounding three blocks has been restricted. Agents from the New York Branch are recording video, taking photos, and collecting physical evidence on-site. The Intelligence Technology Group is analyzing all network logs, bank statements, and communication records. It's just that, so far, there is zero progress."

Li Changyu closes his eyes.

Under the dim cabin lights, his face looks like a stone statue polished by time, with the memories of thousands of cases hidden in every wrinkle.

"Henry, listen to me." Li Changyu's voice suddenly becomes deeper, sinking like water drawn from a deep well, cold and clear.

"This case cannot be handled with conventional thinking. He isn't using your systems; he is using your perceptions. You assume he must hack into the bank to transfer money, so you are desperately looking for evidence of him hacking the bank. But what if he didn't hack in? What if his methods are completely outside your search parameters?"

The other end of the phone is quiet for two seconds.

"Then tell me, what should I do?"

Li Changyu's voice is very low, but his tone carries that intuitive judgment of case progression that only forms after solving enough cases: "Do not use the force you have to confront what he is doing. Control the scene and do not let the situation deteriorate further. Since there is no evidence, find a way to invite him back to the Federal Bureau of Investigation to assist with the investigation first. In any case, no matter what, you must keep him there! I believe you can do it! Once I arrive in the United States, I will contact you immediately!"

Henry does not ask why.

He doesn't need to ask.

Because the person on the other end of the phone was the one who taught him "when to act and when to wait" back when he was just a fledgling police officer at the Connecticut State Police.

"Alright, I'll wait for you." Henry finishes these words and hangs up the phone.

Li Changyu puts the satellite phone back on the table, leans back in his chair, and closes his eyes again.

At the same time!

United States, Federal Bureau of Investigation!

Henry puts down the phone and stares blankly for a long time.

Outside the window is the skyline of the capital in the dead of night, the tip of the obelisk looming in the darkness in the distance, like a needle pointing to the sky.

He does not look out the window; his gaze falls on the massive video wall, on Chu Chen's face on the largest screen.

The next second, he picks up the internal phone on the desk and presses a button.

The phone on the other end is answered after two rings.

"Hank, come to my office."

In less than two minutes, there is a knock on the door.

Entering is a burly Black man in his early forties.

His dark gray suit jacket is open, and his tie hangs loosely at his collar.

His face carries the exhaustion unique to someone dragged from sleep by a middle-of-the-night call, but his eyes are clear.

Hank is a Detective of the Criminal Investigation Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Previously, he had dealt with Zhou Yun, Zheng Yang, and the others once.

"Hank, you know the situation in New York, right?"

Hank walked to the video wall, his gaze sweeping across the screens before stopping on Chu Chen. He nodded.

"I've seen it. Twenty minutes ago, New York sent me a briefing, saying the scene has been cordoned off, but no action has been taken yet."

Henry walked out from behind his desk and stood next to Hank; the two stood side by side facing the massive video wall.

On the screen, Chu Chen was walking around on stage, his hands in his trouser pockets, his posture as leisurely as someone taking a stroll in a park.

"The technical team hasn't made any progress."

Henry's voice was not loud, but his tone held the composure unique to a veteran agent who remains calm even in a predicament: "No evidence of any bank system being breached has been found. No traces of any cyberattack. No records of any malware installation. Nothing at all."

Hank turned his head to look at him: "We currently have no evidence to prove he is the mastermind behind all of this."

"Not a single byte of evidence." Henry repeated what he had said to Li Changyu on the phone, "According to the law, we have no reason to arrest him. At least not for now."

"Then what about the scene? The Special Task Force of the New York Branch is already in position, and they are waiting for orders."

Henry turned around, walked back to the desk, picked up a document, and then put it back down. His movements were somewhat hesitant, which was extremely rare in Hank's perception of him.

Henry Sloan was not a man who would hesitate.

He had worked at the FBI for over thirty years, rising from a field agent to the top position, and his decision-making speed was known for being fast.

But at this moment, his fingers lingered on the edge of the document for a few seconds.

"Dr. Li gave me a suggestion over the phone," Henry said.

Hank's eyebrows twitched slightly. "What did he say?"

"He is on a plane to the United States. His suggestion is—do not use our Force to oppose what Chu Chen is doing. Control the scene first, and after the performance ends, find a way to invite him back to assist with the investigation."

"I'm afraid he won't cooperate."

Hank looked at the line of constantly changing numbers on the screen and muttered.

Henry looked at him and continued:

"Regardless, seal off the scene first and don't let the situation deteriorate further. After the performance ends, wait for him to come down from the stage, then invite him back to the bureau to assist with the investigation. The technical team is still analyzing; without evidence, we cannot act rashly. If something goes wrong, we cannot bear the responsibility."

Hank nodded: "Understood."

He turned and walked two steps toward the door, then stopped and looked back: "Director, what if he disappears before he comes down from the stage? Just like he did in London before?"

"Then find a way to make sure he doesn't disappear." Henry's voice lowered, as if he were talking to himself.

Hank did not ask again and pushed the door open to leave.