Chapter 361

Evening.

All the shops along the street had closed their doors; Lei Fuhan lowered the roller shutter and prepared to lock up and go home.

Two dark shadows emerged from the corner, each grabbing one arm and shoving Lei Fuhan between their armpits.

Armpit clamped against armpit, doubling the stench, combined with his neck twisted to an extreme angle—Lei Fuhan nearly passed out on the spot.

"What's your name?" the shadow whispered, waving a hand as more shadows swiftly slipped through the roller shutter.

Lei Fuhan's tense nerves somehow eased.

If this were an ordinary person, snatched in the middle of the night and asked their name, they'd likely feel anger, absurdity, even amusement.

But Lei Fuhan had been to prison; men who'd been to prison learned to be sensible instantly—they knew he was facing police, which was good, at least he wouldn't be stabbed dead on the spot for robbery.

"Lei Fuhan," he whispered. "My buddies all call me Old Lei."

"Do you know why we're taking you?" Officer Zheng Bing, assisting his colleague, snapped handcuffs onto Lei Fuhan with a click, also relaxing slightly.

The captured man was tense, but so were the captors—this was a massive family massacre case, and the most critical lead was right before them; losing him was unacceptable, crushing him to death in an armpit was even worse, and striking the right balance was no easy task—at least not for Comrade Zheng Bing. He had held back his strength the entire time.

Lei Fuhan was chubby with a thick neck—looked sturdy, but actually frail—and now, after being jostled a couple times, he was panting: "Did I buy something I shouldn't have?"

"Think again," Zheng Bing grunted.

"I… I really don't know! Honestly, when I collect goods at the market, I can't be like a bank—rejecting this, accepting that. Some people are desperate for cash; if it's close enough, I help them out…" Lei Fuhan explained with all his might, as if truly innocent.

At that moment, Political Commissar Liu walked over and demanded bluntly: "Did you also take items from Ma Zhongli's house?"

Lei Fuhan's mental preparation was incomplete—he froze.

In that instant, Political Commissar Liu was certain: they hadn't arrested the wrong man.

In fact, DNA matching had already been completed; Jiang Yuan's fingerprint match had allowed them to locate Lei Fuhan two hours ahead of schedule.

By now, the basic evidence was in place. But their goal wasn't to arrest Lei Fuhan—it was to use him to uncover the new identities of Xu Yang, Fan Peng, and the other two.

To obtain a second-generation ID valid for high-speed rail, or to find an ID with a similar face, required considerable time and money. After committing the crime, Xu Yang and the others spent several days breaking into the safe, then sought Lei Fuhan to fence the stolen goods, and waited for fake IDs—taking over a week total.

Based on the timeline, they absolutely couldn't have obtained new fake IDs by now—though whether they had the funds or connections was another matter.

In short, extracting the trio's new identities now was the most advantageous move for the manhunt, offering a chance to resolve everything in one decisive strike.

At this moment, the officers who had searched the shop emerged and whispered to Political Commissar Liu: "This guy melted down a lot of gold. We found five diamonds, several gems, and crystals in the drawer—shapes matching photos from Ma Zhongli's home."

"Go inside," Political Commissar Liu said, dragging Lei Fuhan with him.

The diamonds and gems lay in the drawer beneath the counter, being photographed by other detectives.

Seeing this, Lei Fuhan immediately regretted it.

He'd melted all the gold he collected; the diamonds and gems he'd removed were worth more than just a few thousand yuan—but if he sold them himself, he'd only get a few thousand.

But as a businessman, even a few thousand yuan was his profit; he couldn't bear to smash or throw them away.

"Tell us where they came from," Political Commissar Liu said, placing the photos beside the diamonds and gems for comparison.

Lei Fuhan opened his mouth but couldn't speak: "I…"

"Lei Fuhan, we don't want you—we want the others. Think clearly. If we fail to catch them, we'll turn our full attention to you." Political Commissar Liu grew menacing, making Lei Fuhan's legs tremble.

This wasn't a movie—Political Commissar Liu's threat was real. The items in his shop, even at the lowest estimate, carried a sentence of three years or more; ten years or more was also possible.

"Sigh… when I collected these things, I didn't know what they were doing…" Lei Fuhan sighed deeply and began speaking obediently.

Soon, technicians extracted photos of the trio's new IDs from Lei Fuhan's computer.

