Chapter 127: Catching the Pig

Criminal Investigation Team.

Image Processing Office.

Two pots of spider plants hung limp, their delicate leaves looking as if they'd been smoked to death—only inviting more cigarette butts to crush them.

The hydroponic pothos, by contrast, looked far cleaner, stretching its leaves out freely, shamelessly displaying its figure.

The bamboo palm, bought for seventy-five yuan, seemed like a government-subsidized employee, constantly wanting to say something in this smoky environment to prove its existence and purpose.

A dozen men crowded around the computer, glaring intently—their posture like a group watching a rare porn clip: furrowed brows, restless agitation, that hesitant, reluctant-to-leave expression.

Jiang Yuan sat before the computer, operating with a look of helpless resignation.

Ben Guo had described his meeting with the fake-ID youth Xiao Ba; ideally, they'd find a location with good surveillance footage to pinpoint Xiao Ba's residence or other whereabouts.

But unexpectedly, the parking lot where the two met had abysmal surveillance, and nearby cameras were all equally terrible.

In the past, this wasn't worth complaining about—Ningtai County's budget was limited; the more spent on surveillance, the less for the bosses' perks. Many surveillance systems, left unmaintained, had lost all systematic function in these backwater small towns.

If they weren't in a hurry, solutions existed: like a blind cat stumbling upon a dead rat—scanning surrounding cameras and hoping for luck. Or reverting to the old detective tactic of stakeouts. Or, of course, the eternal, unshakable ultimate method: systematic investigation.

If no choice existed, Huang Qiangmin would likely have made a difficult decision.

Yet most negative emotions in life ultimately stem from having choices.

Huang Qiangmin could choose to have Jiang Yuan enhance the footage, trying to restore video quality—then he'd have to sit quietly in the office, unable to go out hunting for luck or stakeouts.

But Jiang Yuan couldn't guarantee how much the image could be enhanced—or whether the desired scenes even existed within it.

At this moment, Huang Qiangmin recalled renting VHS tapes in his youth.

The dark, unmarked tapes always had tantalizing cover art and colorful descriptions—but once played, whether they contained what young men wanted to see was anyone's guess.

Yet Huang Qiangmin always chose to rent them and see.

Just like now, everyone was waiting for Jiang Yuan to restore the video.

For this group of burly men, it was a strangely entertaining experience.

For Jiang Yuan, the experience was peculiar.

"Uh… you don't need to get so close," Jiang Yuan reminded the big man beside him again.

Wu Junhao, captain of the First Platoon, chuckled and stepped back. "My eyesight's bad—I need to get closer to see clearly."

Gao Jiansheng, sitting far away at his desk pretending to work, rolled his eyes—he was too lazy to crowd near Jiang Yuan. What difference did it make if Wu Junhao saw clearly or not?

Still, Zhuang Wei had to admit: when Jiang Yuan enhanced images, he looked genuinely cool—his fingers flying, swift and impressive to watch.

"It'll still take another fifteen minutes. Why don't you sit down, have some water?" Jiang Yuan turned to look at the officers of the First Platoon.

"No need. We're not in a rush—we'll just wait and watch," Wu Junhao said.

The First and Second Platoons of the Ningtai County Criminal Investigation Team were unofficially designated as the heavy-case units; the difference was that the Second Platoon's Captain Liu was sharp and capable, while the First Platoon's Captain Wu Junhao was a bit simple-minded—since becoming captain, he'd preferred hiring big, muscular, physically imposing men.

Wu Junhao himself had a bold and generous spirit, often treating everyone to rou jia mo or hand-pulled pancakes—by police salary standards, this was like the heroes of Water Margin feasting on beef.

Over the years, the First Platoon had become the Criminal Investigation Team's bulldozer unit.

Honestly, in Ningtai County's environment, the First Platoon's explosive physical strength was incredibly useful. Whenever a violent criminal—a man brandishing a knife, shouting on a pedestrian street—saw a dozen burly officers closing in, he instantly remembered the spirit of the law.

From this perspective, Wu's First Platoon was also Ningtai County's de facto law-education unit.

Today, when they confirmed a big fish was in the net, Huang Qiangmin immediately recalled the First Platoon.

