Chapter 400: It really is you

The handwriting professor moved aside the professional magnifying glass he used for work, rubbed his eyes, and a look of satisfaction subsequently appeared on his face.

He had found the source of that handwriting.

This job was actually much easier than the previous ones.

Letters are not like pictographs; their structure is simpler, and the method of writing them is fixed. From where one starts the stroke to where one stops, the production of every letter during the writing process is basically fixed.

The more one writes, the more troublesome it becomes to identify the handwriting, unless there is some relatively personal or stylized content.

For example, some people like to write certain fonts longer, or wider, or flatter, or perhaps add some calligraphy-style flourishes to make the entire paragraph look more elegant.

When there are these personal touches, it is much easier to distinguish different handwriting.

The previous handwriting samples were all the most ordinary, with no personal flair, as if they were written casually in people's work and daily lives, rather than written intentionally.

The font he had selected was very common, yet not quite normal; he saw some places where the pen pressure changed significantly, so it was somewhat troublesome to analyze.

But the material he received to analyze this time was relatively much simpler.

A group of gang members, most of whom hadn't really written much since high school; the handwriting each of them produced was extremely personalized, and everyone's personalization was different!

Some people could even write a circular character into a polygon or even a rectangle; this obvious personal style could be seen at a glance, and it was clear they were not the ones he was looking for.

Finally, in one of the materials, he discovered handwriting similar to that on the note.

In fact, there were still some differences in the handwriting; handwriting can never be exactly the same, just as there cannot be two identical eggs in the world.

The same letter, written by the same person with the same pen, will also yield two different results.

The professor looked at the traces of the pen pressure "flowing" on the paper; some minute details might not be discovered by ordinary people themselves, but in the eyes of an expert, they were as obvious as fireflies in the dark night.

In order not to make a mistake, he spent more than two days studying these two samples, and finally, he confirmed that these were written by the same person.

After recording this evidence and keeping it properly, he made a phone call to Lans.

"Mr. Lans, I have found him!"

When Lans heard this, he asked softly, "May I know his name?"

"Of course, this is your right, Mr. Lans."

"The name he filled out on this form is... Beno."

"I think I should let you see in person how I arrived at these conclusions. Although graphology has been applied to the federal judicial system, some people think we are just messing around, so..."

Lans did not refuse. "Come over now; I also happen to want to learn a thing or two."

He hung up the phone and looked at the few people in the room. "Found that mole."

"Who is it?" asked Hailamu, who was playing with a dagger. He had a bit of a cold recently, sniffling and making gurgling sounds.

What made people feel even more disgusted was when he would inhale into his nose, concentrating the mucus from his trachea into his throat, and then... you thought he would spit it out?

No, he would swallow it!

The first time Lans saw this scene, he cursed directly and even felt a bit nauseous!

He asked Hailamu, "Are you fucking unable to spit?"

Hailamu said stubbornly, "I can."

Lans said again, "Very well, then spit one out right now, goddammit!"

After a brief silence, he had completed ninety percent of the spitting steps, leaving only the act of coughing up the phlegm and then spitting it out.

As a result, Lans saw his Adam's apple slide up and down, and everyone in the room was about to collapse.

Yet he said with an innocent face, "Well, I guess I can't!"

Now hearing his question, Lans rolled his eyes. "You should go take a rest and, by the way, learn how to spit. I'm serious."

However, he still told Hailamu who it was. "This university professor told me it's Beno."

Everyone in the room felt quite surprised; Beno was actually quite popular.

He could cater very well to everyone, regardless of whether that person was a cadre, a team leader, or an ordinary gang member.

Although Lans had been emphasizing that the Lans family was a big family and everyone was brothers and sisters in the family, as more and more people joined, there would certainly be a sense of unfamiliarity between them, and there were conflicts between a small number of people.

Beno was the kind of person who could quickly become friends with anyone; even if they weren't friends in the true sense, they could still become superficial friends.

He knew the vast majority of people and liked to chat with people everywhere during his spare time; he was one of the very active people in the family, just like Allen and the others.

And it was precisely because he was very active and his personality hit it off with Allen's that they became good friends.

Now that they knew Beno was highly suspicious, their first feeling was "this is very reasonable," because only in this way could he obtain a lot of information and clues without being suspected.

Lao En scratched his neck. "Allen and the others are delivering goods today; should we call them back?"

Lans nodded. "Call Allen back; let Beno continue to lead the others to work."

Twenty minutes later, Allen hurried back to the office; he even had some dust on him that hadn't been cleaned off.

His face was full of smiles. After pushing the door open and seeing that there were quite a few people here, he immediately greeted everyone enthusiastically, took out cigarettes, and began distributing them.