"Wang Wei… that's the name? You guys really did a shoddy job," Political Commissar Liu muttered, then immediately contacted the bureau to issue a wanted notice and ordered cyber and technical units to mobilize.

Nowadays, unless someone lived deep in the mountains, they couldn't live without a mobile phone; ordinary people couldn't even manage to turn it off constantly or stay inside a Faraday cage for long—so if you had a phone number, you had a high chance of finding them.

But changing phone numbers was easy; changing IDs wasn't. In such a short time, any link requiring ID-phone binding would inevitably expose them.

On their way back, the latest update arrived:

"They went to Pingzhou. Location confirmed."

Just those few words made the entire Chiyong City Criminal Investigation Brigade breathe a collective sigh of relief.

One of the worst cases in recent years had finally shown hope—offering solace to both investigators and victims.

The brigade commander immediately organized personnel to move in; Political Commissar Liu, as the senior investigator, unsurprisingly was dispatched again.

He didn't waste time—only said over the phone: "Jiang Yuan and the others have already left. Otherwise, at least let the families meet them. The families really want to express their gratitude."

"This time, we didn't take it seriously enough," the brigade commander sighed. "Go catch them first. We'll figure out how to make up for this later—there'll be plenty more times we'll need them."

For detectives, failing to solve cases was common; encountering hard ones was even more common.

If possible, as brigade commander, he didn't want to endure another grueling investigation process.

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Just solve the case easily—or if not, at least make it slightly hard, but not unbearably so… even if it's unbearably hard, at least solve it.

What detectives feared most was being utterly exhausted, yet still failing to solve the case, then getting scolded by the victims' families—it would truly break them.

Political Commissar Liu took over thirty men to Pingzhou.

This time, they were facing real killers—a trio who had massacred four people; when apprehended, resistance was virtually guaranteed.

In such a situation, any officer willing to act as a lone hero would be irresponsible. Bringing too few men made no sense.

After all the effort, time, and money spent solving this case, now that they'd finally caught the trail, they couldn't afford even the slightest chance of escape.

Even with a full platoon, Political Commissar Liu felt it was too few.

This wasn't warfare, but in complex terrain, dispersed forces were necessary—and since they were unfamiliar with the area, he felt uneasy, so he contacted local contacts and requested a company of armed police.

The armed police had long guns—real weapons capable of lethal force, unlike the police's tiny stun guns, which were good only for noise and couldn't even kill a dog. Political Commissar Liu hadn't brought any, nor even bothered to borrow any; his thirty-odd men were prepared to fight with cold weapons.

…

Ningtai County.

On the third day after Jiang Yuan returned home, just as he'd nearly recovered, news arrived from Chiyong City.

"Captain Jiang, we've successfully arrested Xu Yang and the other three!" Political Commissar Liu's voice brimmed with joy.

Jiang Yuan checked the time—damn, it was 9 p. . They were genuinely thrilled.

"Good they're caught," Jiang Yuan's mood lifted too; the case had reached a proper conclusion, and he was pleased. "Was it through the fencing lead?"

"Yes. They fled to Pingzhou and grew careless—we trapped them in a small inn." Political Commissar Liu hadn't needed the large force he'd borrowed, but he didn't mind—in fact, he was even happier.

Jiang Yuan grew slightly curious: "Did they confess anything? What was their motive?"

"Fan Peng instigated it—the second guy, the one with the knife. He'd built houses for people in Ma Zhongli's village, doing masonry work. Later, when he went to the city for work, he approached Ma Zhongli, hoping for some old connection to get a job—he failed, and grew resentful. By year-end, he gambled and lost all his wages; the other two also lost theirs. Together, they decided to rob a wealthy man and settled on Ma Zhongli." Political Commissar Liu sighed heavily.

After a pause, he continued: "They never planned to kill, but Ma Zhongli resisted fiercely. Fan Peng's name was shouted out by his accomplices—he lost his nerve and went for the kill."

Jiang Yuan: "But the fatal wounds were from a hammer."

"Because Fan Peng couldn't even kill with a knife. Xu Yang feared Ma Zhongli might escape, so he grabbed the hammer." Political Commissar Liu shook his head inwardly. The truth uncovered after solving a case was often ugly.

Jiang Yuan also shook his head lightly, then opened the screen in his room and reviewed his home surveillance footage before finally falling asleep.

Intruders who committed robbery and murder resulting in a family massacre would not survive in China's courts; if the process moved quickly, execution could be carried out within several months.

Jiang Yuan slept soundly that night.