He sent the few remaining officers from the Second Platoon, plus personnel from the Fifth and Sixth Platoons, away with the political instructor—fearing they'd be short-handed chasing fugitives.

But he kept the entire First Platoon here, waiting for Jiang Yuan's results before launching the operation.

But Jiang Yuan couldn't work that fast.

Even though it looked dazzlingly fast.

Jiang Yuan restored seven or eight video frames at once, then searched for Ben Guo within them.

Since they had only a time range—not an exact time—and the location was uncertain, Jiang Yuan had to restore multiple time segments.

But such footage didn't need to be crystal clear—just enough to identify similar body shapes, clothing, and colors to confirm it was Ben Guo; finer details could be refined later, saving considerable effort.

Image enhancement wasn't a one-shot process; some algorithms required repeated runs.

One pass produced one result; a second pass, a third, a fourth—each iteration adjusted parameters until a relatively clear image emerged.

To save time, Jiang Yuan drastically altered his algorithms and parameters.

The burly men of the bulldozer unit just watched the spectacle; Zhuang Wei and others nearby were drenched in sweat.

Why did it change again?

Why set parameters like this?

What did I write in my notes yesterday?

Overwhelmed by these soul-searching questions, Zhuang Wei finally asked: "Jiang Yuan, the parameters you just adjusted are completely different from the ones before."

"Yeah, the earlier parameters still had too much deviation," Jiang Yuan replied.

"And they're also very different from the ones before that."

"Oh, I switched the algorithm too," Jiang Yuan murmured—making Zhuang Wei's face flush red.

He'd been thinking so hard he hadn't noticed what Jiang Yuan had done.

Of course, mainly because he was too weak.

When your skill is poor, everything looks like a master; when you read little, everything seems an unsolved mystery; when you hold power, everything looks like a 404.

Jiang Yuan had little attention left for Zhuang Wei.

Enhancing images wasn't like fingerprint analysis—it consumed enormous mental energy, and with a group of big men waiting for results, Jiang Yuan's focus was fully stretched.

Extract a segment, generate a few images, discard a few, then generate more.

As this cycle continued, others watched Jiang Yuan's fingers fly across the keyboard, feeling nothing but awe—wondering what year it was, when this would end…

The computer's main unit howled, as if it might collapse at any moment.

Huang Qiangmin silently sent a WeChat message to the logistics officer: "Buy Jiang Yuan a new computer already. You can dodge the first day, but not the fifteenth."

…

"Found it—this is it," Jiang Yuan finally pulled up the image.

On the screen, Ben Guo was talking to a young man.

Ben Guo, old in age, smiled humbly—showing the basic skills of a petty thief.

The young man beside him wore a plaid shirt, had thin hair, carried a black briefcase with a faint Japanese style, and wore black-rimmed glasses—radiating an unmistakable subway vibe.

Jiang Yuan ran the algorithm two more times, sharpening the image enough to clearly see the faces of Ben Guo and the young man.

"This must be Xiao Ba, the one who returned home to start a business," Huang Qiangmin stared for a moment, then ordered the image printed and distributed to every member of the First Platoon.

Jiang Yuan continued processing the video, first tracing Xiao Ba's path in the plaid shirt to see where he went.

Following this trail into areas with intact footage, Zhuang Wei, the First-Generation Image Officer of the Criminal Investigation Team's Image Office, finally had something to do.

Wu Junhao confirmed Xiao Ba's direction and no longer waited—he stuffed the printed image into his pocket and said to Huang Qiangmin: "Let's get in the car and head toward Shuixiu."

"Alright. Act on the situation. Key point: catch him red-handed. Not just arrest him—I need his data. Don't let him destroy his phone or computer." Huang Qiangmin trusted Wu Junhao completely—otherwise he wouldn't have made them wait for Jiang Yuan.

He'd go to the scene later, to avoid interfering with Wu Junhao's command.

This kind of arrest was like catching a pig: when it goes smoothly, the pig stands still, seemingly without any resistance. But if it goes badly and the pig escapes, it becomes a heart-pounding pig-catching contest.

Wu Junhao just grunted, reached the office door, and called out: "Jiang the Forensic, hurry up—I'll give you a massage later!"

Jiang Yuan froze: "What?"

"My massage skills are top-notch—ask the guys, right?" Wu Junhao called out.

The dozen big men chorused: "Right!"