Lans was also given one by him. He held it in his hand, and Allen took out matches with a grin to light it for him. "Boss, is there anything you want us to do?"

He put the matches into the ashtray and patted his chest. "I guarantee we can finish it quickly and well!"

Lans just looked at him with a half-smile. He paused, then turned to look at the other cadres on the sofa in the room. The expressions of these people made his heart "thump," and a feeling that things were not going well immediately arose.

"What... happened?" He returned to the opposite side of Lans's desk instead of standing beside Lans.

Lans pointed to the chair beside him. "Sit down; you'll know in a moment."

Clearly there was a soft cushion under his butt, but for some reason, it felt like there were many steel needles, making him very uncomfortable and restless.

In fact, he already had some guesses, but he was unwilling to admit this result.

While waiting, he didn't know how much time had passed when someone knocked on the door.

He turned around abruptly and looked toward the door. A person he had never seen before walked in.

The graphology professor didn't know there were so many people here, but he thought... perhaps this was their style. He came to Lans's desk somewhat restrained.

"We all want to see how you arrived at this conclusion. No problem, right?"

The graphology professor shook his head. "Of course, I have no problem at all, and this is also the purpose of my coming here."

As he spoke, he placed the materials on the table; these were two enlarged photographs.

First, use the best camera to take pictures to ensure that the two handwriting samples taken are clear, and then enlarge them.

After enlarging to a certain extent, one can clearly see some things that are usually invisible, such as the "fluidity" of the pen when writing these letters.

Everyone gathered around, and the professor had already circled some places with a pen. "From these places, we can see that his start and finish of the strokes are almost exactly the same."

"There are some changes in the writing process within the font; some of these changes are not obvious, but some are very obvious."

"When writing these things, this person was careful not to let his handwriting look the same as his usual writing, but he wasn't too sure how to do it, so these places give people a sense of uncoordinated fragmentation."

Everyone was looking at the places he mentioned, and Lans was also looking, and very carefully, as was Allen.

"... Finally, I reached a conclusion: the handwriting on these two materials should come from the same person."

After saying this, the professor closed his mouth.

Lans also sat back down, and the others returned to the sofa to sit down with unpleasant expressions.

"Kelinda, help me see the professor off!" Lans picked up the phone, let the girl outside the door come in, and at the same time took an envelope out of the drawer and placed it on the table.

"I gave you an extra two hundred dollars. Thank you for taking the time to do me a small favor. Perhaps we will have opportunities to cooperate in the future."

"Of course, if you encounter trouble, you can also look for me. Now you are my friend."

The professor wasn't embarrassed either; he directly picked up the envelope with a smile. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to open it immediately and count it.

He looked at Lans and bowed slightly. "This is what I should do." For the sake of money, of course, he didn't mind having one more omnipotent friend.

Soon Kelinda pushed the door open and stood by the door, chewing gum and looking at the professor.

The professor glanced at the things on the table and said with a smile, "I won't take these away, so I..."

Lans got up and shook hands with him. "Thank you again for your help. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Mr. Lans."

He soon left with Kelinda, and Lans looked at Allen and said the name: "Beno."

Allen's expression had always looked very conflicted and painful; he clenched his fists and soon let go again.

He felt very uncomfortable in his heart because he really treated Beno as a brother, but... he didn't know why he would be that mole.

He rubbed his face hard. "What should I do?"

Lans's finger pads stroked his eyebrows in the direction of his eyebrows. "Your brother, you handle him."

"Ask him something you care about, or don't ask, either is fine."

"The only result we want is one."

Allen stood up, and the chair was also pushed by his legs, making a friction sound on the floor. "I understand; I'm going to do the work."

Lans nodded slightly. "Stay safe."

"Allen, you treat him as your brother, but you have to ask yourself in reverse: does he really treat you as his brother too?"

Watching his back as he left with a heavy heart, Lans heard that damn sound from the trachea and throat again.

"Fuck, Hailamu, fuck!"

"I have to find something for you to do. You take people to follow Allen; in case there is an accident, take action directly!"

No matter what, let him leave the office first. As soon as he heard that sound, Lans felt a bit nauseous, a bit like he wanted to puke.

Damn!

Hailamu stood up indignantly and protested loudly, "This is discrimination!"

"This is naked discrimination against people who can't spit! I protest!"

Because his nose was a bit blocked, his voice was quite muffled, and unlike his usual speech, it was all nasal.

The people around laughed, and Lao En even kicked him in the butt. "Get lost quickly; we can't stand it anymore!"

He patted his butt and left while cursing. He picked a few people, then got into a car and followed Allen.

Allen didn't notice that he was being followed; his mind was full of the fact that his good brother was a mole. He was very hurt now!

Along the way, his mind was a bit chaotic. When he arrived at the place where they worked, Beno took the initiative to greet him.

"What did the Boss ask you to do? Is there a new mission?"

In the past, Allen might have thought this was his enthusiasm and attitude toward work, but now, when he accepted the fact that Beno was a mole, this became like a probe, a way of prying.

He shook his head. "Come over; I need to talk to you." He stood outside the warehouse.

Beno looked back at the people working in the warehouse. He had no choice but to put down the things in his hand and walk toward Allen.

These two days, he had secretly gone to Officer Lukaer's house. Officer Lukaer's wife had returned to her parents' house; she felt afraid of that house!

She would always subconsciously think of Officer Lukaer and start to be afraid, so Beno easily knocked on the door and broke in.

He looked for many places in Officer Lukaer's house but didn't find any information about his being a mole.

He suspected that it might have been placed by Officer Lukaer at the Hazardous Materials Administration; he had been considering how to sneak in these two days.

If he couldn't confirm it himself, this would always be a hidden danger, a time bomb!

He wiped his hands on a rag, took out a cigarette, and walked over, putting a cigarette in his mouth himself. "Want one?"

After Allen took it, he took out matches and lit it himself, which made Beno slightly surprised because most of the time, he was the one responsible for lighting cigarettes.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

Allen nodded. At this time, Hailamu's car was diagonally across the road.

However, both of them had things on their minds at this time and didn't notice them.

"Lans said there is still a mole in our family. I've been thinking about this. Who do you think it is?" He looked at Beno.

Beno's heart tightened, but some smiles appeared on his face. While shaking his head, he said, "I don't know; I don't dare to guess randomly about such things."

Allen said again, "Actually, who it is doesn't matter; he should stand out."

"Officer Lukaer is already dead. If this person can stand out, perhaps he can get Lans's forgiveness."

Beno's expression didn't change much. He took a deep breath of the cigarette. "Who knows?"

The two were silent for a while, and neither spoke again.

Suddenly, Allen asked, "Don't you have anything you want to say to me?"

The unease in Beno's heart became even stronger. He smiled and shook his head. "Say what?"

"I'm not... that kind of person!" He smiled and patted his butt, then said, "Going to work. They all think that joining a gang must be very crazy and you don't have to work, but they must not know that actually, joining a gang also requires work!"

Watching his seemingly carefree back, Allen sighed silently. "You are the mole, Beno."

Beno's footsteps paused, and he stopped. He turned around slowly, and the expression on his face changed a lot during this process. When he faced Allen, it became the look he should show most.

Confusion, incomprehension, and some anger.

"You say I'm a mole?" His face was full of natural expressions, disbelief, and that anger!

"Fuck, Allen, how much merit have I achieved for the family just like you? That time at the bar, I also went in with you, and I also took a big risk!"

"And... those few times, I rushed to the front. Can you say that everyone was cooperating with me in a performance?"

His neck started to turn red, and his voice was amplified quite a bit. The people working in the warehouse all stopped and looked toward them. "Anyone can say I'm a mole, but you can't, Allen; you're my brother, goddammit!"

Allen looked at him very sadly. "Admit it now, and I will immediately go and plead with Lans for you. I beg you, tell the truth, I beg you, goddammit!"

His voice also became louder!

Beno looked disappointed. "You actually don't believe what I said!"

"Why do they say I'm a mole?"

"Do they have evidence?"

His heart was beating wildly at this moment!

Allen was silent for a few seconds. "The note you wrote to Officer Lukaer is in Lans's hands."

At this moment, Beno's blood cooled by half in an instant. He pursed his lips. "A note, no one can prove who wrote it. It could also have been written by someone else. Why say it was written by me?"

Actually, at this moment, Allen also felt it; he panicked.

"It really is you?"

Just when Beno was still considering how to deal with this situation, he suddenly saw Allen's hand reach into his clothes and quickly lift it up.

This was obviously a gesture of drawing a gun. He was startled, pushed Allen's hand that had just been raised away with one hand, and at the same time, grabbed Allen's neck with the other hand.

But next, he was stunned.

Because Allen didn't have a gun in his hand; he just made a gesture of a gun, and what followed was his face full of disbelief.

"It really is you!"

Feeling that he had completely messed up, Beno pushed Allen away abruptly and rushed toward the outside with his heart beating wildly.

Hailamu, who was smoking, took the cigarette out of his mouth, threw it on the ground, and the car friends who hadn't turned off the engine stepped on the gas to the end and crashed into Beno! ===== CHAPTER 401 =====